by Jules Wake
The silver light of a near-full moon streamed in through the tall windows. She listened hard, but there were too many unfamiliar night sounds. Was that a door, a slight squeak of hinges? She listened hard but heard nothing else.
Maybe he was already back. Would she have heard him through her fitful sleep? Even though he didn’t deserve it, she’d left a light on for him, as if to persuade herself she wasn’t completely alone. A sad indictment. So much for being independent.
Was he still out with the lovely Gisella? He’d probably taken her out for dinner. She bet they’d had a good Italian meal. Her stomach grumbled at the thought. Short-changed by the hideous pizza. She patted it. Tomorrow, she would treat herself to a proper slap-up lunch. Outdoors. She didn’t care how touristy it was.
It was no good. She was now wide awake. And she wasn’t worried about Will. That would be plain crazy and he’d laugh his socks off if he thought she was. She knew exactly what he was like. Gisella looked the type who knew precisely what she was letting herself in for with Will and could cope more than admirably. Only idiots like Lisa made stupid mistakes, caught out by a moment of weakness, when fear of the future and loneliness had persuaded her into giving friendship and sexual chemistry a chance.
With sudden resolve, banishing the wash of emotion that threatened to rise up and swamp her, she swung her legs out of the bed and padded to the door. The hinges squeaked with spooky old-house authenticity as she opened it, and she smiled sadly at the image of her tiptoeing through the moon glow in her white top. There was no one else here, so why the hell was she creeping along?
The light in the hall had stayed on. Will hadn’t come back. In her chest, her heart twisted. Running true to form, but seriously, she pulled herself up short. What else did you expect from Will?
The air in the kitchen almost felt heavy, it was so close and still. Sweat pooled and ran down between her breasts.
She opened the fridge and grabbed herself a bottle of cold water, holding it to her chest, letting the cold condensation cool her skin. Taking a sip, she misjudged the bottle in the dark and missed her mouth, spilling half of the bottle down her front, but the chill of the water was a blessed relief.
Lured by the moonlight, she padded through the shadowy salon and went out onto the balcony. The lights around the house had been switched off for the night. Leaning against the railings, she looked out over the garden, dappled by the silver glow, a black-and-white tableau, making shadows longer, the dark hollows darker and the contrasts secretive. She welcomed the slight cool breeze, which disturbed the heavy, hot air.
‘Waiting for Romeo?’ drawled a familiar voice.
Lisa whipped around to face Will, tucked in the shadow of the balcony, her heart startled into a gallop by his unexpected presence.
‘What the hell!’ her voice squeaked, giving her away. She clapped one hand to her damp chest, where her heart pounded like a sledgehammer, and the other dropped to the hem of her t-shirt, tugging it down, hopefully to cover her dignity. She didn’t dare look down to check, but instead she held his gaze, as if it would prevent him from looking down.
‘Sorry … didn’t mean to frighten you.’ Will rose in one fluid move, with his usual grace. For a tall man, he moved extremely well.
‘What did you mean to do?’ She glared at him, hanging on to the hem of her t-shirt and was pleased to see that he, at least, had the conscience to look apologetic. ‘Do you have to jump out at unsuspecting females? I’d have thought you had enough of them at your beck and call already.’
Will’s chin lifted and, for a second, his face lit by moonlight, she thought she saw some different expression flash in his eyes.
‘I wasn’t expecting you to be flitting about like some gothic heroine in the middle of the night. Your new chambers not up to par?’ His lip curled slightly.
‘They’re fine, thank you.’ She scowled at him, backing up against the railings, bending her knees slightly. He’d obviously come in and seen her original bedroom door open and the room unoccupied. ‘I wasn’t expecting anyone to be out here now. Just got back?’
‘I’ve been back a while. I thought I’d take in the night air. Didn’t mean to startle you. I thought you might have seen me and then when you hadn’t, it was a bit late. The last thing I expected was you wafting about doing your Juliet thing.’ He cast a brief glance towards her chest and a wicked grin lit up his face.
‘I wasn’t wafting about. I’m hot and I couldn’t sleep.’ She sounded grumpy and irritable.
