Roswell Fanatics

Chapter 10

“I have no idea what I’m supposed to do, Max.”

“It is very simple,” Max explains, leading her forward towards the vines, “You roll up your sleeves. Grab a basket. You pick the good and throw away the bad. This is not so hard, Lisa.”

“I think you’re oversimplifying.” The morning is soft and cool, with the sun only just beginning to peek over the horizon. Liz wears a sunbonnet in preparation for later but she definitely has no use for it now. The air is balmy and sweet, borderline tropical. She can stay outside all day in this sort of weather. “Maybe I’ll just watch you,” she says, already skipping back several steps.

“Elisabetta,” he sings in warning tone.

“That’s it,” she declares with a gamin smile, “No picking for me! I’d much rather admire your cute ass while your bent over working so hard.”

“Lisa…”

Liz backs up several more steps, her eyes gleaming with mischievous light. “You want me to work…” she whispers with a giggle, “You’re gonna have to catch me first!”

She takes off like a shot, darting though the twisting maze of grapevines, emitting squealing gales of laughter as she does. Max is close on her heels, peals of his baritone chuckles mingling with hers. Liz ducks in and out of the brambly vines with Max dogging her every step. They are unaware of his family’s scrutiny as they cavort around the vineyard like two misbehaving children. Only Max’s mother watches with a stern frown as she realizes her eldest son is falling in love and she is not quite sure how she feels about that or the girl he’s decided to give his heart to.

Max tackles Liz to the ground when she attempts to dart down the hill, causing her hat to fly from her head and coast in the wind. He then climbs over her prone body to pin her arms into the soft earth above her head. “You are such a child,” he admonishes in laughing breathlessness, grinning all the while. Liz sticks her tongue out him. “Careful, Lisa…I may find something more interesting to do with that tongue,” he murmurs seductively.

“Hmm…do you promise…” Liz hums, nudging her groin up into his body where he straddles her.

“Lisa…” he groans with a careful glance over his shoulder, “My parents are watching.”

“You’re the one who’s straddling me,” she points out smugly, “And besides…you started it.”

Max leans down against her to flick his tongue over the sensitive rim of her ear. “And I will finish it, too,” he promises in a coercive undertone, “Tonight, tesoro.”

“Max! Elisabetta!” Diana Ricci calls sharply, “Now is not the time for playing! We have much work to do before the sun goes down!”

Blushing and grinning sheepishly, Max and Liz struggle to their feet and dutifully return to the vines to pick the grapes. The harvesting is even harder than Liz first supposed. She spends the majority of the day bent in half to remove the grapes from the vine and finds that it is agonizing work. When mid-morning rolls around she is exhausted and her back is killing her. Max tells her time and again that he will take her back to the house to rest but Liz refuses. She is aware that Diana Ricci is waiting for her to quit and she will not give the woman the satisfaction. By sunset her muscles ache horribly that she can barely stand upright. Each step she takes is punctuated with a tormented groan.

Max assists her as she limps down the hill, biting back his affectionate smirk through his own exhaustion. “My poor, little Lisa…,” he murmurs to her along the way, “When we get home you will rest. You have worked hard today, tesoro.”

Liz shakes her head negative. “Your mother and sister are cooking dinner tonight,” she says stubbornly, “I’m going to help them.”

“Lisa…you do not have to…” he protests, “You are dead on your feet!”

“I want to…” she insists stubbornly, “Besides I want to prove your mother wrong. She thinks I’m this spoiled, soft American woman. I want to show her that I’m just as tough as any Italian girl.”

Max is secretly pleased by her words. The fact that she is going to such lengths to prove herself to his mother must mean she feels something more for him than casual desire. Max can’t imagine she would jump through such hoops otherwise. He presses a loving kiss to her temple. “You make me proud today, amore mio,” he whispers, “I know you are not a soft woman…at least not the way you speak.” She smiles up at him, her cheeks staining with a soft blush at his sexual quip and they share a soft kiss, unaware that Diana is watching their gentle exchange from a distance.

After they return to the house, Liz quickly showers and changes into a pair of Capri khakis and a soft blue tank top. The rest of the family has used the spare bathroom to wash up so that when she enters the kitchen Diana is already there and started with dinner. As Liz passes the dining room table she cannot help but blush hot and bright when she thinks back on her torrid lovemaking session with Max. She hopes devoutly that the table is still sturdy enough to handle the weight of dinner after her and Max’s activities the other night. Dinner is sure to be an awkward occasion, Liz realizes. She’ll very likely spend most of the night battling the memories of what she and Max did on that table.

“Isabella tell me you make pizza for Max the other night,” Diana remarks as Liz steps fully into the kitchen. Liz freezes mid-step as Diana tosses her a brief glance before returning her attention to her simmering pot of sauce. “It turn out good, no?”

Liz blushes even brighter. “Um…no,” she hedges, “That didn’t turn out so well.”

“It was my recipe she give you,” Diana clarifies, “Max love my pizza, always! Maybe you do something wrong. Did you add too much basil?”

“No.”

“Oregano?”

“No.”

“Garlic?”

“Um…no…”

“Then what?” Diana demands with a frown, “It is not so hard to make a pizza!”

“Mamma!” Isabella admonishes as she sails into the kitchen, “Stop it! It was her first time. She not gonna do it perfect.”

“Maybe I ask Max how he like it,” Diana considers in a mumble.

He liked it very much, Liz adds silently, though she knows Max’s enjoyment had nothing to do with the pizza. However, Liz didn’t think that was the answer his mother was looking for. “Do you need help, Signora Ricci?” she asks tentatively, growing more and more uncomfortable as the moments pass.

“Signora?” Diana echoes brusquely, “So formal for someone carrying on so intimately with my son. Don’t you think, Elisabetta?”

Isabella pauses in the act of tasting the sauce. “Oh…I think I hear Alessandro calling me. I gonna go see what he want,” she declares suddenly, beating a hasty retreat out of the kitchen. Liz stares after her desperately, begging with her eyes for Isabella to stay. Her newfound friend shoots Liz a look that clearly states that she is on her own.

“I believe we should talk, Elisabetta,” Diana says gravely when they are alone. Liz nods stiffly as Diana moves forward to take a seat at the dining room table. “It has come to my attention that you and Max have become very close these last few weeks.”

“We’re good friends, yes,” Liz concedes laconically.

“Just friends?”

Liz’s face warms once more. Her cheeks will very likely spontaneously combust before the night is through. “A bit more than that,” she murmurs.

“I thought so,” Diana comments gruffly, “I expected this from the moment Max decided to contest the will. You both living here together…I have not had good feelings about it at all. This situation is not so good.”

“I don’t understand…” Liz mumbles.

“What guarantee is there you will stay in Tuscany?” Diana considers, “Perhaps if you lose the villa you will return to America then where will that leave my Massimiliano?”

“Signo-- Diana,” she amends quickly, “With all due respect, I know you care about Max and you don’t want to see him hurt but…what goes on between the two of us is private. I really feel uncomfortable discussing this with you.”

“Do you love my son, Elisabetta?” Diana counters boldly, completely ignoring the last of Liz’s sentence as if she hadn’t spoken it at all.

Liz nibbles at the corner of her mouth, realizing that she has never considered the idea before. She has been caught up in a whirlwind of emotion since she first laid eyes on Max but she has never stopped to examine what those feelings might mean. Because she is so unsure at that precise moment Liz answers Diana’s question as honestly as she is able. “I love being with him,” she confesses candidly, “I don’t think I can imagine my life without him right now.”

Diana seems pleased with the answer, which allows Liz to relax a bit. “Ahh…” she says, “So does this mean you will remain in Tuscany? You not gonna go back to America?”

“That’s the plan,” Liz tells her, “Tuscany’s home to me now. I don’t have any intention of going anywhere.”

“This is good to know,” Diana murmurs with a smile, “Very good. You have assured me much, Elisabetta. I see you love this house and you work hard and I am happy for this. But be careful with Massimiliano. I never see him hurt and I don’t want him to be now.”

“I’ll do my best,” Liz responds carefully, a nervous smile ghosting on her lips.

“Well, I am glad. Now about the pizza…”

Liz is praying that the floor will open and swallow her down when Max pokes his head into the door. “Ciao,” he greets with a boyish, uncertain smile, “Va tutto bene, Mamma? Is everything fine?” He is worried about his mother and Liz being alone and understandably so. Diana Ricci has a reputation for being very direct.

“Everything is perfetto,” Diana replies, “Elisabetta is about to help with dinner. Maybe this time it turn out better than her pizza.” At her comment, Max and Liz trade a reticent glance, stifling their laughter behind their hands.

