This Is Love

by Nana Malone

  Niccolo accepted keys from the man, who went back in the building, shutting the door.

  “Everything okay?” she asked.

  “Yes. You ready?” he asked.

  “For what?”

  Niccolo pointed behind her. She glanced back and saw a yellow Vespa parked against the wall of the building.

  “We’re going to ride it? Back to the hotel?” she asked.

  “Unless you prefer to walk?” he asked.

  It was cold. Very nippy close to the sea. She preferred the comfort of a car. Still the idea of traveling by Vespa at night excited her.

  “Looks like fun,” she said. She’d never ridden a Vespa before but had always wanted to. They walked over and he unlatched the backseat to pass her a helmet. She fastened it on her head. She winced at the sweaty, musky smell it held. She would definitely have to wash her hair when she returned to the hotel. He got on first. She walked up behind the motorbike and then straddled the backseat.

  “Do I have to wear this helmet? It will mess up my hair.”

  He chuckled. “You sound like my wife...”

  His voice trailed off as if the memory hurt. He shook his head. “Safety first.”

  He turned the key on the Vespa and she wrapped her arms around his torso. He felt firm and muscular in her arms. And she loved the deep, woodsy aroma of his aftershave. He sped off and she yelped. She rested her chin on his shoulder and closed her eyes. She thought he was going too fast. They glided along the narrow streets and around one building and then another.

  After several tense minutes of fright, Aniyah opened her eyes. Niccolo had complete control of the motorbike. She looked around at the tall buildings they passed and the lovers dining in front of little cafés and shops. It was a very personal tour. They traveled off the promenade back up into the village and arrived at the hotel in under ten minutes. The ride had ended too soon. She was tempted to ask if he could go around the area again. The night was perfect for exploring.

  “Here we are,” he said.

  She eased off and removed the helmet. He accepted it as she tried to smooth down her tangled hair. “That was fun. Ah, thank you—I mean, grazie, Niccolo for the jacket.” She shrugged it off and handed it over.

  He stared at her. There was no mistaking the look he gave her. The man was flirting. She started off and glanced back to see him follow.

  “I will walk you to your door.”

  There were many people inside. Some guests were arriving late. Aniyah noticed his aunt, who was busy speaking with a couple had stopped talking to stare. There was a keen look of disapproval on her face. Niccolo didn’t seem to care.

  “It is pretty, that charm on your neck. Pearls?” he asked.

  She touched the necklace she made. “Yes, my mother’s pearls.”

  “What was your mother’s name?” he asked.

  “Annemarie,” she told him as they climbed the stairs.

  “What is your mother’s name?” she asked.

  “Carmella,” he answered.

  “That’s pretty.”

  They entered the hall. He glanced to the room opposite hers. A strange look passed over his face. It was fleeting, but she caught it. When they reached the door, she turned and faced him. She hadn’t expected him to be so close. And he didn’t move out of her space. She liked his height. She thought of him to be taller than most men she’d seen thus far in Italy.

  * * *

  She was a tiny beauty with poufy dark brown curls. Her features, from her small pert nose to her full lips and long-lashed almond-shaped brown eyes, were even more delicate in the dimly lit hall. She stared up at him. Her bold and straightforward talk excited him. Women in his life typically told him what he wanted to hear or smothered him with affection. The only other woman who had offered any challenge was Mya.

  “I guess this is good night,” she said. “Thanks again.”

  She rose on her toes to kiss his cheek, but her gesture was off by a fraction of an inch, bringing her mouth to the corner of his. Niccolo wasn’t sure what came over him, but it happened with lightning-like speed. His face turned and he kissed her. She gasped and went into his arms, opening her mouth fully to him. He brought an arm around her. Lust was rising up so hard and fast he was unable to keep it down. He felt her body heat against him. And the cushion of her perfect breasts crushed to his chest. Her tongue swirled over his and her hand circled his neck.

  What was she doing? She was a married woman! What was he doing? Had he lost his mind?

  When his hand smoothed over her the mound of her butt cheeks, he was lost. He grabbed them both and squeezed hard.

  It must have brought her to her senses. She shoved him off and ran into her room, slamming the door. Stunned, Niccolo stood there with his mouth gaping open. He didn’t know how he’d lost control, but he had. He shook his head and tried to focus again. He couldn’t. His groin felt like it weighed a ton between his legs. He had just kissed a married woman. He’d completely lost his mind.

  * * *

  Aniyah put her hand to her mouth and kept her back to the door. What had she done? Why had she kissed him? And then she’d run from the man? She opened the door to apologize, but he was gone.

  “Jeesh, Aniyah! Are you crazy?” she said and closed the door.

  She could still feel the kiss and his touch. She put her hands to her head. She had to stop being so reckless. The last thing she wanted was romance. She was done with that. She was here for her.

  She walked over to the bed and sat. She slowly smiled. His name was Niccolo. She liked that name.

  Chapter 5

  The celebration was in full swing when she stepped off the step. It wasn’t quite dark yet, but the lights strung up around the pergolas in a weblike design made everything sparkle.

