She swung round to face him. The shock of seeing his handsome face, lit so perfectly by the moonlight, angered her even more. He might have lost the woman he loved, but that didn’t excuse him from not telling her the real reason he was in Jersey.
She glowered at him. “Your gelateria?” she said, glad the light was behind her and he couldn’t see the tears in her eyes. “What about my café? What about being honest with me? It’s not as if you didn’t have the opportunity to let me know what you were planning.” She hesitated. “That’s why you’re really here, isn’t it?”
“Please, Sacha,” he said moving closer to her. “I never lied to you and I can explain everything.”
She stepped away from him. “I don’t doubt that you can, but I’m not in the mood to listen.” She clenched her teeth together, trying to calm down. “Not telling someone something is as bad as lying to them.”
“Yes, I know this,” he said quietly. “I didn’t think it was important.”
Stunned, she stepped back. “Not bloody important? How do you figure that out?”
He tried to take her by the shoulders, but she pushed him away.
“No, that is not what I mean,” he said.
“Go on then, what were you going to do? Hope I wouldn’t notice you selling gelato a few doors down from my café?”
“No, I mean that I did not know that my gelateria was on the same boardwalk as your café. I did not think it would matter that I had a business on the island.”
Sacha took a deep breath, aware she’d been shouting and that it was still early. She didn’t want to wake people and alert them to her humiliation. “There is only one boardwalk on this side of the island, Alessandro.”
“I did not know this,” he shook his head. She wanted to believe him. “I promise you,” he added, his eyes filled with sadness.
“How do I know you’re telling the truth?” She began walking, the familiar coolness of the fine damp sand soothing her temper, slightly. “You knew the first day you arrived here, didn’t you? You could have told me then. Why didn’t you?”
He moved to stand in front of her. His broad shoulders slumped and he stared down at the water’s edge. “I did not know how to.”
“So, you let me find out by accident, or rather let my brother be the one to tell me. Do you know how embarrassing that was? He’s already waiting to find fault with you. Jack is extra protective after Giles made a fool out of me. And now you have. Bloody hell, Alessandro. I can’t believe you’ve done this to me.”
“Sacha, please…”
“No, leave me alone. You’ve got nothing to say that I want to hear.”
She turned her back on him and almost ran up the beach, catching the tip of her big toe on one of the granite steps on her way back up to the boardwalk. Wincing, she squeezed her eyes shut for a few seconds to cope with the sick pain shooting through her toe. She tried to step forward to continue on her way home, but her toe was too painful and had already begun bleeding. The stinging brought more tears to her eyes as she hobbled slightly, determined to get into her flat before allowing herself to check how badly she’d hurt herself.
“Sacha, wait,” Alessandro said.
She hadn’t realised he was behind her. “No, don’t.”
He stepped in front of her. “You’re hurt,” he said. “Let me help you.”
Desperate to sit down and deal with her throbbing toe, and aware that she must have cut it quite badly as the sole of her foot was slippery with blood in her flip flop, she acquiesced.
Reaching down, he put his hand under the back of her knee and lifted her leg slightly to get a better look.
“One moment.” He carefully lowered her leg and, standing upright, pulled his T-shirt over his head, bending down again to wrap it around her cut foot.
Sacha groaned.
Alessandro looked up at her. “I am sorry if I hurt you,” he said, mistaking her groan as one of pain.
“No, it’s fine. Don’t worry,” she said.
“You think you can walk?”
“Yes,” she said, stepping forward and grimacing.
Without another word, Alessandro put his arms under her and lifted her.
“Your keys?” he asked, waiting for her to unlock the door.
She fumbled for her front door keys making him clear his throat when she inadvertently touched the outside of his shorts grazing his private parts.
“Sorry,” she said cringing with embarrassment. “Wrong pocket, I meant mine, pocket, that is.” Mortified, she rummaged with her other hand in the pocket on the other side of her shorts, relieved he was strong enough to keep holding her. Anyone would think she was wasting time before he had no choice but to put her down.
“Found them,” she cheered triumphantly, noticing several people on the boardwalk watching her antics. She realised her earlier annoyance had already evaporated. Maybe it was being in his arms, or the sight of his naked chest, but she couldn’t seem to stay angry with him.
He held her closer to the door so she could put the key into the lock and let them in.
“I’m fine now,” she said, shy now that they were alone together. “You can put me down.”
He didn’t look convinced but did as she asked.
Sacha walked forward, slipping slightly on the bloodied tee shirt.
“I will carry you up to your flat,” he said, his tone not inviting any argument from her. Lifting her back into his toned arms, he carried her up the stairs and stopped. “Which room?”
She pointed to the tiny room to the right. “You go and take a seat,” she said, indicating the living room. “I’ll sort this out in the bathroom.”