Much later that evening and after a very big and raucous dinner Max’s family retires for the night to their respective houses and Max and Liz collapse onto the sofa with mutual sighs of exhaustion. Liz leans her head back against the edge of the couch and closes her eyes. “I’m so tired I can’t even blink,” she mutters wearily, “Just leave me to die right here in this spot.”

Max rolls a tired grin in her direction. “Vieni qui,” he murmurs deeply, “I want to hold you, Lisa. We die together.”

They fall asleep on the sofa, sitting upright and curled in one another’s arms. It is sometime later when Liz awakens. She is now sprawled lengthwise across the sofa cushions and Max is pressing moist kisses down the concave expanse of her abdomen and her skin on fire. She opens her eyes to find that her shirt and bra have been bunched up around her armpits as Max kisses a sensual path up her midriff. When her eyes adjust to the dimness she comes to recognize he is completely naked as well. “Max?” she croaks in sleepy confusion, only to have him envelope her turgid nipple between his lips.

“You were so beautiful, Lisa…” he mumbles into her skin, “And I could not wait.”

Liz sighs in somnolent pleasure, cradling his head closer as he laps at her flesh hungrily. He pays extravagant attention to one breast before lavishing the same ardor on the other. When he stops finally Liz moans with the loss but her moan quickly becomes a gasp of anticipation as he begins a nibbling descent down her belly.

Max licks at her navel, flicking the shallow cavern with the tip of his tongue before turning his full attention to her waistband snap. Liz eagerly helps him to remove her capris and panties, their fingers made awkward in their haste. Her shirt and bra follow after. Evidently he has been at his tender attentions for some time now and her body is already primed. She is anxious to have him inside her.

However, Max does not climb up over her body as Liz expects but swings her upright, draping her legs over his shoulders. He pulls her forward a bit so that her hips are tilted towards his face as he kneels before her spread thighs.

“M-Max,” Liz stammers out nervously, “What are you doing?”

“I have never done this before, Lisa…and I am a bit nervous,” he reveals profoundly, “It could be very bad.”

“Max?”

“But I want to,” he continues on quietly, “I want to know what you taste like.”

“You don’t have to do…” she begins only to have her last words trail off into a groan of anticipation when she feels his breath stir against her.

At first he nuzzles against her, acquainting himself with her scent. He nips at her, building the fire slowly before delicately sliding his tongue over the sensitive nub hidden between the swollen lips of her sex. Uncertain as to how he should proceed, Max gauges the effectiveness of his caresses by her reaction. When he runs his tongue along her creamy inner folds Liz grasps him by the hair and gurgles a whimper. Max smiles into her body and realizes that is a good caress. He does it again and again, emboldened by her sobbing cries of pleasure, inflamed by them.

Max licks against her voraciously, consuming her with his mouth, plunging his tongue inside her again and again. He devours her moist center much the way he devours her mouth when he kisses her. Not one inch goes untasted, unexplored…

He loves the salty-sweet flavor of her and is made hungrier for it with each dipping foray into her body. The mad shivering of her extremities, her fingers pulling almost painfully at his hair makes him want more. He’s possessed by the need to get her off. Max wants to make her come with his mouth, wants to feel the rush of her orgasm against his tongue and then… He wants to drink down every, last drop. He gets his wish.

Liz arches up into his mouth, reflexively pushing his face deeper into his sex as her body explodes into a million pieces. Her climax is fast and intense and very, very wet. Max laps her up like ambrosia, made drunk off the pleasure he has given her…and himself.

When he lifts his head Liz is regarding him with a half-lidded stare of wonder. “Why?” she whispers, “What made you do that?”

“Because…” Ti amo. I love you. The words come out of nowhere, merely crashing into his brain with no warning at all. Yet as soon as the thought occurs Max knows that it is true. He loves her. It seems inconceivable that he would have such strong feelings for a woman he has only known for a couple of weeks but he can hardly explain away his feelings. He is in love with this woman and he is sure he will never love another.

Max wants to tell her so. He’s practically bursting with the need but he is also afraid. He has never felt this way for a woman in his life. It is a rather painful irony that when he finally does fall in love the object of his affection is afraid of commitment. If he were to tell her his feelings now she would probably run from him and Max cannot let that happen. He does not want to overwhelm her.

Having made his decision to keep his feelings to himself, Max smiles and leans up to press a sex flavored kiss to her lips. “I want to please you, Lisa,” he murmurs softly, “Did I?”

“Hmm…you pleased me,” she informs him with a languid smile, “You please me always, Max…too much sometimes.”

And that’s the problem. He pleases her beyond measure, so much that she knows she’s falling in love with him and realization is as terrifying as it is exhilarating. She has already exposed her heart to one man and had it trampled. She’d be a fool to let herself love a playboy such as Massimiliano Ricci but it is already happening and she cannot stop what has already begun.

What scares Liz most, however, is the knowledge that she doesn’t want to.

Okay. A bit of reassurance before this part. I have no angst planned for this story, just simple conflict. It's nothing bad...trust me. Second, there's only like three parts and the epilogue after this part so that might help to reassure you all. How angsty can it get in three parts, people? I definitely want to keep this story on the lighter side of things.

No angst. Some misunderstandings and confusion yes but no angst.

Chapter 11

Liz awakens to the sound of knocking at her front door. She pushes herself upright in Max’s bed, realizing that he has already left for the café. There is a single red rose lying in the place where he slept. Liz lifts the rose to her nose with a dreamy smile to recall her steamy night of lovemaking with Max but the sharp knocking sounds again, startling her out of her romantic reverie.

After placing the rose carefully on the nightstand beside her bed, Liz gropes around in the bed sheets for her bathrobe. She quickly shoves her arms into the satin sleeves, wraps herself in it snugly and then goes skidding for the front door. However, when she yanks open the door to greet her visitor her mouth falls wide in shock instead.

Maria stands on her front porch; her curly blond hair streaked with highlights, her Blue Blockers perched indolently on the tip of her nose, her tiny mini-skirt and tank top revealing nearly every inch of her perfectly golden tan. Beach babe is definitely the best term to describe her. Liz feels a bit frumpy alongside her with her own disheveled hair and wrinkled bathrobe.

“Oh my God!” Liz utters in surprise, “Maria?”

“Well it certainly ain’t the Pope,” Maria quips irreverently, “So are you gonna hug me, girlfriend, or stare at me all damned day?”

Liz immediately snaps out of her stupor and yanks her friend into a surprised hug. Maria returns the embrace just as exuberantly. She has missed her best friend very much. Though it’s been less than a month since she saw Liz it feels like much longer. Despite her snappy bravado there are tears burning in her bright green eyes. “My God, I’ve missed you,” Maria sniffles.

“Ditto,” her friend sniffles back. It’s a long time before the girls think to untangle themselves and move into the house. “What are you doing here?” Liz demands as she scoops up Maria’s bags and ushers her inside, “Last time we spoke you didn’t mention anything about coming to visit.”

“That’s because it was supposed to be a surprise, silly,” Maria teases as she removes her sunglasses to peer around the house. “So is he here?”

“Is who here?” Liz asks blankly as she situates Maria’s belongings in the living room.

“That rat bastard contesting your Aunt Louisa’s will,” her friend clarifies, “If he’s here I’m gonna kick him in the balls.”

“You mean Max?” Liz concludes with a reflexive smile. Just saying his name aloud makes her giddy. But she reddens at the unconcealed venom in Maria’s tone. She certainly didn’t paint a flattering picture of Max in those early days.

“You’re on a first name basis with the asshole?” Maria queries in astonishment, “I’m surprised you haven’t throttled him by now. I know I would have.”

“Max and I have…come to an understanding,” Liz hedges uncomfortably. Though she has filled Maria in on the details of the villa and her legal problems with Max she has failed to mention that she is now sleeping with her self-professed enemy.

“What kind of understanding?” Maria ask blankly, “What are you doing…splitting the house or something? You get it on weekends, every other day…what?” Liz opens her mouth to prepare an answer for that, though she has no idea what she is going to say when Maria pushes her sunglasses up onto her head, her eyes narrowing with sudden suspicion. “Hey…why are you still in your pajamas?” she demands of Liz sharply.

Liz feels her entire face suffuse with color and that’s becoming the norm since she came to live in Tuscany. “I…um…I…” she stammers. Liz doesn’t see any point in telling Maria she isn’t in pajamas at all. She is naked beneath her robe.

“It’s nearly noon,” Maria plods on carefully, “Since when do you stay in bed until noon?”