  Aniyah was a coward. All day she had avoided Niccolo. She had stayed in her room sleeping or flipping through television channels. She’d had food brought up and wine, too. And she knew the reason. No matter how charming the night with Niccolo had been, the wounds of her failed love affair wouldn’t allow her to accept it. Besides, she was uncomfortable lying. Making excuses over why Denton wasn’t there only made the pain of his rejection resurface.

  She was a coward, but enough boredom could drive any coward out of hiding. Aniyah stepped out into the gardens. There were far more couples than she had seen yesterday on the tour. Several danced or swayed in their seats to the live band playing an Italian love song. Others stood on the buffet line. There was even a group of couples playing boccie, a game Denton taught her once at a local pub.

  Aniyah sucked in a deep breath and ignored them all.

  * * *

  Niccolo shook the martini and poured it slowly into the frosted glass. He glanced up to tell David to fetch more olives when he saw Aniyah. She had appeared from thin air. All day he’d searched the faces of guests, expecting to see her. She had never emerged from her room. He’d even checked to see if her husband had joined her yet. Maybe he’d come to his senses and locked her away to make love to her over and over again—as Niccolo would have, given the chance. But his staff told him she ordered food to be delivered and left outside her door. He was concerned.

  He shouldn’t have been.

  Aniyah looked more beautiful than she had the night before. She wore a yellow halter summery dress with a red shawl and those sexy red shoes. She was a splash of sunshine in the evening. She glanced in his direction. He averted his gaze. Maybe he had been too forward with her. Either way he didn’t want to scare her away.

  * * *

  It didn’t surprise her to see him. What caught her off guard was how after a day of trying to suppress her attraction to him, the same flutter of excitement she experienced yesterday before he’d kissed her returned to her stomach. What would she say to him? Should she ignor
e him or act casual, like it never happened? Her inner voice warned her it would be best to retreat. But when his eyes connected with hers, she smiled and walked toward him on pure instinct. Why should she deny herself a friend, a conversation with a man, even a kiss when the man she’d thought she loved had walked away?

  “Hi,” she said when she reached the bar and sat on a stool.

  He glanced up. “What can I get for you?”

  “Surprise me,” she said.

  He went about fixing drinks, barely looking her way again. Left alone on the other end of the bar among kissing newlyweds made the brush-off even more awkward. He eventually made her a drink and presented it on a cocktail napkin with barely a smile. And then he stepped away from the bar so the man he’d hired for the job could resume the bartender role. She watched him as she sipped her wine spritzer. It dawned on her why he would turn off the charm and walk away. The man thought she was married. She glanced at the engagement ring on her finger. She’d only worn it to convince everyone of her life. Now it was a glaring stop sign to the man—any man. For the first time since the wedding was called off, she removed her ring. She put it into the pocket inside her little purse and zipped it. And just like that, another weight was lifted from her heart. Why hadn’t she done it sooner? Damn it.

  Her gaze lifted to Niccolo’s once more. He was very charismatic. He stopped at several tables to talk with couples and shake the hands of men who were obviously caught up in the same joyful excitement their wives were.

  “Signora,” a young man said to her left.

  Aniyah looked over and accepted a flyer. There would be several contests tomorrow on Valentine’s Day. Plenty to entertain the tourists. However, Mi Amore had entered to win the most coveted prize. The seaside resort-hotel would try to be named Lovers’ Paradise. The couples would be treated to the most romantic events and each guest would be invited to participate as the resort hosted themed events. The plan was to identify love in all phases, newlyweds, anniversary couples, and couples in the twilight years of their marriage. He wanted to show how love had no bounds. It sounded cute. But it was definitely not something she was interested in. She sighed. She eased off the bar stool with the assistance of the young man.

  “Grazie,” she said with a smile.

  He bowed and gave her a flower.

  “Oh, this is sweet.” She inhaled the fragrance from the pink petals. She glanced in the direction of Niccolo. He was staring. She was the first to turn her gaze away. The band now serenaded the couples. Most were out of their seats in each other’s arms. It was the perfect time to leave.

  * * *

  Niccolo looked up. Aniyah was the loneliest-looking newlywed he’d ever seen. She turned and walked away from the party, headed for the gates to the garden that led to town. The sun had descended and darkness arrived sooner than even he anticipated.

  “How is everything, Niccolo?” his aunt asked from behind him.

  “Can you watch over things? I need to, ah, see to something,” Niccolo said.

  His aunt objected, but he left her to the hosting and hurried after Aniyah. When he walked out of the garden to the street, he had lost sight of her. But Niccolo had an idea where she was headed.

  * * *

  The streets overflowed with excitement. Last night her stroll with Niccolo had been calm and relatively uneventful. Tonight it was as if the floodgates had opened and every person had decided to explore the city at the same time. And soon she knew why. It was the day before Valentine’s Day. Musicians would march in the streets until sunrise.

  “Excuse me, pardon me. Oh, sorry,” she repeated over and over as she pushed her way through the crowd.

