Unmasked by Natasha Walker Read Free Book Online Page B

her leg over and gripped him around the waist. His scent overwhelmed her. She had not smelt it since that night and it affected her now. It was a very attractive scent. Suddenly her arms around him felt different. His body against hers was no longer innocent. His flesh was firm, his waist and shoulders rigid, his arms muscular.
    They took off and Emma gripped him tighter. She saw immediately that he had no respect of the road rules. They drove across the traffic, mounting the pavement when necessary, reaching speeds that made Emma stiffen with fear. But as they left the town she felt safer. They were on the main road north. They were keeping to the right and following the rules. The scooter was so noisy, the wind buffeted her and cars kept overtaking them at unimaginable speeds. The countryside around them was flat and ugly. Everything man had touched looked dry and broken, rusted and needing repair. But soon even this changed. They entered forested areas. At one point he turned his head and waved his hand to the right, shouting,‘Club Med. Sometimes I work.’ And they sped on.
    Then they veered off to the right onto a narrow dirt road between rows of trees and they bumped and wobbled their way down an incline. They passed a few run-down buildings and the trees thinned and Emma was surprised to find herself at the edge of cliff staring out over an azure blue sea.
    Marco stopped the bike and left the engine running.
    ‘Beautiful, no?’ He pointed to a cluster of whitewashed buildings to their left. ‘My house.’
    Emma looked with interest. Along most of this part of the coast the forest ran to the sea, thinning as it reached the low cliffs or stretches of beach, but here it had been cleared. The unpaved track they had taken from the highway ran through low shrubs and grass before cutting between the buildings and coming to stop. It was a beautiful but lonely spot.
    Marco had turned and was watching Emma’s expression. As it didn’t change and as she asked no questions, he popped the bike into gear and drove towards his house.
    On approach Emma thought she saw a woman’s face spy them from a window on the bottom floorof the nearest building. Then she heard a dog begin to bark. Marco steered them into the courtyard and waiting for them by the door of one of the buildings was a woman with a small child on her hip. Emma’s heart skipped a beat.
    Marco stopped the bike and, before either he or Emma could move, a torrent of words washed over them.
    The woman spoke too rapidly for Emma to understand, but it was obvious she wasn’t pleased with Marco. Adding to this unpleasant welcome, a small white dog was barking incessantly from behind a closed window, its fluffy face distorted in its fury.
    Marco climbed off the bike, raised his hand and lowered his head. He spoke calmly and softly and the woman was silenced. The baby on her hip stared at both. The dog barked on.
    ‘Who are you?’ asked the woman in Italian, turning her gaze from Marco to Emma for the first time.
    Emma eased herself off the bike and stood behind Marco.
    ‘This my sister, Elena,’ Marco explained to Emma. ‘Angry I leave work.’
    He looked at Elena, spoke a few words and then laughed. Turning back to Emma, he said, ‘I not know your name.’

    ‘Emma.’
    ‘Marco is my younger brother,’ the woman’s tone had softened now. ‘Always in trouble. Never do as he is told. This is Marco, too. My son. My husband Giovanni is at work now. Marco never bring girl here before. I find this interesting. Interesting,’ she added, smiling. ‘He paint, too much. Never time for anything else. No work. No money. No women. Paint, paint, paint. He paint you?’
    ‘No!’ said Marco, who had been straining to follow his sister’s English. ‘I no paint Emma.’
    ‘Why no? She bellissima . Una bella ragazza ,’ said Elena, walking closer. She saw Emma glance at the still barking dog and, as if it was the first time she had noticed the sound, shouted at the