Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Amici ed Amanti - Roman Holiday - Part 7
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The tiny little fishing village was more beautiful than Lucy Ann could have ever imagined with white stone buildings topped with red roofs huddled together on a steep hillside overlooking the Mediterranean Sea. The weather was picture perfect with warm sunshine, fluffy white clouds dotting the sky and a soft sea breeze.
And any doubts she might have that morning dissipated the moment they stepped out of the small Italian Ministry office. This was going to be a wonderful weekend, she just knew it. The village was beautiful, the weather was perfect and the company was most excellent. She was just going to relax, go with the flow and have a good time.
Liam was looking relaxed in his baggy khaki linen pants, white linen shirt half unbuttoned and a pair of sandals. She had opted for a loose fitting light olive raw silk sun dress and a straw hat. She thought that they made a smashing couple, if she said so herself.
The afternoon was whiled away perusing shops and taking in the sights. They spent a good bit of time in a little, overcrowded antique shop carefully looking over all the goods. She must have tried on every ring in the jewelry case before falling instantly in love with a gold ring with two intertwined bands - one smooth and the other with an etched swirl design. She placed the ring back in the display case with a sigh - she needed another ring like she needed a hole in her head.
"What were you and that shopkeeper arguing about when I went outside?" Lucy Ann asked, settling down at a table in a sunny little café on the beach.
Liam sat two tall glasses of water on the table after placing their order. "He made me an offer for my ring and I politely turned him down."
Her eyes went straight to the heavy platinum Malfoy signet ring he'd worn on his ring finger of his right hand since he was fifteen, just like the one his father wore. "How much did he offer?"
"Not nearly enough," Liam sniffed. She could tell he was still offended. "I did get a good price on the piece I bought for Mum. Her birthday is coming up, you know."
She knew that if there was ever anyone on the face of the Earth that Liam loved; it had to be his mother. "Oh, what did you get for her?"
He produced a small rose quartz trinket box with a cameo of a faerie for a lid. "She collects unusual trinket boxes."
"It's beautiful, she'll love it!"
"I hope so."
"What is this?" she asked suspiciously, picking up a little box wrapped in Florentine paper and tied with a gold ribbon. She hadn't noticed him slipping anything in front of her.
He looked up from rewrapping the trinket box. "I have no idea."
"Don't give me that innocent look. Tell me what it is."
"Why don't you open it and see for yourself," he said, giving her a half-smile.
She carefully unwrapped the little present, her eyes growing round once she saw what was inside. "William Draco Malfoy! You shouldn't have!"
"Why not?" he asked. "You liked it, you should have it." He plucked the box from her hands, took the ring and slipped it on the thumb of her left hand. "There, that looks nice."
"It's beautiful." Lucy Ann admired her new ring, watching it gleam in the bright sunlight.
"Beautiful witches should have beautiful things," he said with a wink.
After a leisurely lunch of roasted vegetables tossed in olive oil with garlic served over a bed of spinach pasta, they wandered the streets taking in the sights until they found a suitable Bed and Breakfast that was overlooking the harbor. Lucy Ann stood by Liam's side as he secured accommodations from the proprietress in quickly spoken Italian. She wasn't quite sure what to make of the knowing look the old woman gave her and the chuckle from him that followed.
"What was that about?" she finally asked, half way up the stairs to their rooms.
"Signorina Caravati was telling me that we were lucky to find rooms because there is a road race not far from here tomorrow, but she always kept a special room on reserve just in case."
"Just in case of what?" She stopped behind him on the third floor landing, there was only one door.
"Honeymooners."
He unlocked the door and pushed it open, revealing a large airy room decorated with rosewood furniture and accented in creams and mauves. A rather small, at least in her opinion, bed was the focal point, a small brocade settee and a pair of chairs faced a white marble fireplace to the right of the bed, and to the left, double doors that led out to a small balcony with a view of the harbor. It was a beautiful room and it most definitely was romantic.
"She thinks we're newlyweds?"
He chuckled as he sat their bags on the dresser. "We got a private bath and the entire third floor to ourselves. I'm not complaining."
"So, uhm, where will you be sleeping then?" She couldn't take her eyes off the small bed, the pit of her stomach was somewhere around her feet just thinking about the prospect of sharing a bed with him again. She could have stayed with him forever the other morning when he was sick - having ended up sleeping cuddled together buried under the blankets. She'd been sorely tempted then...
"In the bed there," he said, giving her a most dubious look. "We're both adults here. I think we can handle it. Besides the sofa is too small."
Her mind wanted to retort with you're a wizard aren't you - just charm it as warning bells went off, but she found her mouth saying, "Yes, the sofa is entirely too small."