  “Headed to the town square?” a man who protectively wrapped his arm around his wife’s shoulders asked. He spoke English with what she thought might be a German accent. They, too, were being pushed and shoved in the crowds.

  “Ah, I guess,” she shouted over the cheering and laughter.

  “Follow us—we know a better way.”

  Aniyah kept her eyes on the couple and followed them out of the narrow, sloping street to another. She was forced to walk on her toes in her heels. Why did she even bother with her best shoes for a walk like this?

  “This way to the promenade. We can circle back. Are you alone?” he asked.

  “I, well, I guess I am...”

  “Good, you can come with us,” his wife chirped merrily. She looked a bit pink in the face. As if she’d started the drinking early. It was clear that her husband wasn’t just protecting her but he was keeping her upright to help her walk.

  “I’m Greco, and this here is Margie. We are from Brussels.”

  “Hi, I’m Aniyah, from Chicago, in the United States,” she said.

  “Nice to meet you, Aniyah. Those are some pretty fancy shoes,” Greco remarked.

  “Yeah. Too fancy.” She grimaced.

  They chuckled.

  “We come to Camogli every year at this time. We’ve been married sixteen years so far.”

  “Oh, that’s sweet. This is the most romantic place in the world. I never knew of this place before...well, I’m glad I came,” she said.

  Greco pointed out some of the best places to eat during her stay. And shared the history of the village. But his accent was heavy when he spoke fast, and she didn’t understand most of it. She just nodded and smiled. Before she realized her destination was so close, she reached it. The center of the village was the heart of the festival. A live band played with a beautiful fountain behind them. People danced and laughed merrily.

  “How about a drink!” Margie slurred.

  Her husband spun her around happily. He didn’t seem to mind that she was inebriated. Aniyah could see how deeply they were in love, even after sixteen years. The couple waved to her to follow, but she gestured that they should go on without her. Drinking was never her thing.

  She then took in the wonderful scene before her. Suddenly she didn’t feel like an outsider. How could she, among so many pleasant, smiling faces? She walked toward the celebration, this time without the care that had surrounded her before. The heel of her shoe got wedged between two cobblestones. Aniyah gasped and struggled to regain her balance. Thankfully a stranger came to her aid. His hand captured her elbow in time to keep her from falling flat on the ground.

  “Careful, cara,” he said.

  She looked over into the smoldering eyes of Niccolo. He smiled and let her go the moment she was able to stand on her own, and when she did she couldn’t help but touch his shoulder in thanks.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked.

  “Same as you, I came for the festival.” He nodded to the celebration. She turned her gaze back to the crowd.

  “But the party at your hotel?” she asked.

  “It goes on until sunrise. Besides, this is my favorite band.”

  She sensed he was lying. He had come after her, and she was glad he had.

  “Those shoes are not made for a walk through Camogli.” He smiled down at her feet.

  “I know. I didn’t plan to come this far. Guess I might need another ride back to the hotel,” she chuckled.

  He slipped his hand into hers. Surprised, she pulled away. He stared into her eyes. He extended his hand again, and this time she accepted it.

  “Come with me,” he said. He walked her over to a shopkeeper and scanned the items on display. He then reached into his pocket and removed a few coins. He gave them to the toothless old man and bought her a pair of thong sandals.

  Aniyah giggled. She removed her shoes and put the new ones on. They were a perfect fit. The shopkeeper gave her a plastic bag to keep her heels in.

  “How did you know this is what I needed most tonight?” she asked with a sense of relief in her voice.

  “Most American women make this mist
ake. That’s why you will see the sandals sold in nearly every store.”

  “A good investment,” she said.

  There was loud applause behind them. Aniyah glanced back. A crowd had circled around an elderly couple dancing in each other’s arms. The old woman spun out and came back into her husband’s embrace. Aniyah laughed and clapped.

  “They are really into it,” she said.

  “Of course. We are celebrating St. Valentine,” he replied.

  “Saint? A real saint, like, biblical?” she asked.

  He glanced down to her. “Valentine’s Day began in Italy—you know this, right?”

  “I read the brochure...but...”

  He chuckled. “You thought it was a lie?”

  She shrugged. “Not a lie, just a gimmick, you know, a hook to reel us Americans in.”

  Niccolo stroked his chin. “Would you like to take another walk with me? I can tell you the history,” he said.

  The people cheered as if to tell her to go for it. Aniyah looked back to see the real reason for the excitement was that the old couple was kissing. It was so sweet.

  Niccolo used his two fingers and whistled loudly. “Bravo!” he said.

  She clapped. After applauding the couple, the smile he had worn began to dim. There was something on his face that looked familiar. She knew disappointment. It didn’t compare to what he must feel being a widower. She couldn’t imagine the pain of living in a place like this after losing someone you loved.

  “Hey.” She touched his arm. “I want to know about St. Valentine.”

  “Where is your husband?” he asked.

  Taken aback, she froze.

  “Why do you no longer wear your wedding ring?” he asked.

  “You noticed?” she asked.

  “I’ve noticed everything about you since you arrived,” he told her.

  “I don’t want to talk about him. Does that make you uncomfortable?” she asked.