‘It’s Italy. It’s the summer. What did you expect?’
‘I wasn’t complaining. It was an observation.’ She pulled at the hem of her t-shirt again, the damp fabric stretching taut … oh shit, wet t-shirt alert. The bloody fabric had gone completely transparent.
No wonder he was grinning like an idiot. She flushed and turned away to look back at the garden, surreptitiously stretching her t-shirt down. Now she was stuck.
They lapsed into an awkward silence. Why didn’t he leave? Was he doing this deliberately? If she left now, she’d have to do that awkward shuffle to avoid flashing her bottom at him.
If he was any kind of gentleman, he’d have seen her predicament and buggered off, but oh no, not Will. He was milking the situation for maximum embarrassment.
Well, she was going to pretend everything was fine and brazen it out until he left.
‘How was …’
‘Did you …’
Their simultaneous questions hung in the air.
‘You, first,’ said Lisa, turning to look at him over her shoulder. She glanced at the chair. If she sat down and crossed her arms, she might regain a little dignity.
‘How was your day? See everything you wanted to? Was Giovanni a good little tour guide?’
Her mouth tightened as she weighed up her answer. ‘Yes.’ With determined enthusiasm she added, ‘We went to a fabulous restaurant.’ She named it.
Will whistled. ‘Very nice. Michelin star. Giovanni went all out to impress, then.’
‘It was lovely.’ And her nose would surely start growing soon.
‘If you like that premier-dining-experience crap. Personally, when I’m eating I want proper food, not an experience.’
‘The food was exquisite,’ she lied. It had been far too pretentious for her taste. ‘Asian fusion. I’d have thought it was right up your street.’
Will let out a mocking laugh. ‘Anything with “fusion” in it shouts bollocks to me. Why muck about with food traditions that have been long-established? There’s a reason places have regional specialities. Access to fresh, local ingredients, recipes that have been handed down through the generations, yada, yada.’
Lisa pressed her lips firmly together, refusing to admit that she actually agreed with him.
‘How was the lovely Gisella?’ Annoyingly, her voice held a tart, sharp tone.
‘Gisella was fine, thank you very much. Now she was a good tour guide. Really exerted herself on my behalf.’ Will grinned, clearly very pleased with himself and the night’s results.
‘Giovanni took me to an amazing bakery place for breakfast. Not far from here. You should check it out.’
‘Yeah?’ Will cocked his head, as if waiting for more.
She clenched her palms by her sides. ‘The real deal. A family-run place. Popular with the locals, the queue was down the street.’
‘Always a good sign. Near here?’
‘Yes, not far at all. Pasticceria Regoli.’ She was pleased she could remember the name.
Will sat up. ‘I’ve heard of it.’ Of course he had.
‘It’s five minutes’ walk. You should check it out.’
‘I will.’
The awkwardness was back.
‘I ought to go back to bed.’
‘Yes, I don’t want Giovanni coming out looking for you and dragging you, caveman-style, back to bed.’
‘Giovanni?’ She stalled for a minute, realising that Will didn’t know he’d left. ‘I think he’s a little
more civilised than that. He knows how to treat a woman.’ She tilted her chin and looked down her nose at him and then at her translucent t-shirt. ‘Unlike some, he’s a gentleman. Good night, Will.’
With that she marched off, uncaring about the view she gave him.
Chapter 13
Stupid, stupid. Lisa banged her head on the pillows. All very well making big middle-of-the-night statements, but now, with bright morning sunshine burning through the curtains, Giovanni’s absence was going to come back and bite her in the bottom. A bottom she had well and truly flashed at Will last night. And then he’d wonder why she hadn’t immediately disabused him of the idea she was sleeping with Giovanni.
Idiot. Idiot. She. Did. Not. Care. Will could think what he liked. She did not like Will. Will did not like her. End of story.
Hopefully he’d be off with the glamorous Gisella this morning and he’d have already gone, but taking no chances, she slipped on a bra and knickers with the t-shirt.
No such luck.
Will lounged at the kitchen table, his laptop open and a demi-tasse of thick, dark coffee in his other hand.