More stammering. Liz stares down at her feet, praying for an earthquake. “Well…um…see…um…I had a long night and uh--,”

“You never answered my question, Liz,” Maria interjects smoothly, “Where is he?”

“Max is at work,” Liz returns a little too flippantly.

“Yeah, but where was he before he went to work,” Maria wheedles astutely, “Your bed or his?” Liz doesn’t need to answer; the blazing in her face is more than enough for Maria. “You skanky ho!” she cries out laughingly, “Oh my God! I can’t believe you’re sleeping with him!”

“It’s not what you’re thinking,” Liz rushes to explain.

“What am I thinking?” Maria interrupts smoothly, “That you’re sleeping with the rat bastard who’s trying to steal your inheritance.”

“He’s not a rat bastard!” Liz defends in a starchy tone.

“But you don’t deny he’s trying to steal your inheritance,” Maria volleys back.

“That’s just a big misunderstanding,” Liz mutters, “I’m sure of it.”

“Oh, Lizzie,” Maria tsks, clucking her tongue in exaggerated pity, “Obviously Italian dick has pickled your brain. You’re not thinking straight anymore.”

“Shut up.”

“I’m serious,” Maria laughs, “How can you be sleeping with this guy when he’s trying to take your aunt’s house away from you? Is he really that hot?”

“Sit down and I’ll explain it to you,” Liz sighs, “And yes…he really is that hot.” They recline onto the sofa and Liz spills the entire story.

Liz tells Maria about how the fighting over the villa led to her and Max becoming lovers. She tells her about how sweet and understanding and caring Max has been and how her feelings for him are deepening. Liz talks until her throat becomes dry, not realizing she has so emotion stored up inside until it all came pouring out to Maria. By the time she is finished Maria is gaping at her, her eyes bugging out of her head.

“Oh my God,” Maria mumbles, “Wow, Lizzie…all that and…you’ve only been here for three weeks!”

“Tell me about it.”

“Liz…can you really feel that strongly for a guy you’ve know only a few weeks?” Maria reasons practically, “I understand how it’s easy to get caught up in the romantic atmosphere here. Hell, the accents alone are enough to make a girl come on the spot but sex, no matter how fucking good, does not a relationship make.”

“Your wisdom is duly noted, little Buddha,” Liz replies sourly, “But it’s not like that with Max and me. It’s more than jus the sex. Max is…is…” She sighs dreamily. “He’s like no man I’ve ever known.”

“How’s that?”

Liz gropes for the right words. “Okay…um…he’s like fireworks on the Fourth of July.”

“What?”

“You know how the sky is all dark and quiet before they start?” Liz presses on valiantly, “And then it just explodes with color and light and you’re just blown away by the beauty, the intensity, the absolute wonder of it… Those fireworks are hot and bright so freaking magical that sometimes they make you cry and… That’s how Max makes me feel.”

“Fireworks also burn out pretty quickly, Lizzie,” Maria adds grimly, “You might want to keep that in mind.”

“I don’t know why I thought I could talk to you about this,” Liz says with a disgusted shake of her head.

“So what are you saying, Liz?” Maria asks in an urgent whisper, “Are you telling me that you’re in love with this guy?”

“I think I am,” she whispers.

“And what about Kyle?” Maria wonders.

“Kyle?”

“Yes, Kyle,” Maria reiterates, “You know the ex-boyfriend you left back in the States.”

“Kyle and I are over,” Liz states, “He cheated on me, remember? He’s not a factor in my life anymore.”

“And what if he was,” Maria prods, “What if he wanted to get back together?” Liz’s heart begins a slow hammer as she considers her friend’s question. However, it threatens to burst from her chest completely when Maria pulls a stack full of letters tied with a neat, pink ribbon from her purse. She passes them to Liz. “These are from Kyle,” she tells her friend, “He’s been by the house nearly every day since you left and he’s been mailing these. Sometimes he hand delivers them.”

Liz stares down at the letters in her lap, leaving them untouched. “I haven’t read any of them,” Maria whispers, “But I’m pretty sure of what they say. He wants you back, Lizzie. That’s all he’s been saying for the last three weeks…er…that is when I’m not having him arrested for drunk and disorderly conduct.”

“What?” Liz hisses out in surprise.

“He’s been a mess since you left, Lizzie,” Maria recounts, “Apparently, he and that ho Tess Harding were over before you even left. Irony of all ironies, she was two-timing Kyle while he was two-timing you. Anyway…Kyle pretty much felt like an ass for hurting you but he didn’t feel like he had the right to approach you and beg your forgiveness. When he found out you’d left the States for good he thought he’d lost his chance to make it up to you.”

“Oh my God…” Liz whispers in disbelieving shock.

“I wasn’t inclined to believe his act at first,” Maria says, “But a man can show up blubbering on your doorstep only so many times before you start thinking he’s sincere.”

“I…I don’t know what you expect me to say, Maria,” Liz mumbles, “Kyle and I are over. I’ve moved on. My life is in Tuscany now.”

“Your life is in Roswell,” Maria counters flatly, “Your family is there and your friends…everyone who loves you, Lizzie. Are you really happy here in a foreign country full of strangers?”

“I have friends here,” Liz argues stubbornly.

“And how many of them have ties to Max, the Italian stallion?” Maria charges dryly, “That’s just my point. You’re surrounded by his friends, his family, his way of life. You don’t know which way is up. It’s little wonder you think you’re in love with him. But it’s nothing more than infatuation, Liz.”

“That’s not it at all,” Liz denies, “You don’t know Max. If you did you wouldn’t think what we have together is just infatuation.”

“And what about Kyle?” Maria presses again, “Are you saying you don’t have feelings for him anymore?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Liz mumbles in return, “I definitely don’t want to be with him anymore. I can’t trust him, Maria. But, most importantly, I’m with someone else now. It’s Max I want to be with.”

“And how long is that gonna last, Lizzie?” Maria wonders, “I know you’re all serious about him and everything but…is he serious about you? Is this love for him or is it just a fling? Do you even know? Maybe he doesn’t want a commitment at all.”

Liz hates to admit it but Maria’s words are striking their mark, making her uncertain and afraid. She falls back on the defensive. “Kyle isn’t any better!” she snaps irately, “We see how much he valued commitment when he dropped me flat so he could boff Tess Harding into the wild blue yonder!”

“He’s obviously sorry for that.”

“Since when are you Kyle’s biggest supporter, Maria?” Liz charges, “This is complete bullshit and you know it!”

“Doesn’t everyone deserve a second chance,” Maria considers weakly.

“God, Maria! Merda!” Liz cries in exasperation, “Aren’t you the very one who said I should move on from Kyle, that I shouldn’t pine over him?”

“Okay, one…what the hell does merda mean,” Maria queries flippantly, “and two…when I said move on I was thinking no strings attached sex. Lizzie, clearly your heart has gotten involved in this one. I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“Max would never hurt me,” Liz whispers with absolute conviction, “He’s a very honorable man, Maria.”

“Okay…okay,” Maria cries, throwing up her hands in surrender, “You don’t have to sing his praises to me, alright?” She rises to her feet with a tired sigh. “I’m exhausted from my flight so show me the bathroom so I can hit the showers. And…while I’m there…maybe you can read Kyle’s letters and think about if you want to give him another chance…”

“I’m not going to--,”

“Read the letters, Lizzie,” Maria insists, “And then decide what you want to do.”

Chapter 12

When Liz hears the chiming of the front door she hastily leaps from her bed and shoves Kyle’s letters into the top bureau of her drawer and goes running to greet Max.

While Maria slept she finished the remaining ones, lingering over Kyle’s apologetic words in regretful thoughtfulness. She is glad to know that he feels remorse for the way they ended and his part in it. She hates that he is in pain and that he caused her pain but…as far as reconciliation…Liz finally understands that she has no desire for it. If reading Kyle’s letters has taught her nothing else it is that her feelings for Max are indeed genuine. He is the one for her. She doesn’t want to be with anyone else.

Max barely clears the entrance completely before Liz pitches herself into his open arms to pepper his neck with exuberant kisses. “Do you know how happy I am to see you?” she espouses energetically, “I’ve missed you so much!”

“Have you, amore mio,” he chuckles, tipping back her head for a sound kiss, “Oh Lisa…I think you must greet me this way always.” He smothers her answering laugh with another kiss, this one deep and torrid while simultaneously pressing her back into the nearest wall. He presses hard between her thighs, his arousal prominent between them. “We do not have much time,” he breathes, already snaking his hand between their bodies to rub against her moist center, “My family will be here in another hour.”

