Page 38 of The Virgin's Dance with the Devil
“God would never have given you to me if that were true, now let’s stop all this morbid talk. This isourtime, so let’s get a bed and order some food, because I amstarving.”
The beach was busier than it had been their other days there, and this time Marisa was happy for Rico to close their drapes.
As neither of them had eaten, they asked the bar staff to arrange brunch for them, and were rewarded with baked eggs with spinach, asparagus and prosciutto on toasted crusty bread, a basket of pastries and a cafetiere of coffee. They demolished the lot and, because it felt like a holiday, when they rang the bell for their plates to be collected, ordered a cocktail each.
Instead of enticing her into making love, Rico yawned and curled into her with his head on her lap.
She trailed her fingers through his hair. “You’re tired?”
“I suddenly feel exhausted.”
“Go to sleep, then.”
“I don’t want to sleep.”
“Stop being a baby. If you’re tired, sleep.”
“Old men take naps. Even my father’s started taking naps.”
“How oldis he?”
“Sixty-six.”
“That’s not all that old.”
“It is when you’re still chasing women your daughter’s age.”
Lorenzo was an infamous lothario, much more so than his sons. Growing up, Marisa had overheard hushed, disapproving stories about sex parties involving rich, powerful men and young women in their early to mid-twenties, organised and enthusiastically participated in by Lorenzo Esposito.
“What kind of father and husband is he?”
“A terrible husband but a great father.”
“Elaborate.”
“Why?”
“Because he’s going to be my father-in-law, so I want to be prepared.”
“He will love you.”
“How do you know that?”
“I just know it. He’s religious like you. He’s spent two decades trying to bury his past so he’ll see you marrying into the family as a sign from God that he’s been forgiven.”
“How do you figure that out?”
“You’re like the Madonna – you shine with goodness.”
As Rico’s fingers were at that point creeping up her inner thigh, and Marisa was hoping the barman would hurry up with their cocktails so they could be left alone again and Rico could pleasure her, she spluttered. “Hardly.”
“Oh, I’m corrupting you, I know,” he said lazily, dipping a finger beneath her bikini bottom. “But you’re taming me, so all’s fair.”
Her cells refilling with the glow of happiness, she sighed. “Can I ask… when you say about him chasing women your sister’s age, does that mean the stories about him are true?”
“All the stories about him have a kernel of truth. The stories about him and his women have more than a kernel.”
She felt a little sick. “Why does your mother stay with him?”
