Page 10 of The Virgin's Dance with the Devil
One step at a time, he reminded himself, and stepped back with a smile. “Come on, my angel. Let’s go and drink cocktails and paddle in the sea.”
She held his stare for so long that there was a beat when he was certain she was going to turn back. And then her mouth broke into a wide smile that lit the whole of her face.
The rest of the walk to the beach passed with a lightness in Marisa’s chest she couldn’t remember feeling before, a feeling that continued when they stepped onto the fine sand. Removing her sandals, she exhaled a sigh of happiness.
This was picture perfect. All of it.
The beach was set in a small, secluded cove, the only access by foot the steep path they’d just followed. At its rear, practically backing onto the cliff, the bar Rico had been keen to reach, along with showers and a rack filled with beach towels. On the beach itself, roughly fifteen Bali beds with muslin drapes to provide shelter from the sun’s glare. There were no actual sun loungers she noticed, and she was about to ask why that was when Rico asked what she wanted to drink.
She thought it over for at least a second. “A pina colada, please.”
He grinned, then turned to the barman. “Two pina coladas.”
With the barman saying he’d bring their drinks to them, Rico grabbed an armful of towels and led the way to one of the free Bali beds. Marisa pretended not to notice the couple who’d braved the cold of the sea and were waist-deep in it, eating each other’s faces off.
The Bali bed he chose was at the front of the beach, and he laid the towels on it, side by side.
“Did you want to take a dip?” he asked after throwing himself onto the left side and hooking his arms behind his head.
She shook her head quickly. No way was she stripping down to her bikini in front of him. She felt self-conscious enough with what she was wearing.
Perching herself on the edge of the right-hand side, she put her beach bag on her lap, keeping her feet on the sand and her gaze fixed on a yacht bobbing in the distance. “Where are all the individual sun loungers?”
“There aren’t any. This cove is only for adults.”
“That doesn’t explain why there’s no individual sun loungers.”
She heard his soft chuckle. “It’s an unwritten rule that this cove is for lovers. That’s why each Bali bed has a bell – when the drapes are closed, the bar staff know not to approach unless the bell is rung.”
She jumped straight to her feet, held her beach bag to her chest, and faced him accusingly. “Then I shall go back.”
“We can go back if you want, but this is the perfect place for us to hang out together. Look around you – the other couples here have closed their drapes.”
“We’re not a couple.”
How adorable she looked when her cheeks went so scarlet, Rico mused. “But we have a friendship you want to keep private. There is another beach we can access, but it’s much busier than this one. Here, we have privacy to spend time together without you worrying about who’s going to spot us.”
Rico could have kissed the barman for choosing that moment to bring their cocktails to them. Marisa took hers with whispered thanks, then, when he’d gone, perched herself back on the edge of the bed and took a long sip. “Okay,” she said,not looking at him. “I’ll stay for a little while, but we keep the drapes open.”
He patted the space beside him. “Then stretch yourself out and relax. I don’t bite.”
She turned her head to him and smiled wryly. “Unless I want you to, I know.”
He grinned. “Any time you want me to, just say the word.”
“If you’re going to make comments like that, I’m going,” she threatened, but the light that had returned to her eye negated it.
He laughed. “I’ll try to behave.”
“Good.”
He patted the space again.
Eyes narrowed with suspicious bemusement, she chucked her beach bag at his belly without spilling a drop of her cocktail. Laughing even harder, he rolled onto his side and cuddled the bag that was heavier than it looked while she swung her golden legs onto the bed and propped herself against the headrest, hooking her ankles together.
Rico laughed again, just for the hell of it.
He was lying on a Bali bed under blue skies, shrouded in a warmth that felt more like summer than spring, had a cocktail on the small carved side table beside him and the most beautiful woman in Italy as his company. In that moment, life felt fantastic, and he could forget the growing headache of Niccolo’s English lover. When there were further developments, his team would call him. Only then would he decide what needed to be done.