“Max, wait--,” Liz protests; only to lose her train of thought when he plunges his hand into her panties and begins caressing her wet folds. “God, aspetta…Max!”

“I love it when you speak Italian, Lisa,” he mutters into her mouth, “Even if your accent is all wrong…”

“Max, you have to stop,” she gasps weakly as his fingers dip inside her. She can’t find the wherewithal to push him off, not when he’s swirling his tongue so expertly and his fingers are stroking her in a maddening dance. “Max, I have…I have…”

“You have what, tesoro,” he murmurs into her throat.

“She has company, lover boy,” Maria announces gruffly as she steps into the foyer and gets an eyeful.

At Maria’s blunt intrusion, Max leaps away from Liz as if she’s fire but otherwise retains his composure as he calmly sets Liz back on her feet, pulls her dress down around her knees and slowly pivots to face Maria. He greets her with his usual, indolent smile as if he were not about to take her best friend against the wall. “Ciao,” he says simply.

“Ciao to you, too, buddy,” Maria mimics with a smirk of amusement.

Liz, on the other hand, is mortified. She can barely look Maria in the eye as she makes the introductions. “Max, this is my friend, Maria Deluca,” she informs him, smoothing a nervous hand down the front of her sundress, “She’s going to be visiting me for a couple of weeks. Maria…this is Max Ricci.” Liz utters a silent prayer to the gods that neither of them attempt to shake one another’s hands. When she thinks of where Max’s fingers were only seconds before Liz can’t stop her cheeks from blazing crimson.

But, as usual, Max is the smoother of the two. “My apologies, Signorina DeLuca. I will go wash up now,” he tells Maria, “And then afterward we will visit some more. Is that good?”

“Very good,” Maria replies smoothly. However, when he disappears from the room a few seconds later she emits a very unladylike squeal and regards Liz with an incredulous stare. “Okay, girlfriend, you said absolutely nothing about him being gorgeous! Good Lord! Do they all look like that here? I’m gonna have to get laid before leaving this country, Lizzie!”

“Maria!” Liz cries in feigned scolding. Secretly however, she is pleased and proud of Max’s good looks and the effect he has on women. Maria’s envy makes Liz a little giddy because she knows Max is all hers. Her best friend can eat her heart out. “What do his looks matter to you anyway,” she went on facetiously, “Aren’t you the one who was saying earlier that he probably wasn’t serious about me in the first place?”

“He looked serious enough a few minutes ago,” Maria observes smugly, “Wonder what would have happened if I hadn’t walked in just then.”

“You’ve had biology,” is Liz’s flippant reply, “You know what would have happened.”

Maria gapes at her shameless insinuation. “Oh, Liz…you hussy!”

“Jealous!” Liz tosses back.

“So can I take this to mean you didn’t read any of Kyle’s letters then?” Maria asks in a conspiratorial whisper after she’s closed the distance between her and Liz, “I mean…you’re so high on Mr. Italian I can’t imagine you did.”

Liz shakes her heat at that observation. “No, I’ve read them,” she confirms, “and I can believe Kyle is sorry for what happened between us but it doesn’t change anything. In the long run, it doesn’t matter what Kyle says or how he feels because I’m totally in love with Max--,”

“—Oh my God,” Maria gasped, clamping a hand over her mouth.

“—And tonight,” Liz finishes succinctly, as if her friend is not having a mini cow over the revelation, “when everyone has gone home after dinner, I’m going to tell him. So you might want to sleep with your head under a pillow because I plan to celebrate very, very loudly.”

“You’re such a ho bag, Lizzie,” Maria teases, giving her friend a playful shove, “But you’re a lucky ho bag, that’s for damned sure! I can’t say I feel bad for Kyle though…I just really wanted you to come back home.”

“You don’t think I realized that?” Liz deadpans, looping her arm around Maria’s neck. She rolls her eyes theatrically.

“Aww, well I don’t guess you’re as dumb as you look,” Maria tosses back.

Meanwhile, as she and Maria joke around and head off for the kitchen to prepare dinner Max is just stepping from the shower, eager to rejoin them both. He intends to dress casual for tonight’s dinner, but not too casual in honor of her friend’s visit. Max feels guilty that Maria’s first impression of him should be the torrid image of him pressed provocatively between her friend’s thighs. For the first time in his life it matters to him that a woman see him as something more than a playboy. He wants Maria DeLuca to respect him and to realize he is good for Liz. That Liz is good for him also.

However, after fruitless searching, Max discovers that he cannot find his favorite olive green dress shirt anywhere. The last time he saw it Liz was wearing it as her own personal nightshirt. Max can remember how they had a mini disagreement over it but a major make up session later. He cannot recall if he won that argument now but judging from the fact the shirt is obviously not in his possession, he probably didn’t. Shirtless, he heads across the hall to Liz’s bedroom to hunt for it.

Just as Max expects he finds his shirt hanging in her closet at the very back. Smiling to himself, he shrugs into the sleeves and buttons it up, however, as he leaves to join Liz and Maria in the kitchen he catches sight of something peeking out unevenly from Liz’s bureau drawer. Thinking it is merely a scrap of underwear, Max merely means to shove it back in and be on his way but he then realizes that the thing is neither bra nor slip as he first assumed.

When he enters the kitchen some ten minutes later Max feels as if someone has taken a sledgehammer to his heart and seeing Liz laugh so freely with her friend does not help matters. It’s as if his world has shattered but hers is continuing on as usual. In retrospect he probably should not have read those letters. They were not addressed to him, their heartfelt avowals not meant for his eyes but once he began with one there was no way Max could keep himself from reading the rest. And if he had such a strong, unguarded reaction to them he cannot imagine how Liz reacted when she read them. Max doesn’t imagine she will be remaining in Tuscany much longer.

He is actually thankful for the chimes of the door because it gives him an excuse to flee the kitchen and avoid her. But that relief is short-lived. Seeing Liz interact so effortlessly with his family is far more painful. They love Liz and love the idea of them being together but Max is not so sure now that they will be together. He cannot help but resent her pretty blond friend on some level because he sees Maria DeLuca as the one who brought this uncertainty into his house. Therefore, when his brother asks about her during dinner, clearly interested in her blond good looks Max does not have very good things to say about Maria DeLuca. But, of course, his irreverent brother is more intrigued by his assertion rather than deterred.

Liz senses Max’s distance all through dinner. Usually he is always whispering in her ear or nuzzling her. He has never been one ashamed of showing his affection. Max has no problem with touching her, whether his family is watching or not. Yet, tonight he barely speaks to her. He smiles on the outside but she can tell that there is a certain light missing from his eyes. What’s worse is that Liz cannot fathom what has changed, how he can be so hot and determined one moment and so cold and indifferent the next.

She covers his hand with her own where it lays against the table, hoping to offer him silent encouragement. For a moment she fears he may actually jerk away from her touch but then he looks at her and she glimpses the pure anguish in his eyes. Whatever is wrong she wants Max to know that he is not alone. He has her support.

Liz gives his fingers a reassuring squeeze but then goes one better and curves her hand around his nape to bring him close for a brief kiss. She is unprepared for Max’s sudden, hungry assault, however. He kisses her breathless, so impassioned in his response that conversation at the dinner table temporarily halts.

Max wants to brand her in that second, to claim her as his own. He wants Liz to know it and everyone seated at that table, too. He wants to mean more to her than just some pleasant, foreign lay before she returns home to America and her precious Kyle. When he finally pulls away a few seconds later Liz’s mouth is swollen and tingling from his impassioned fervor. She then discovers that all eyes are trained on them. Her cheeks flush with mortified heat. She has to down a glass of Chianti just to endure the stares.

Thankfully, Diana takes it upon herself to resume dinner conversation. “So Maria,” she begins stiffly, directing the aforementioned with narrowed eyes of unhidden dislike, “How long have you known, Elisabetta?”

“All our lives,” Maria answers, between sips of wine, “We met on the elementary school playground in kindergarten and we’ve been inseparable ever since.”

“So then you knew Louisa also?” Filippo inquires casually.

“Aunt Lou? Yeah…totally. I was like her favorite, next to Lizzie, of course. I loved that woman,” Maria says, “She totally rocked my socks!”

“Yes,” Dora murmurs, hiding her smile behind her wine glass, “I do believe Louisa mention you a time or two.”

Maria smirks cheekily. “Good things I hope.”

“Interesting things,” Dora clarifies with a wide smile.

“Well, I am an interesting girl,” she says with a wink in Michele’s direction, clearly not intimidated by what those interesting things might be. Diana growls under her breath, Liz chokes on her wine and Max grinds his teeth while Michele becomes all the more enamored of the outspoken American beauty.

