I stood rooted to the spot, watching him sliding everything to the side of the table. I must have made an extremely weird face, as Massimo couldn’t hide his amusement as he was laying me on the tabletop. He spread my legs, kneeled between them, and snuck his tongue inside me. It lasted for only an instant and was evidently not something that was supposed to pleasure me—only reduce friction. Then he did what he had said he would—delicately, yet resolutely.
* * *
I went outside to the deck with only my sunglasses and a wonderful white Victoria’s Secret bikini on. There was scuba diving equipment on the stern. The young man preparing it didn’t look like an Italian. He had bright golden hair and facial features that made me think he came from somewhere in the East. His eyes were large and blue, and his smile was infectious. Massimo was standing on the other side of the yacht, talking to Fabio and gesticulating wildly. I decided not to approach them. Instead I walked over to the diver. Descending the stairs, I stumbled and nearly fell into the water again.
“Jesus Christ, I’m going to kill myself one of these days,” I muttered in Polish.
The young man’s face brightened. He extended a hand and greeted me in perfect Polish. “Hi, I’m Marek, but everyone here calls me Marco. You have no idea how great it is to hear Polish again, ma’am.”
I stopped, paralyzed, grinning at the man for a while. Then I burst out laughing.
“Trust me, I do! Thinking in English makes my brain hurt. I’m Laura, and please call me by my name.”
“So how do you like your Italian vacation?” he asked, turning back to his equipment.
I took a moment to think about the answer.
“Well, it’s not really a vacation,” I stammered, looking overboard. “I’ve a one-year-contract on Sicily and had to settle here for a while,” I added, taking the rest of the steps down. “Is your presence here a coincidence, or have they brought you here for me on purpose?”
“It’s a coincidence, though a pretty happy one, won’t you say? Paolo was supposed to dive with you today, but he broke his leg yesterday and I had to step in for him.” Suddenly Marek straightened and his smile vanished.
I turned around and saw Massimo, slowly walking down the steps. The two men greeted each other and talked in Italian for a while. Then Massimo turned to me.
“I’m sorry, but I have an urgent meeting, so I can’t go with you two,” he said, clenching his jaw with anger.
“A meeting?” I took a look around. “We’re in the middle of the sea!”
“A helicopter is coming for me. I’ll see you in a while.”
I spun to Marek and said in Polish, “So, we’re all alone. I don’t know whether to laugh or cry.”
Massimo kept still, but his eyes flared with fury.
“Marco is Polish! Isn’t this great? This is going to be an awesome day,” I said, and kissed Massimo on the cheek.
As I stepped back, he shot out an arm and grabbed me by the wrist, whispering so only I could hear, “I don’t want you to speak Polish when I’m around. I can’t understand anything.” His hand clamped painfully around my arm.
I jerked away and hissed angrily, “Well, I’d like you to stop speaking Italian. Can you do that?”
I shot him an admonishing glare and headed in the direction of the motorboat, where Marek was packing the diving equipment. I closed the distance between us, patted him on the back, and asked him in Polish if he needed any help and if we had everything we needed. Then I waved happily at Massimo and turned to go to the boat.
Honestly, I don’t know if Massimo could teleport or something like that, but I hadn’t managed even one step when he had me in his arms again, kissing me. He leaned over me slightly and lifted me from the ground, his arms crossed over my butt. His lips greedily latched on to mine, as if we were never to see each other again. The sound of the approaching helicopter broke our frantic kiss.
Massimo held my face in his hands, smiling widely, and winked at me, saying, “If he touches you, I’ll kill him.”
He planted a kiss on my forehead and left, taking the stairs up.
I stood and watched him go, feeling a wave of nausea at what I had just heard. He would do it. I knew that. I had no intention of taking responsibility for someone else’s life.
“He must love you very much,” said Marek, reaching out with a hand.
“More like control me all the time,” I retorted, getting onto the motorboat.
We headed out. I turned my head back and saw Massimo, waiting for the helicopter, his hair blowing in the downdraft. He looked seriously annoyed. I didn’t have to see his face to know that. All I needed was the position of his body—his toned legs planted wide and arms crossed on his muscular chest were never a good sign.
“Do you teach diving for a living?” I asked.
Marek laughed and slowed the boat so we didn’t have to shout over the wind.
“Not anymore. I had a lot of luck and found a niche in the market. I’m the owner of an underwater empire now,” he chuckled. “Can you imagine? A Pole in Italy owning the biggest diving equipment company, handling all the stuff all by himself.”
“So… what are you doing here with me, then?” I asked with a laugh.
“I told you! Destiny and a broken leg. This is how it was supposed to be.” He raised his voice as the motorboat was accelerating again, rushing through the waves with the engines roaring.
When Marco was packing up our equipment after the diving session, the sun was deep orange in color.
“It was amazing,” I said, chewing on a mouthful of watermelon.
“It’s good you’ve dived before. Didn’t have to waste any more time than necessary for the teaching part.”
“Where are we, exactly?”
“Off the coast of Croatia.” Marek pointed to the land on the horizon. “It’s getting late, and I have to be in Venice today.”
When we got back, it was already getting dark. I noticed Fabio on the deck of the Titan. The older man helped me out of the motorboat. I said my goodbyes and headed toward the stairs.
“The hairdresser and the makeup artist are waiting in the lounge by the Jacuzzi. Would you like me to serve dinner?” I heard Fabio saying.
“A hairdresser? Why?” I asked, surprised.
“You’re going to a banquet. There’s an international film festival in Venice, and don Massimo is the majority shareholder of one of the film companies. Unfortunately, you only have an hour and a half to prepare, what with you being so late.”
Great, I thought. I’ve been sloshing around in salt water the whole day to dazzle everyone at the party with the dryness of my skin. I shook my head, wondering if the day when I’d know the plans in advance would ever come. Not to mention making those plans on my own. I headed upstairs.
Poli and Luigi were a pair of stereotypical gays. Wonderful, fantastic guys—a woman’s true friends. And more feminine than most ladies… In an hour they managed to get the bird’s nest that my hair had become and the flaking-dry skin on my face in order. When they were finished, I went to my room to pick some clothes for the evening. I entered the bedroom only to notice a Roberto Cavalli evening dress, which I had bought back in Taormina, hanging on the bathroom door. It had a small card attached saying Wear This One. Well, at least I knew the answer to the question of my evening outfit. The dress was amazing, but also very revealing. It was made of black, see-through material—a bit like a mesh—with inserts that looked like zippers or lacing. Its long sleeves made my arms look thinner, but the pièce de résistance was the back—or rather lack of it. The dress had only a thin strap at the shoulder blades, then a long, wide cutout all the way to the derriere.