"Good, it's settled," he answered, fishing around in his bag until he surfaced with his navy blue swimmers. "I can't promise I won't steal the covers."
"Great, a cover hog." She dove into her bag searching for her swimsuit. "Just what I need."
"Yeah, well, you just look like a bed hog." He dropped his shirt to the floor and started working on slipping out of his trousers.
"I am not!"
"If you say so."
"Am not." She knew he was baiting her, but she was powerless to stop it. He was just too irresistible. "I'll prove it to you."
"Oh?" He quirked up an eyebrow. "How do you plan on doing that?"
"I don't know yet," she stammered. "But I will!"
"It's awfully small bed there," he said with a grin. His trousers were riding dangerously low on his hips and she couldn't tear her eyes away from his lower abdomen. He most definitely had kept up with the Quidditch playing. He patted her on the derrière as he padded past her. "Go on; get changed so we can go swimming before dinner. By the way, it's common practice for women to go topless at the beach."
They spent the remainder of the afternoon playing in the warm waters of the Mediterranean Sea. She felt a little self-conscious being the only woman on the beach in a one piece swimsuit, but she didn't fail to notice that Liam's eyes never strayed from her vicinity. Once they were tired of swimming, they walked the beach collecting seashells until after dusk before heading in for a light supper and a quiet evening.
Lucy Ann dressed for bed in her favorite thin strapped taupe colored silk nightgown after soaking in the huge claw footed tub for over an hour. Liam had checked on her twice just to make sure she hadn't drown, saying he didn't want to have to explain anything to her parents. He was sprawled across the settee reading Quidditch Italia Mensilmentey wearing deep green silk pjyama bottoms and an old Slytherin t-shirt. She pulled on her robe before joining him, sitting opposite with her legs draped over his. He handed her The Dark Pitch, the latest legal thriller by Millicent Bulstrode Longbottom about an international Quidditch star wrongly accused of his wife's murder. He'd gotten her a signed copy for her birthday.
"Goose," he said, shaking her lightly, "you're snoring."
She looked around trying to figure out where she was. "I don't snore," she retorted.
"And I'm the Queen of England. I think it's time for you to go to bed."
Her stomach tightened into a knot at the thought of getting into bed with him. It wasn't that she was afraid he'd try anything, that wasn't the problem; she knew he'd never treat her with anything less than the utmost respect. What bothered her was the fact that she didn't want him to treat her that way. She wanted to know what it was like to be desired by him, to kiss him, to make love to him, to wake up next to him in the mornings. She wanted to be the kind of witch that made him lose control.
In short, she wanted to be more like Isabella and far less like Lucy Ann.
"Goosey?" he asked, getting her attention again.
"Yeah, I think you're right." She struggled to her feet because he refused to move his legs. "Are you coming?"
"I will in bit," he said, his attention focus on his magazine once more.
She padded over the bed, opting for the right side knowing it was his side, and dropped her robe before climbing between the soft sheets. After getting her pillow situated just right, she got as close to the edge of her side as she possibly could without actually falling out. And then she waited for him to join her.
And waited.
The room was dark when her eyes popped open at the feel of the bed sagging under Liam's weight behind her. She could feel him settling down somewhere near the middle, not touching her, but close enough that she could feel the warmth radiating off his body. She would have given anything to roll over and cuddle up next to him. Just the thought of him being so close made her heart skip. Keeping their relationship on a friends only level was becoming increasingly more difficult, on her end at least.
She almost fell over the edge of the bed with a jerk when his hand skimmed her hip. "Lucy Ann, what are you doing so close to the edge?" he whispered harshly. "You're going to fall out."
"I'm okay," she whispered back, scarcely daring to breathe for fear of pitching over the edge. "I don't want to be a bed hog."
A deep chuckle rumbled in his chest, causing the bed to shake a little. "Don't worry; Gareth is the worst bed hog of them all. You barely take up any space."
Liam's arm snaked around her waist and he pulled back against him, her body quickly adjusted to accommodate his position. She could feel his warm breath against her neck and shoulder as he nuzzled his face in her soft hair. He had lost his t-shirt somewhere between the settee and the bed.
"There, now you won't fall out of bed," he said, loosening his arm still around her waist.
This was even better than the other morning when he was sick, although she had to force herself to relax at first. She hugged his arm to her, "No, no falling for me."
"Nope," he mumbled, "I've always got you."
She smiled, snuggling against him, loving the feel of his chest against her back and his slightly spicy smell. In a perfect world, he would be hers forever and this would be their every night.
Unfortunately, she didn't live in a perfect world, but just for the night she could pretend.
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