“Is this your first time to Tuscany?” Michele asks her. He receives glares from at least four pairs of eyes for the question but he doesn’t care.

She smiles at him and helps herself to another glass of Chianti. Maria’s knocking back the generally strong wine as if it’s nothing more than fruit punch. This is her fourth glass and she’s only now starting to get a buzz. “Actually, yes, this is my first time here,” she replies coyly, batting her dark lashes flirtatiously, “Why? Are you offering your services as my tour guide?”

“It can be arranged,” Michele murmurs gamely, for which he is pinned with a death glare from his mother.

When the evening finally ends at long last Liz counts it as a blessing. With Maria and Michele’s outrageous flirting, Diana’s tart comments over said flirting, and Max’s monosyllabic grunts she’s just happy to see the back of everyone’s heads. Liz is relieved beyond measure when Maria decides to take Michele up on his offer to show her Tuscany that night because she’s eager to talk to Max alone. Once she has shut the door behind the last of their visitors Liz whirls to face a temperamental Max.

“What’s going on with you?” she demands in a hiss. He goes off sulking into the family room, leaving Liz with little choice but to follow him. “Max, answer me!”

“What?” he snaps, falling down onto the sofa in a huff.

“That kiss!” she clarifies wildly, “Why did you kiss me like that in front of everyone?”

“Oh? So I suppose I cannot kiss you now,” he demands irritably.

“You know what I mean,” she grates, “You’re acting all caveman and I don’t like it.”

“You did not seem to have a problem with it the other night,” he reasons coolly, “In fact…you liked it quite well.” He then rolls to his feet and crosses over to her to slide his arms around her body and pull her against him. “Perhaps this is all you want from me, eh, Lisa?”

“What are you talking about?” she queries in utter confusion, “Max, you’re acting really weird and it’s scaring me.”

“I don’t want to talk,” he declares suddenly, “Facciamo l’amore, tesoro.” However, when he bends to kiss her Liz whirls out of his arms completely.

“No. You’re going to tell me what’s wrong first,” she states brusquely, “Why are you acting so strangely, Max? What happened?”

“Nothing,” he lies haltingly, “I only want to make love to you. You treating me like this is a bad thing, Lisa. I just...it’s only…” He trails off into abrupt silence, frowning to himself. The words are on the tip of his tongue but he can’t force them out. Liz is watching him expectantly, waiting for the moment when he will spill all but he simply can’t do it. His fear gets in the way.

In the end he sighs and shrugs his shoulders. “Don’t worry about me. Vieni qui, mia cara. Ti voglio adesso..” He plucks hold of her wrist and pulls her back against him. “Please, Lisa… Don’t say no to me…please…”

Liz cannot deny his pleading gaze. She doesn’t resist a second time when he tries to kiss her but opens her mouth to him greedily. Nor does she stave off his hands away when he begins to remove her clothing but helps him instead. She clings to him eagerly when he bears her down to the floor and joins his body with hers.

Max strokes inside her intensely, as if he expects for it to be the last time. He cradles her hips against him and buries his face in her shoulder, giving his body over to her completely. His one driving goal is to give her such pleasure that it does not even cross her mind to go back to America. He wants to fill her up so full that there is no room left for anything or anyone else but him.

“Ho paura che tu mi lasci,” he murmurs into her neck, “Ho paura di darti il mio cuore perchè puoi farlo in pezzi. Resta con me. Ho bisogno di te.” He translates the words in his heart as his thrusts gain force and speed, wishing he had the courage to speak them aloud in English. “I’m afraid you’re leaving me. I’m afraid to give you my heart because you have the power to break it. Stay with me. I need you.”

He seeks her mouth then in a needy kiss, spearing his tongue into her mouth in time with the thrusts of his body. Max pushes harder and harder under she finally explodes, crying out his name in a low moan. He follows after her, feeling almost overwhelmed by the violence of his release. His climax burst from his in a steady spurt, leaving him shaken and exhausted and so frightened he can hardly breathe.


AN:

Facciamo l'amore = Let's make love.
Vieni qui, mia cara. Ti voglio adesso. = Come here, my darling. I want you now.

Thanks again, mareli! Tu sei meraviglioso! Grazie!(See, I'm a fast learner!)

As many of you probably already know. I am a wuss and I have no willpower so...here I am posting 13 despite everything. I've written 2/3 of fourteen and mareli's currently looking it over. Hopefully, I'll have the Prologue finished by Monday since I have to work tonight and tomorrow. I also have an idea for a sequel but I want to check with mareli first to make sure she's up to my pestering a second time, lol.

Thanks everybody!


Chapter 13

“I simply don’t understand him, Dora,” Liz complains to her mentor as they show a house to their latest client, “He’s so damned possessive of me, but when it comes to actually sharing something, like talking about his feelings, he shuts down. I mean…he wants to ‘own’ me but he won’t give over any of himself. It’s really frustrating.”

“This is the way with Italian men,” Dora tells her wisely, “Do not give up, Elisabetta.”

“I don’t know,” she mumbles in uncertainty, “I’m beginning to wonder if I just shouldn’t go back with Maria when she returns to the States. Maybe Max doesn’t really want to be with me at all. It feels like I’m grasping for reasons to stay.”

“No, you must not do that!” Dora bursts out, so sharply that Liz actually stumbles a step.

Liz has never seen the older woman have such a volatile reaction and she is a bit shaken by it. She lays a comforting hand against Dora’s forearm as she leans heavily on her cane. Dora is breathing so hard Liz fears she may keel over completely. “Please don’t get yourself worked up,” she implores softly. However, Dora is so distraught she babbles off something in rapid Italian never stopping to consider that Liz can hardly understand what she’s saying. Liz suppresses a smile. “Okay, Dora, I could only pick out a few words there.”

“Elisabetta, you must not go,” Dora insists again.

“I don’t know what else to do,” Liz bemoans, “I feel like I’m just waiting around for the other shoe to drop. What happens when Aunt Louisa’s will has been settled, huh? Are Max and I just supposed to continue like we are?”

“Do you love him?” Dora demands bluntly.

Liz closes her eyes briefly, swallowing back her sudden tears. “So much I can’t breathe,” she whispers.

“Good,” Dora commends with a sigh, “Don’t tell him.”

That isn’t exactly the reaction she expects and her face shows it. “Don’t tell him?” Liz echoes, “Not that I was going to but… Why don’t you want me to tell Max I love him?”

“Because he loves you,” Dora answers simply.

Liz utters a strained guffaw at that pronouncement. She laughs so hard that the client actually pauses in his perusal of the house to throw her a curious stare. Still she can’t stifle the hysterical giggles. She’s literally gasping for breath by the end of it, leaned against a wall in exhaustion. “Oh Dora,” she wheezes, wiping tears of mirth from her eyes, “You’re so sweet to say such things but I don’t have any delusions about Max’s feelings for me. I really doubt he feels for me the way I feel for him.”

“It’s true,” Dora says again, “He loves you, little one.”

“What exactly makes you so sure?” Liz demands, her eyes narrowing with suspicion, “Has he said something to you?”

Dora shakes her head. “Max is a very private person,” she tells Liz, “He would never share something so intimate before telling you first. But he does not need to say the words, mia cara. The truth is in his eyes whenever he look at you.”

“Okay,” Liz concedes a bit dubiously, “So if this is true…if Max loves me like you say he does…why can’t I tell him that I love him?”

“Because all of Max’s life he have women throw themselves at him,” Dora recounts, “He has never been in love though many have been in love with him. But he never appreciate it. He go through women like water. Then you come along and you turn his head so far he can’t turn it back. He crazy for you, Elisabetta, everybody knows it, but he got to fight for you. Too many things for Max been easy. He needs to tell you he love you first. He needs to make the first step.”

Dora’s softly spoken explanation strikes a chord within Liz. She remembers that night when she and Max were on the steps of the Piazza Cisterna fountain and he told her the story of Narciso and Eco. Max has been the one loved all his life, but he has not known what it is like to love. Liz wonders if he recognized the parallels in his life to the story when he told it to her.

“Let him come to you, Elisabetta,” Dora whispers as she watches the pensive frown play of Liz’s features, “Let him tell you he love you first. This is what has to happen.”

“But what if he never tells me,” Liz considers achingly, “What if you’re wrong? Dora, I love him so much but… I’ve had my heart broken once already. If this thing with Max doesn’t work out I don’t think I’ll get over it.”

“You won’t,” Dora confirms softly.

Liz does a doubletake because, once more, Dora figuratively knocks her on her ass. “What did you say?”

