Accidentally Expecting! by Lucy Gordon

waiting for her with endless patience, knowing exactly how to…
    She sat up, trembling and annoyed with herself. What was the matter with her?
    ‘Just friendly’. That was the matter.
    When Dante returned, he found her fully dressed.
    ‘I’ve had enough of this,’ she said fretfully. ‘I think I’ll go into town.’
    ‘Great idea,’ he said. ‘I’ll show you the shops, then we’ll go to dinner.’
    She ground her nails into her palm. Why couldn’t he at least show some ill temper, like any other man, thus giving her the chance to feel annoyed with him?
    But the wretch wouldn’t even oblige her in that.
    Because he wasn’t like any other man.
    At least she’d made him put his clothes on.
    They spent the rest of the day sedately, buying the odd garment, and also buying computer software. In one shop she discovered a superb programme that she hadn’t expected to be available for another month, and snapped it up. Over dinner, she enthused about it to Dante, who listened with genuine interest. It was the high point of the day.
    On reflection, she thought that said it all.
    Afterwards he saw her to her door but made no attempt to come in.
    ‘Goodnight,’ he said. ‘Sleep well.’
    She went in, restraining herself with difficulty from slamming the door.
    Furiously she thought of the signals he’d sent out that day, signals that had said clearly that he wanted her and was controlling it with difficulty. But the signals had changed. Now he might have been made of ice, and it was obvious why.
    He was scheming. He wanted her to be the one to weaken. If either of them was overcome with desire, it must be her. In his dreams, she succumbed to uncontrollable lust, reaching out to entice him.
    Hell would freeze over first!
     
    Next day they promised themselves a lazy time in the sun.
    ‘I could happily stay here for ever,’ Dante said, stretching out luxuriously. ‘Who cares about work?’
    It was at that exact moment that a voice nearby called, ‘ Ciao , Dante!’
    He started up, looked around, then yelled, ‘Gino!’
    Ferne saw a man in his fifties, dressed in shirt and shorts, advancing on them with a look of delight on his broad face.
    ‘Is that…?’
    ‘Gino Tirelli,’ Dante said, jumping up.
    When the two men had clapped each other on the shoulder, Dante introduced Ferne.
    ‘Always I am pleased to meet English people,’ Gino declared. ‘At this very moment, my house is full of important English people.’
    ‘So that’s why you asked me to delay my arrival,’ Dante said. ‘Who’ve you got there? Members of the government?’
    ‘A film company,’ Gino said in an awed voice. ‘They’re making a film of Antony and Cleopatra and shooting some scenes in the ruins in my grounds. The director is staying with me, and of course the big star.’
    ‘And who is the big star?’ Ferne asked, suitably wide-eyed.
    Before Gino could reply there was a squeal from behind them, and they all turned to see a young man of about thirty with curly, fair hair and a perfectly tanned body strollingalong the beach in a careless way, suggesting that he was unaware of the sensation he created.
    But he was fully aware of it, as Ferne knew. Sandor Jayley always knew exactly what effect he was creating.
    ‘Oh no!’ she breathed.
    ‘What is it?’ Dante asked her in a low voice. ‘Good grief, it’s—?’
    ‘Tommy Wiggs.’
    The young man came closer, pulling off a light shirt and tossing it to a companion, revealing a muscular body sculpted to perfection, now wearing only a minuscule pair of trunks. Regarding him grimly, Dante was forced to concede one thing: as Ferne had said, he did have magnificent thighs.
    ‘I’ve got to get out of here before he sees me,’ she muttered. ‘That’ll really put the cat among the pigeons.’
    But it was too late. Sandor had seen his host and was starting up the beach towards him, doing a well-honed performance of bonhomie .
    ‘Gino,’ he called. Then, as he saw Ferne, his