Page 68 of Twisted Obsession

‘Look at the guide!’ he angrily reprimanded.

‘Oh, yes.’

‘What do you want to talk about, Giovanna?’ His warm breath once again rushed past the sensitive skin on my ear.

‘I need to know…’

‘What?’ he asked quickly, making me aware that his body hadn’t moved away from mine since he’d last spoken. Closing my eyes, I concentrated on the feel of him surrounding me. I felt at peace, as if I’d found the harbour I knew would protect me. Hanging an arm down at my side, I reached out backwards with my fingers to close the few centimetres between us. But I didn’t attempt to actually come into contact with him, as that would have surely broken the spell between us. And if I never felt like this again for the rest of my life, I needed to linger in it for as long as I was allowed. We weren’t touching, not at all. But I could feel him all over me. Every single hair on my skin was standing on end as my body wordlessly spoke to him, calling him ever closer. We were surrounded by people, but it felt so sensuous we could have been naked and alone.

‘Tell me?’ he demanded.

‘Did you ever love me?’ As I asked the question tears flooded my eyes, making the view in front of me blurred. I couldn’t believe the words had fallen out. It was the one thing I had decided I would never ask of him, and the very first time he’d questioned me I’d gone back on my word to myself.

His body reacted to my question as though I’d sucker punched him. I heard him inhale sharply, and his head snapped away as though he was experiencing whiplash.

‘My boat is moored about four to five boats left of your stepfather’s. I’ll be on her tonight.’

‘How will I get off his boat, with the bodyguards?’

‘No idea, Giovanna. But you’ve got this far. I’m sure you can come up with something.’

‘How will I know which boat?’ I shook my head at the thought of sneaking out and wandering around the many boats in Valletta.

‘You’ll know… you’ll recognise the name.’

‘How can you be so sure?’

‘Because I am… but in case I’m wrong and you’ve forgotten, her name is “Amore Mio”.’

‘My love,’ I whispered to no one, as without turning I could feel that Dante had already left.

Chapter Nine

Giovanna

‘How did you find Valletta. Giovanna?’ my mama questioned.

Hearing my name, I looked up from the act of pushing food around my plate to find hers and Peter’s eyes on me and awaiting a response.

‘Sorry,’ I answered quickly, feeling their questioning gaze.

‘I asked how you found Valletta?’ she repeated.

‘Oh.’ I shook my head and smiled, ‘It was beautiful, unassuming, captivating…’ I paused as I, for probably the hundredth time, imagined how it felt to have Dante in such close proximity, ‘and equally surprising,’ I added.

‘It is all of those things.’ I watched as my mama held a hand to her heart. I realised that I’d never seen her so animated and even passionate about anything, even her three children.

‘I think I could go out on a limb and say it’s possibly your mama’s most favourite place in the world,’ Peter added, before taking his wife’s empty hand and placing it to his lips.

‘Correct, Malta is my favourite place,’ she gushed under his attention, but it was ridiculous, almost too much and I had to stop my face showing how completely sickening I found the two of them. ‘Home is where the heart is,’ she carried on. ‘Although,Peter…’ She always said his name abruptly, like she was calling a member of staff. There was never a term of endearment from either of them. ‘Rome comes a very close second.’

‘I know… you make sure we come to Malta every chance we get… and if not here, you demand to be in Rome,’ he agreed.

I watched the two of them with a sickening feeling beginning to develop in my stomach, as they fawned over each other in what was starting to feel like they were playing their roles as husband and wife, and lovers. I even stopped myself from shaking my head, as just as quickly their affection for each other ended abruptly and they turned their attention back to me, as though I was watching a well-rehearsed play.

‘Are you not feeling well, Giovanna?’ It was Peter’s turn to question me.

For the first time that evening, my mama turned her head to truly look at me.

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