“Don’t you realize it yet, mia cara?” Dora murmurs with an affectionate smile, “Max is your soulmate. You two belong together.”

Caught between laughing and crying, Liz smiles over Dora’s whimsical observation. “You’re such a romantic, you know that?”

“This is no romantic notion, Elisabetta,” Dora presses direly, “Louisa and I know this thing for a long, long time.”

“I don’t understand,” Liz whispers.

“When Louisa would read your letters,” Dora recounts wistfully, “It was like we could see your heart and it was Max’s heart. You feel the same things he feel and say the same things he says. You want the same things but you cannot find each other because you are on different sides of the world.”

An alarming prickle runs down Liz’s spine at Dora’s reply. “What exactly are you trying to tell me here?” she queries cautiously.

“Louisa did promise Max the villa,” she confirms in a rush, “He tell you the truth about that.”

“Dear Lord,” Liz mutters.

“—and then she will it to you,” Dora finishes miserably, “She do this on purpose, Elisabetta. We plan for you to come here from the beginning. We plan for you to meet Max and for you to fall in love with each other.”

“Oh my God.” Liz doesn’t know if she should be irate over such blatant manipulation or if she should feel pity for these two elderly ladies who put such faith in a completely fanciful idea.

“We knew that the justice would take forever to decide who get the villa,” Dora explains rapidly, taking advantage of Liz’s momentary speechlessness, “And it would give you both plenty of time to fall in love.”

“Oh my God,” Liz utters again, feeling her ire rise a bit when the magnitude of what her aunt and Dora have orchestrated begins to seep in, “You deceived us. You tricked us.”

“We do it because we believe you were soulmates,” Dora whispers, “and we were right.”

“That doesn’t excuse it,” Liz admonishes, “You both played around with our lives and that wasn’t fair. Dora! You know how important the villa is to Max! Don’t you realize how frightened he was of losing it?”

“That was never going to happen,” Dora replies confidently, “You and Max would have been married by then.”

Liz huffs out an irritated sigh while simultaneously considering Dora’s point of view. She doesn’t know if she believes in soulmates or not but Liz cannot deny that she and Max have an inordinately strong connection. From the first moment she laid eyes on him there was something familiar that drew her to him. Even when she wanted to throttle his arrogant throat she wanted to kiss him senseless as well. Liz knows that Max felt that same connection because they had discussed it since then. Her feelings for him had gone way past mere attraction and rooted deep down to the most undeniable part of herself and Liz had felt…like she knew him. She can’t help but wonder if there is some truth to Dora’s theory. Perhaps, she and Max are soulmates. Perhaps their hearts, despite all logic, recognized each other.

She shakes her head clear of the notion, feeling ridiculous for even buying into such a thing. “Now you’ve got me believing this nonsense,” she mutters to Dora, “Max is going to have a fit.”

“You know that it is not nonsense, Elisabetta,” Dora counters, “And that is why you are so afraid. Please think about what I have said and do not tell Max…not yet. Also, do not be in such a haste to go back to America. Think about all these things I have told you.”

By the time Liz returns home there are many issues weighing heavily on her mind. Her mood plummets further when she spies Max’s car in the drive. He and Maria have recently declared themselves mortal enemies and Liz does not want to imagine the horrors that have ensued in her absence. She is really not in the mind frame to soothe Maria’s ruffled feathers or stroke Max’s ego but she has little choice if she wants to maintain peace in the house. With a heavy sigh, she pushes herself through the front door and prepares for battle. What she gets instead are rose petals of pink, white and red strewn all over the floor.

Liz stops short in speechless surprise, her breath leaking from her chest in a giddy squeak. A smile hovering on her lips, she creeps through the dimmed hallway, following the trail of rose petals left for her. “Max?” she calls out tentatively, “Max? Are you here?” Eventually her journey brings her to the bathroom. Her path disappears beneath the door. Liz pushes it open to find a very naked Max wearing a wide smile and waiting for her in the bathtub. She chokes out a giggle to see him there. “What are you doing?”

“Surprise,” he says simply. She leans in against the doorframe as he scoops up a hand full of bubbles and blows them her way. The sudsy foam lands with a light plop on the floor. But what Liz finds incredibly adorable is the way a few remnant bubbles cling to the tip of Max’s nose.

“Yes,” she agrees, biting her lip to keep her rampant grin under control, “I’m definitely surprised. Max…why did you do all this? What are you up to?”

“This is my apology. I have not been so pleasant these last few days,” he confesses sheepishly.

“No…you think?”

“Is that sarcasm, Lisa?” he teases, his expression comically wounded, “Why you want to make fun of me when you could…take off your clothes and join me instead?”

“Oh, I could, could I?”

“Yes, there is plenty of room,” he invites gamely, “Come here to me, Lisa.” She drifts toward him with a slow smile but stops short a few feet short of the bathtub. “Take down your hair, amore mio,” he commands gruffly.

Without ever taking her eyes from his, Liz deliberately lifts her arms to remove the clip securing her neat and tidy bun. Seconds later, her hair falls around her shoulders in a heavy tide of brown silk, spilling across her shoulders and back. Max’s eyes gleam with satisfied approval. “Now your jacket,” he coaxes.

Acutely aware of his burning gaze, Liz unfastens each button, taking her precious time when doing so. When she finally shrugs from her jacket completely she makes sure to give him an inviting glimpse of her cleavage as she does. He gasps out a moan of anticipation and Liz’s insides quiver at the sound. It’s a curious thing. They haven’t kissed yet or even touched but the moment is still incredibly erotic.

“Now what?” she prods thickly.

“The blouse,” he directs and the words sound as if they’re being strangled from him. Liz shrugs out of that as well, taking the same time she did with her jacket. She makes each movement sensual, provocative and filled with promise. Liz feels much more confident doing this after talking to Dora. Now she is filled with all sorts of hope for their future. Max could not have ever planned something so romantic if he did not care. He simply needs to find the courage to tell her.

Liz lets her blouse drop to the floor, her body becoming fevered under his stare. “Now?”

“The skirt, too.” She removes that as well, revealing the shimmery white slip beneath. Max’s brow furrows to see it. “How much clothes you wear, Lisa?” he groans in exasperation.

She swallows back a giggle at his impudent remark. “Do you want me to take off the rest?”

He can’t nod eagerly enough. “Yes.” When she removes her bra he moans aloud but when she removes her slip, stockings and panties he comes out of the tub after her, haplessly sloshing water across the floor as he does. His mouth is sealed to hers in a scorching kiss before she can even kick out of her high heels. He envelops her in his arms, in his kiss, his slick body rubbing sensuously against hers, growing hard.

“Let’s go to bed,” he announces suddenly, swinging her up into his arms.

“But…but what about the bath!” she protests as he bears her towards the bedroom.

“Più tardi,” he whispers hotly, “Later.”

Più tardi finds the lovers tangled up amid Max’s bed sheets and half limp with exhaustion. Liz lies on her stomach, one arm dangled over the edge of the bed while Max applies tender kisses down her spinal column. “Where do you think all this is going with us, Max?” she asks casually, hoping to force the issue, hoping to hear him say that he loves her. God knows she wants to tell him but Dora’s words are still fresh with her. Max goes utterly still behind her and his reaction shakes Liz’s confidence a bit. She rolls over onto her back to face him fully. “Do you want this to go somewhere?”

“Do you?” he counters cautiously. In the back of his mind are the letters he found only a few days earlier. Is she asking him because she’s ready to commit or because she doesn’t want him to get his hopes up? Max wants desperately to ask her about the letters but then he has no valid reason for having gone through her private belongings. He can’t admit to knowing about the letters without also admitting to invading her privacy, too.

“Max, you’re talking in circles,” Liz whispers in frustration, “Why can’t you just be honest with your feelings? Why can’t you give yourself to me emotionally the way you do when we’re making love?”

“Lisa…” he murmurs gruffly, “I…I want to…”

“Then why don’t you?” she cajoles.

“I…Lisa, I…This is very hard to say, but…” They suddenly hear the slamming of the front door and Max rears back from her, immediately closing himself off. Liz represses the urge to growl in aggravation. “Maria and Michele have returned from Florence,” he declares, “She will probably want to talk to you.”

“Probably,” Liz concedes evenly, straining to catch his darting gaze, “But we were talking, Max.”

“We can talk later,” he evades, already rolling from the bed to pull on his clothing, “Go be with your friend.”

Chapter 14

It finally looks as if the renovations on the villa will see completion.