Leaning over quickly, she closed her bedroom door. She didn’t need him to see that her laundry was doing a good impression of a duvet on her bed. She really must sort out her clothes and get rid of some and put her holiday laundry away, she thought, before a shooting pain in her toe reminded her of what she’d done.
“Let me get some warm water to wash your toe,” he said. “You sit and put your foot up.”
“No, I’ll sort this out in the bathroom. You wait in here. Make yourself a drink if you like, while you’re waiting for me.”
Some anger returned, but he had been very gallant, carrying her back. The least she could do was give him a chance to explain why he hadn’t mentioned anything about coming here to set up a business.
She hopped carefully into her bathroom and sat on the lid of her lavatory. Closing her eyes for a second to brace herself, she unravelled his ruined tee shirt and peeled it back from her blood-soaked foot.
“Eugh,” she shivered, revolted by the painful mess she’d made of her toe. She was going to have to find a larger size of shoe to wear while it healed.
She could hear running water in her tiny kitchen at the back of her flat, and the cupboard doors opening and closing, and wondered whether Alessandro was making them both a cup of tea; she hoped so, she could do with one. A few moments later, he knocked.
“It’s okay,” she said, a little calmer. “You can come in.”
He entered the bathroom, doing a double take when he saw her seahorse taps and, before she could say anything, knelt down in front of her, a bowl of warm water and more kitchen roll in his hands.
“You look very pale,” he said, frowning. “You have had a shock.”
She did feel a little light-headed, but she’d always been squeamish whenever she’d cut her toes. “I never wore shoes when I was smaller, not if I could help it anyway,” she said, remembering her father shouting at her each time she ran along the tarmac driveway, playing ball with Jack. The amount of times she’d cut the tips of her big toes was ridiculous, but like her father said, it never taught her to wear shoes like most people managed to do.
“You like the seahorses,” he said, putting the kitchen roll on the rim of the bath.
“I do. I found one once on holiday in Spain when I was little and I’ve never forgotten it. It was very beautiful, but alien-like.”
“You don’t mind if I wash your foot?” Relieved not to have to look at the damage, she shook her head. “Good. Then I can put this around it,” he said, holding up a bandage that she’d forgotten she had.
“Yes,” she said, feeling a little mean now for being so angry with him. “Thank you, Alessandro. You’re being very kind. I’m not so sure I’d be as charitable if I’d just had a row with someone.”
He took her foot and, dipping the kitchen roll into the warm water, squeezed out the excess liquid and began cleaning her toe. “I believe you would, Sacha.”
He was so careful that she didn’t notice it throbbing any more. Then again, she was watching him, and admiring his sexy back. She wanted to run her fingers through his black hair, and push his fringe back from his face as he concentrated on cleaning her foot. She reached out, and realising in time what she was about to do, closed her eyes and tried to gather herself.
Oblivious to what she was doing, he took the plastic wrapper off the bandage and, placing a dressing that he must have also found in her rarely used first aid kit, he deftly dressed her cleaned foot.
“It is done,” he said, slowly lowering her foot and gazing up at her.
She couldn’t force her eyes away from his. Her heart pounding so loudly she was sure he could hear it. She opened her mouth to say something, when Alessandro rose slightly and, putting his hand behind her neck, brought his mouth up to hers and kissed her.
The sensation of his firm lips on hers dispersed any remaining anger she had towards him like bubbles in a champagne glass. She dropped his T-shirt on the floor and wrapped her arms around his neck and responded to him with all the pent-up emotion she’d been holding back. He put his other arm around her back and pulled her against his chest. Sacha lowered one hand down over his arm, desperate to feel the contours of his muscles.
“Er, what the hell?” Jack shouted, shocking Sacha and Alessandro so they broke away from each other.
Alessandro sat back on his haunches. “I was—”
“I could see what you were doing, mate, but what I want to know is, why is my sister bleeding?”
Irritated with her brother for barging into her flat and interrupting their kiss, she glared at him. “I cut my toe and Alessandro was helping me.”
Jack glowered at Alessandro as he stood up. “Yeah, right.”
She could see Alessandro was as put out as her with Jack, but unlike Sacha he was trying to hide his feelings. “You have, er, house shoes?”
She tried to work out what he meant and then it dawned on her. “Slippers? Yes, I do, but they’re enclosed, so I think I’ll just put on some flip flops for now. I’ll get them and you can put on the kettle if you like.”
“I could do with a tea,” Jack said, walking the three steps to the living room. “Or a beer, if you have one. I was just coming back from mate’s house when I spotted your lights were on.”
She knew he was only playing for time and wanted to know what was going on between her and Alessandro.