‘Morning.’
‘Morning.’ Without realising it, she tugged at the hem of her t-shirt, wishing she’d brought some sort of robe with her to Italy.
She gazed longingly at the coffee.
‘Help yourself, there’s another cup in there.’
‘Thanks.’ She busied herself at the stove, pouring the coffee, stiffening when Will asked.
‘Where are you and Giovanni off to today, then?’
Darn it. She’d hoped he might disappear before she had to admit anything.
For a minute she stood with her back to him, feeling like an absolute lemon and then, with sudden bravery, whirled round and caught Will … looking at her legs?
Although now he’d shifted the direction of his gaze back to his laptop, he’d definitely been looking at her legs.
She stared at him, noting that he’d subtly straightened up, as if he’d not been aware of what he was doing before.
‘He’s not here. His grandmother’s ill and he’s gone back to …’ Shit, where was it he’d gone? ‘To the country. She’s had a stroke or something.’ She blurted the words out.
Will chuckled. Yes, he had the bare-faced bloody effrontery to chuckle.
‘So he dashed off to the rescue, leaving you alone in Rome. Not very gentlemanly.’ He emphasised the word and looked down the t-shirt skimming her thighs, bringing a vivid blush to her cheeks. This deliberate perusal, very different from the thoughtful consideration he’d been giving them ten seconds before.
‘His grandmother might be dying.’ Lisa was shocked at Will’s attitude.
‘His grandmother has been dying for at least the last six months. Giovanni gets a call once a month, demanding he returns home because they’re about to call the priest in for last rites.’
‘Really,’ Lisa sat down with a thunk, almost sending her coffee slopping over the side of the cup as she cradled it in her hands.
‘Italian blackmail of the maternal kind. A quick yank of the chain. The family has other plans for him.’
‘That’s very cynical.’ She eyed him over the rim of her cup, inhaling the delicious aroma. Whatever Will’s faults, he certainly knew how to make a good cup of coffee. ‘What if she’s genuinely ill this time?’
Will shrugged. ‘Then she’s cried wolf once too often. But I bet your bottom dollar that Giovanni’s told Mama all about the beautiful blonde who’s come to stay with him in Rome. The English beautiful blonde, who possibly doesn’t fit in with their plans for him.’
‘What do you mean?’ Lisa bristled, crossing her legs under the table.
‘Look around you. This place is pretty palatial. This is the dower house. Who do you think owns the large villa opposite?’
Lisa’s heart did an uncomfortable somersault. ‘I … don’t know.’
‘This place is Giovanni’s apartment. That place is Ma and Pa’s.’
Lisa bit her lip. ‘How do you know?’
‘Gisella told me. Places like this in Rome are few and far between. This much land in the city centre. She was very impressed and quite keen to meet Prince Giovanni.’
Lisa’s eye’s widened. ‘Prince!’
‘They abolished the nobility in 1948, or at least stopped recognising the nobility. Still, I reckon Giovanni could trace his family tree back to at least a Conte and a Contessa. He’s not royalty but pretty well connected. I would imagine Ma and Pa aren’t going to leave the next generation to chance.’
Lisa drew herself up in her seat and threw him a snooty glare. ‘I wasn’t planning on providing the next generation.’ And if they were like that, she didn’t want to know them. She’d had enough of that attitude from Will’s new school friends on the bus once they’d discovered her nan cleaned for his parents. Was that why he’d pulled back from her once before? ‘Giovanni and I are just good friends.’ She winced at the cliché.
‘You keep believing that.’
He moved to pour himself a second cup of coffee and then, ignoring her, began leafing through the thick folder in front of him, humming slightly to himself as he tapped occasionally at his open laptop.
She stole a look across the table at him and then wished she hadn’t. His blonde hair, loose this morning and slightly damp, hung over his face and she could smell the slight woodsy scent of the shower gel she knew he used. It brought back a memory so sharp and acute it almost felled her.