The Ricci family has gathered once again at the house for work and drinks and fellowship. However, this particular gathering is not as easy going as the others. Liz is miffed at Max. Dora is miffed at Max. Max is miffed at Maria. Diana and Isabella are miffed at Maria. And Michele and Maria cannot keep their hands off each other. Only Filippo and Alessandro remain innocent bystanders and even they are feeling the lash of everyone’s ill humor.

Liz sits beneath the shade of the old gnarled tree where Louisa and Roberto fell in love, attempting to make her latest journal entry but she is constantly distracted by thoughts of Max. She is beginning to think that Dora’s advice of making Max come to her is not so good. The man is steadfast like a mule. Perhaps he never will admit his love aloud. Max is more demonstrative. He’s shown her his feelings in a thousand ways already but Dora is adamant that he must make a declaration. Liz must not make it easy for him.

Yet, she continues on uncertain. Liz wishes she had gone through with her plans to tell him she loved him the other night like she planned but he was acting so strangely that she lost her nerve. Now she realizes why he was acting so strangely but if he can never admit his feelings to her where will that leave them?

She mutters a series of Italian curses under her breath. Those she has learned rather quickly under Max’s willing tutelage. It all seems a ridiculous game to her. She is actually on the verge of marching over to him and putting her feelings out there when she notices a small cloud of dust rolling its way up the earthen path leading towards the house. Frowning, Liz stands and shields her eyes against the sun, recognizing that the ball of dust is, in actuality, a taxi. Her frown deepens as she begins wracking her brain over who had come to visit.

Everyone else stops as well, even the workers, as the taxi approaches. Max comes to stand beside her, breaking the silence between them to ask, “Are you expecting someone?”

“No.” She flicks him with a curious glance. “Are you?” He shrugs his ignorance as the cabbie rolls to a stop. Liz takes a step forward to greet whoever it is but freezes in place when the unexpected visitor alights from the back seat. It is Kyle. Oh my God, Liz thinks but it is Maria who actually utters the oath aloud.

Kyle fixes Liz with a shy, unsure smile. “How you doing, Liz?” he asks, as if it has not been months since they last spoke.

Liz is aware of Max stiffening beside her as well as the ever-growing crowd around them but she is too shocked to deal with that right now. “Kyle,” she gasps in disbelief, “What are you doing here? How did you even find me?”

“It wasn’t easy,” he laughs lightly, “I had to do a lot of lying…a lot of it.”

“Yeah…well, you’re good at that,” Liz retorts without heat.

Kyle ducks his head in chagrin. “I suppose I deserve that,” he mutters, “I wouldn’t be surprised if you hated me, Liz.”

“I don’t hate you,” Liz says and she realizes it’s true. She doesn’t. She doesn’t feel anything for him anymore. “What are you doing here?” she asks him again.

He scratches behind his ear in obvious discomfort, sharply aware of the dozen pairs of eyes and ears trained on their conversation. “Do we have to do this with an audience?” he wonders uneasily.

“She is not going anywhere with you,” Max interrupts, his eyes narrowed into dangerous slits of menace.

“Excuse me?” Kyle tosses back, taking a challenging step forward.

Liz holds out her hands to stave him off. The last thing she needs is for them to come to blows. Max looks angry enough to shed blood. Diana Ricci will simply love that. “No, Kyle…he’s right,” she declares softly, “I’m not going anywhere with you. Say what you have to say right here.”

Kyle runs a shaky hand through is unkempt blond hair, regarding Liz with compelling blue eyes. “I suppose Maria gave you my letters?”

At the mention of the letters, Liz slides an uneasy glance over in Max’s direction. The flash of pain she spies on his features before they harden into an implacable mask speaks volumes. But there is no surprise. Liz suspects that he knew about the letters long before this moment. If that’s true, it goes a long way in explaining his strange behavior of late. She turns back to Kyle and confirms his question with a nod.

“Yes. She gave me the letters,” Liz tells him, “But they don’t make a difference, Kyle. You destroyed my trust in you and I can’t--,”

“Wait!” he interrupts desperately, “Before you go any further, hear me out! I know I fucked up, Liz, and I know I probably don’t deserve a second chance with you. In fact, I know I don’t but… These last few months have been hell without you, baby. I came all this way to tell you that. I want you to come back home with me. I want you to give me another chance. I want you to--,” Kyle digs around in his pocket to produce a small black, velvet box. He flips back the lid to reveal a half-carat engagement ring before finishing his heartfelt speech. “—I want you to marry me, Liz.”

No one is prepared for Max reaching forward and deftly knocking the engagement ring from Kyle’s hand as if it’s nothing more than a pesky insect. Mouths go agape when the box lands in the dust. “No,” he answers implacably, “No, she will not marry you.”

“Hey, buddy!” Kyle fires out angrily, “Who the fuck do you think you are?” Kyle thinks better of lunging at Max or taking a wild swing, however, because he suddenly has three protectors step up behind him, menace in their eyes. The old guy Kyle doesn’t find so very intimidating but the two younger ones look like they may put a hurting on him. Wisely, he backs down and scoops up the ring from the ground. “What the hell is your problem?”

“Elisabetta will not marry you,” Max declares again, “Torna al tuo paese! Go back to where you come from!”

“Max,” Liz says in a furious whisper, “Max, I can handle this!” She has no intention of accepting Kyle’s proposal and she suspects that Max is reacting the way he is because he does not know that. Liz wants to gain control of the situation before things get really bad. Unfortunately, things are already really bad.

“Hey, Italian boy,” Kyle snaps, regaining Max’s attention, “What’s the matter with you? Can you not understand that Liz and I are having a private conversation? Go make yourself scarce, okay! She doesn’t need a watchdog!” Max continues glaring at him with an expression that could crack marble. Kyle does not know what to make of him. Is he some new friend Liz has made? The caretaker? Whoever he is Kyle wants him to be gone because he needs the opportunity to speak with Liz in private. “You don’t understand English so good?” he shouts in frustration, “Go away!”

“Kyle, please…” Liz scolds but it is too late. Max’s temper has already erupted.

He grasps Kyle by the lapels of his shirt and lifts the shorter man clean off the ground so that his feet are left dangling. “I understand you very well,” he grits through his teeth, “Now you understand me, bastardo! This is my home and my land and I didn’t invite you here. I want you to leave here now…while you are able and the full use of your legs. Vattene!.” He shoves Kyle away then so that he lands haplessly in the dirt a few feet away.

Kyle fearfully scrambles to his feet, brushing the dirt from his trousers. “Liz, who the fuck is this guy?” he demands irately, “Is he a psycho?”

“I am her lover, American boy,” Max retorts sharply, causing Liz to groan in mortification, Maria to choke with laughter, and Dora to smile broadly. “And you are not fit to even look at her. If Lisa marries anyone it will be me.”

“Damn, that’s got to be one for Guinness,” Maria mutters somewhere from behind, “Two proposals in five minutes. Whoo-hoo, Lizzie! I fucking love Italy!”

Liz ignores Maria’s flippant comment for the moment. Her mortification over Max’s actions is forgotten with his fervent, unschooled declaration. She stares up at him incredulously. “Max?” she whispers, “Max, what are you saying to me?”

He grasps her by the forearms and swings her around to face him fully. “I do not want you to marry this pig, Lisa!” he spits, “I do not want you to return to America! I want you to stay here with me!”

“Why, Max?” she prompts with a thudding heart, overlooking his brutish behavior for the moment, “Why do you want me to stay here?”

“Because I love you, Lisa,” he murmurs fervidly, “Ti amo, tesoro! I have loved you since that day we visit the Piazza Cisterna and you listened to me while I told you the story of Narciso and Eco… I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

“Oh, Max…” she breathes, a wistful smile curving her lips as she cradles his face in her hands, “Do you have any idea how long I’ve been waiting for you to say that to me? I love you, too.” Their mouths crush together in a joyful kiss while everyone around them breaks out into disjointed applause.

Maria flicks a devastated Kyle with an “oh well” glance. “Guess you got your answer, huh?” she quips unrepentantly, “That really sucks for you, doesn’t it?”

However, even Maria is all out of facetious comments when Max unexpectedly hooks his arm around Liz’s waist and, without ever breaking their connection, begins hauling her towards the house, his intentions obvious to everyone. Embarrassed coughs, raucous cheering as well as sputters of disbelief and Diana Ricci’s brisk admonishments in Italian follow them into the house. Max pays no heed to any of them.

When they gain the privacy of Max’s bedroom Liz attempts to hold off his hungry kisses. “Max, wait!” she cries as he begins stripping off his shirt, “Don’t you think we should talk first?”

She isn’t surprised when he answers with a grunting, “Più tardi.” They fall onto his bed in a laughing tangle of arms and legs.

