Page 85 of Villa of Secrets

Giovanni walked me back to the hut, always by a different route. Before parting, we arranged to meet under the cinnamon tree that evening. I had dreamed about returning to our special place, and my body tingled with excitement, longing for his touch and his kisses.

I bathed at the spring and removed the splint from my wrist, although it still ached. I held a teaspoon of honey in my mouth for as long as possible, making sure he would never taste a sweeter kiss. Then, I hurried through the trees, eager for his caresses.

He wasn’t there.

I was staring at the cinnamon tree, when a pair of hands slid over my eyes.

‘Guess who?’

I caught my breath. ‘Giovanni!’

He wrapped his arms around me, trapping mine by my sides, then he kissed the back of my neck. ‘I’ve missed you,’ he said, turning me and kissing me on the lips.

I stood on my toes and pressed my mouth against his, my legs trembling. He pulled away, sucking his lip. ‘Mmm, kisses flavoured with honey. Are you cold? You’re shaking.’

I shook my head.

He pulled me into his arms. My body seemed transported on the wings of Eros. I pressed against him, burning with desire to be closer. I held him tightly but then cried out as pain shot up my arm.

‘What’s the matter?’ he asked.

‘No, nothing, it’s my wrist. I took the splint off.’ I clutched it to my chest. ‘It still hurts sometimes.’

‘Come on. I’ll roll you a cigarette.’

We sat together, our backs against the tree, smoking the herb-scented cigarette. As discomfort drifted away, euphoria moved in. He nuzzled my ear. Such powerful urges raced through me. I longed to have his skin against mine.

‘Kiss me again?’ I whispered.

He half closed his eyes. ‘I want more than a kiss, Dora. I can’t get you out of my mind. You’ve managed to take over my heart too.’

His words thrilled me. ‘Behave, Shepherd Boy,’ I said, enjoying his wide smile. We kissed under the cinnamon tree, and my passion found new highs. A glut of emotion, tingling, intoxicating, and urgent seemed to envelop my body. My head buzzed like the air before a lightning strike, during a thunderstorm. Aware that Giovanni was equally excited, I was both afraid and exhilarated by such powerful sensations.

Giovanni took off his shirt and pulled me against his bare chest. My heart pounded.

Momentarily, I sensed the shepherd was also unsure of himself. We both ventured into unknown territory. Passionate about each other, we tried to bridle our desire, but nature tugged at the reigns and we found it difficult to keep our feelings, and actions, under control. We seemed to be kissing for hours. Tremors raced through me, and I loved each moment, becoming bolder and more intimate by the minute.

On our backs, side by side under the cinnamon tree, we took a calming break. He had explored every centimetre of my body, and I, his. I had ached for hands to slide under my clothes, to places that had never been touched before.

I didn’t understand my own feelings. I wanted him so badly, yearning to have him inside me, yet scared of reaching that point of no return. Afraid he would hurt me. Afraid he would take my heart and my virginity and leave me alone once more.

I would die if that happened.

We watched the moon slide over the treetops. It passed its zenith and was heading for the western horizon. ‘I should go.’ I didn’t want to. ‘It must be around four.’

‘Then you may as well stay,’ he said, reaching over and pulling me on top of him. His mouth was against my ear, his breath tickling my neck. ‘I’ve had crazy thoughts about you since that first kiss, Dora. Tell me you feel the same.’

In his arms, everything was forgotten. Encompassed by love and happiness, my emotions were soon drenched in passion for Giovanni. I was hot and wet and insanely burning up with feelings stronger than I had ever known. By the time the sun rose, my innocence had flown like a moth in the night, destroyed by outrageous flames of desire. Beneath the cinnamon tree, Giovanni Pastore made love to me, and I made love to him.

I am certain, I will never love another man as long as I live.

Late on Monday, 21 August 1944

I can’t get to sleep. Earlier today, Evangelisa’s insatiable curiosity about what I was doing for the Andartes drove me mad. She’s always asking questions and I wonder if Xanthi is prompting her. To be honest, the idea of killing again horrifies me. No matter how evil a person was, I doubt I could coldly execute them. That terrible moment at the lakeside keeps going around in my head, then I think of Papa. If murdering someone evil saves my father’s life, as it did Giovanni’s, I will not hesitate.

With that sorted out in my mind, I can finally relax, close my diary, and go to sleep.

Wednesday, 23 August 1944