Breakfast together, laughing as he dished up bacon butties, and chasing her around the table trying to get her to take a bite of his, dabbed with his special mustard after she’d admitted she’d never tried the stuff because she didn’t like the colour. Her tentative bite and shocked gasp at the sudden heat on her tongue, eliciting a grin of delighted approval when she’d acknowledged that, actually, it was bloody lovely and snatched the bun from him and finished the lot.
There’d been no awkwardness that morning in the surprisingly spotless kitchen of his flat in the converted outbuilding behind the pub. Waking up, groggy with tiredness, he’d brought her a cup of coffee while she’d sneaked second admiring looks at his broad chest and muscled legs.
She closed her eyes, trying to shut out the images, but her heart pinched painfully in her chest. Any fool would have realised it was easier to promise to call later that day than see the brief interlude for what it was. Hormones and a lapse in her defences.
He never did call and the next time she’d seen him, he treated her with cool distance, making her go over and over the night in her head, examining every nuance to try and work out where she’d got it so wrong.
Swallowing down the lump in her throat, she glanced up at Will, knowing he had one gorgeous body under his clothes. Thank God, despite the absolute temptation, they hadn’t had sex, even though his kisses had turned her inside out and every which way up. With tender strokes of her face, he’d looked into her eyes, suggesting they took it slowly, making sharing the same bed and being held all night seem far more intimate.
‘Earth to Lisa.’
She snapped her head up, a blush suffusing her cheeks. Had he caught her staring at his chest?
She stiffened her spine, rather proud of the fact that ever since that night she’d successfully managed to act as if nothing had happened and pleased she’d never succumbed to asking why he’d never called her.
The prompt arrival of Cordelia on the scene had been a statutory reminder. Charming girls was Will’s speciality and she’d been bamboozled by the sizzling chemistry between them into thinking that this time might be different.
‘What are you up today, without young Giovanni to hold your hand?’
She started guiltily, almost hiding the guide book and photo behind her back.
‘I thought I’d see the Colosseum today.’ And then do some map-reading.
‘What, getting your gladiator fix in?’
She shrugged. ‘Why not? It’s top of my list.’
‘Surprised you didn’t go there yesterday instead of fannying about in some poncey restaurant.’
‘I’ve got plenty of time.’
‘When’s Giovanni coming back?’
‘I don’t know. He said he’d text me.’ Her phone had remained resolutely silent, though.
‘You need to be careful out there. Rome’s unfortunately renowned for its pickpockets and bag-snatchers preying on unwary tourists.’
‘Anyone would think you care,’ she snapped, irritated by his know-it-all attitude and then more irritated with herself because she’d said that phrase to him before. What if he thought it was a Freudian slip? That she wanted him to care. She didn’t. She knew darn well he was incapable of caring about anyone but himself.
‘Just don’t want to have to come to your rescue … oh bugger.’ He glanced down at his phone.
‘Something wrong?’ she asked, pleased that whatever message he’d received had wiped the superior smile from his face and then felt bad about the petty thought. He brought the worst out in her and she didn’t like it. Petty point-scoring. It was mean and not her at all. He had this effect on her.
‘Supplier I was hoping to visit today has bloody well cancelled.’
‘Isn’t the lovely Gisella around to entertain you instead?’ As soon as the words left her mouth, she wished she could take them back.
He stretched, pushing his hair from his face, the movement emphasising the toned chest and broad shoulders. She looked away quickly and picked up her coffee, taking a healthy swig.
‘Alas, she’s working today. I was planning to visit a tasting of aged and flavoured balsamic vinegars. Oh well. They’re running it tomorrow.’ He grinned. ‘Maybe I’ll take in some culture instead. I’ve never been to the Colosseum.’ He shot her a challenging look, which made her mouth go dry. ‘We could call a truce for the day.’
What?
Some crazy part of her brain decided to make itself known and started shouting yes, yes in her head. It had taken her pulse with it, which had careered off at a vein-popping rate.
Trying to reintroduce a touch of sanity, she took a breath, suddenly longing to feel nice again. Be herself and not the horrid sniping virago she turned into around him. It would be much better to have some company. Who knew when Giovanni would return? Several days on her own in a strange city would be quite a long haul. Will was better than no one.