This time when Max makes love to her it is like no other time before that. He removes clothing from her body deliberately, as if he is unwrapping the most perfect treasure. For the first time he does not hesitate to murmur words of love and devotion in her ear, both in English and Italian. When he slides into her slick heat the moment is profound because he knows it is the first of many times to come. He will spend the rest of his life loving this woman. The recognition is a happy one and humbling, too.

They find their fulfillment together, clinging to each other with gasping moans and rambling whispers of need. Afterwards, Max does not pull out of her but rolls over onto his back and takes her with him so that they can maintain their connection even after the final glimmers of their shared orgasm have winked out. It seems appropriate that they are so entwined in one another because they have now become one. No longer Liz and Max separately, but one entity, one heart…one love.

Liz sprawls across Max’s hard chest, her eyelids drooping a bit when he begins massaging her scalp with the pads of his fingers. His touch feels wonderful and relaxing. She wants to sleep but at the same time she wants to clear up the lingering misunderstandings between them. They deserve a clean slate. Liz’s determination to have one is the only thing that keeps her from nodding off.

“Did you really mean those things you said outside?” she wonders sleepily, her breath stirring against his nipple with every word. Within her, Max begins to stir as well.

He tips down his head to regard her. “You mean about loving you?” he queries.

She glances up at him, her nodding creating a sensitized prickling against his skin. “Did you really mean what you said or was that for Kyle’s benefit?”

“I really mean it,” he says quietly, “I say it again for you. I love you, Elisabetta.”

“And I love you,” she whispers back, resting her cheek back against his chest, “God, Max! We should have said that to each other weeks ago.” She falls silent for a few moments, tracing her finger over the naked plain of his chest. “Were you ever going to tell me about finding those letters?” she asks casually.

He starts beneath her guiltily, evidently not expecting that question at all. “How did you know I had found them?”

She grins into his skin. “You’re not as good at hiding your emotions as you think, Max,” she laughs, “The moment Kyle mentioned them I saw the look on your face.”

“I was not trying to invade your privacy, Lisa,” he whispers in apology, “I was hurt and jealous and I did a foolish thing.”

Liz drops a kiss to his bare shoulder. “Don’t apologize,” she tells him, “If our positions were reversed I probably would have done the same. I just wish you’d come to me after you found them, Max. I could have easily explained the situation to you. You need to talk to me about your feelings…I can’t read your mind. It’s the only way this thing is going to work between us.”

Max knows she’s right so he decides to ask the question that is foremost on his mind. “Why were you keeping them?” he asks gruffly.

“I wasn’t,” Liz replies, “I had only finished reading them when you came home. Stuffing them in the drawer was just automatic on my part but I never had any intention of keeping them.”

“So…you feel nothing for him?” Max queries tentatively, “His words did not move you at all?”

Liz casts a dubious glance down the length of their naked bodies and then back to her boyfriend’s uncertain face. “I would think that’s fairly obvious, Max, wouldn’t you?” she quips.

Max grins then, the confident, indolent grin she’s become accustomed to. “So I suppose this means I must marry you after all,” he sighs expansively.

“Weeell…after that display in the courtyard I sort of expect it,” Liz confirms, unable to keep from smiling.

“Then I guess I can do this,” he declares, bringing her close for a sound kiss, “Louisa should be glad over her handy work…wherever she is…”

Liz rears back in surprise over his words, her eyes round. “Why do you say that?”

“Louisa wanted all this, did she not?” he wonders mildly, “Why else would she promise me the villa but leave it to you, amore mio. I think she plan it this way.”

“How long have you known?”

“I’m not certain of this,” he emphasizes, “But it is what I suspect. Louisa was an honorable woman. She would never go back on her word unless she had a very good reason, you know.”

“Us,” Liz concludes with a broadening smile, “She did it for us, Max.”

“Si, amore mio.,” he sighs, “For us.”


AN: Duh, I forgot this part.

Torna al tuo paese! = Go back home!
Vattene! = Go away!
bastardo is pretty self-explanatory, lol.

Epilogue

Elizabeth Parker does not have a large wedding but that does not make the ceremony any less meaningful. She wears a simple, floor length white gown and a latticed, handmade veil, both of which belonged to Max’s mother. The gown hugs her slender frame closely while the veil shields her beautiful face from the sight of her future husband. It seems fitting that he will have his first glimpse of her when they finally stand together beneath the shade of the gnarled love tree together. All the Riccis have found love there; have joined their lives there.

She stands on the edge of the courtyard waiting for her musical cue, thinking back with a smile to her conversation with her future mother-in-law just a few weeks earlier.

Diana Ricci had come by the house at a time she had known Max would be out, a fact that set Liz immediately on alert. But Diana had come bearing smiles and gifts, so Liz relaxed her guard just a bit before letting the older woman inside. Liz had reasoned that whatever had brought couldn’t be so bad if she was smiling.

As per her usual, Diana had cut straight to the chase, never having been one for circumventing to start. “Elisabetta,” she’d begun after a fortifying sigh, “I am here to apogi…apolgi…well…I want to say I’m sorry, Lisa.”

From that moment she caught Liz’s full attention and kept it. “You…You’re sorry,” Liz sputtered in surprise, “But why…? For what? I don’t understand.”

Diana’s face had darkened with shame as she explained. “Massimiliano is my eldest son,” she said, “For you he is a man but for me he is still my boy. When I see how he look at you with stars in his eyes I become afraid for him. I can see he loving you fast and hard and I think, ‘What if she decide to go back to America?’ You would take my Max with you because I can see in his eyes he will follow you anywhere. I was afraid…that you would take my son and I would never have him back.

“But then I see how you love this house,” she had gone on, “How you wanna make it a home with him. And I see how you make Max so happy. You are a good girl, Elisabetta. I know you are good for my son and I am happy for you both.”

Liz had been dumbfounded from her heartfelt, never suspecting that Diana’s early hostility towards her had all been rooted in fear. Her response had been stammering at best but still she’d felt she needed to say something. “I…my goodness…I… Thank you, Signora Ricci…Diana, thank you. I promise I will do everything I can to make Max happy. He’ll never be sorry he married me and you’ll never be sorry you accepted me as a daughter-in-law.”

It was after their sincere exchange that Diana gave Liz the gift she’d brought along, the wedding gown and veil. “This veil has been in my family for generations,” Diana told her, “Not the Riccis but my own. It belong to my mother and her mother before her and her mother before her. All the women of my family had this at their wedding. Now I want you to have it.”

“I…thank you…so much…” Liz had murmured. She had wanted to run her fingers over the fine embroidery stitched into the veil but the moment had seemed so surreal to her that she dared not. Her eyes had misted over with tears over Diana’s generosity of spirit.

Diana had smiled at her fondly before leaning forward to embrace Liz warmly, albeit awkwardly. “You must do one last thing for me, Lisa,” she said.

“Anything.”

“You must learn to speak Italian,” Diana quipped laughingly, “How do I give you cooking lessons in this terrible English?” They had laughed at her joke and cried, too.

Liz cries now as she recalls the conversation. She cannot help but marvel over the wonder of it. All her life she has wanted a family that was bonded by love for each other, values and heritage. How ironic that she should have to travel halfway across the globe to find it.

Her own parents are not attending her wedding. They were not approving of her break-up with Kyle and, therefore, disapproving of Max before they even laid eyes on him. When Liz sent them the invitations they had sent them back so now Liz must make her walk down the aisle alone. She had many offers for the honor from Michele and Alessandro but Liz is adamant that she must walk alone. Curiously, the idea does not sadden her. The days of her being alone are soon to end. Family and future awaits her in the last person she ever expected, an arrogant, self-assured former playboy and she loves him beyond belief.

Her best friend is here, standing opposite to her future husband, looking every bit a proud and loyal bridesmaid. She and Max have not made fast friends and yet she has never failed to be anything less than supportive. Sure, Maria complains excessively over Liz’s decision not to return to the States but Liz knows her friend would never truly do anything to subvert her happiness. Everyone present that day is there for the right reason, Liz knows. They are there to witness as she and Max pledge their lives to one another. They are there to celebrate a profound union. Liz cannot expect or ask for anything more.

When Liz reaches Max’s side finally she is beaming brightly with excitement and so is he. The happy smiles cannot be blasted from their faces. This is the moment they have dreamed of even long before each knew the other existed. This is their moment of completion, the moment when they finally become, before God and man, one heart, one soul, one…

Elisabetta and Massimiliano.

TBC…


Look for the continuing adventures of Max and Liz in the sequel, And Then There Were Three... Coming soon, lol.