“Yes, well too bad,” Sacha said. She waited for Alessandro to go to the kitchen to make the drinks. “Listen, Jack,” she said, lowering her voice and hoping Alessandro couldn’t hear. “Alessandro and I have things to discuss. So, unless you came here to tell me something in particular, I suggest you bugger off back to Bella’s cottage and get some sleep.”
“I don’t understand how he got to be half-naked if all he was doing was fixing your toe?”
She told him about Alessandro using his T-shirt as a make-shift bandage.
Jack seemed a little happier to know this and ruffled her hair. “You’re so grumpy, sometimes.”
“Go, Jack. I’ll see you later.”
She watched him go and listened for the front door to close behind him. Then, slipping her bound foot carefully into a different pair of flip flops, she returned to the living room. She opened the French doors onto the balcony and breathed in the early morning air. It was going to be a scorcher today, she thought, a little soothed by the realisation.
Alessandro brought in two mugs of tea and placed them on the coffee table and Sacha sat down on the chair opposite the two-seater sofa and waited for him to speak.
He stared at her thoughtfully for a moment. “I am sorry for what has happened.”
She cleared her throat. “You must know this changes everything between us? I mean, about the gelateria, not before.”
“When we kissed,” he said quietly.
“Yes, well.” She took a deep breath to focus on what she was trying to say. “Look, do you want me to find you something to put on?” She didn’t really want him to cover up his torso, but it was rather distracting having him in front of her looking like the hero in a romantic film.
“No, it is warm. I am fine, thank you.”
“Right, um... I thought we were friends and I can’t understand why you didn’t tell me about your business plans.” Unintentionally, she added, “You kissed me, knowing you were going to go behind my back?”
He looked at his hands, holding the mug of steaming tea. “I did not know that you ran the café when I kissed you.” He hesitated. “The first time I kissed you. When I came to your café the other day and saw how close it is to the gelateria, I was shocked.”
“So, why didn’t you say something?”
“My father, he has wanted to open a business here for many years.”
She took a tentative sip of her drink. She wasn’t going to say anything in case it stopped him from speaking, but looked at him silently.
“I never thought to tell you about my family’s businesses in Italy,” he said. “When we met in Rome, I was coming here to see this island for him and maybe look at a few properties on his behalf with his contact, but this wasn’t planned. For once, my father has worked quickly. It only took three weeks to sort out the paperwork before I arrived to set everything up. Until I discovered what you did for a living, I thought I would be coming here to start this business while being able to spend time with a woman I liked, very much.”
She shrugged. “I did think you seemed to know a lot about gelato, but I thought you just liked the stuff.”
He cleared his throat and put his mug back down on the table. “Usually, my father takes a long time to make big decisions, but he contacted me the day after we had spoken and told me he had been in contact with an old colleague from the sixties who still lived here. His friend told him about a small vacant shop and said he thought it would be perfect for a small gelateria, the kind my father has set up in several towns at home.”
She thought about Mrs Le Breton’s shop lying empty for several months, too small to be any use to most businesses, and how she’d dreaded it being taken over and turned into a sandwich bar.
Alessandro carried on explaining. “His friend emailed the shop details and draft lease over to my father. He agreed to be my father’s representative and set everything up for him. He wanted me to come to the island and take charge of the work, even though he knew I couldn’t run the business for him.”
“Because you don’t have a licence to work here?” she asked, aware how difficult it was for people to be given permission to work on the island if they hadn’t been living on the island for five years.
“And because I love my work as an archaeologist. I’ve studied this for many years and even though my father’s dream is running his gelaterias, and one day I might take over from him, for now this is what I enjoy doing.” Alessandro shook his head and leant forward, his hands clasped. “I came here to do this for my father, but I never dreamed that in doing this I would be hurting you.”
“But how did you get permission, and so quickly?”
“My father’s friend, Franco, he has power of attorney for my father. He will look after the financial side of the business. I must find and employ a manager to look after the day-to-day running of the gelateria. I can help, but not be employed by the business or earn money doing it. Once everything is in place, I will return to my own work.”<
br />
“You couldn’t say no,” she said, recalling how difficult she’d found it to argue with her own father when he’d insisted that she take over the café and branch out on an entirely new career.
“No. My father knows I would not have agreed to this if he’d been feeling better. I am aware he used being unwell to persuade me to do this for him.” He gave a hint of a smile. “And I didn’t mind, because I hoped to see you. He told me that having an outlet on the island has been a dream of his,” he shrugged. “That someone ruined his chances in the sixties when he’d been about to set up his first business. His heart had been broken back then and so he returned to Italy to move on with his life. It’s the least I can do for him to help banish those ghosts in his past.” He frowned. “I am sorry.”
Her toe was throbbing painfully now and so was her head, but how could she be angry with someone who was helping a sick parent?
“I don’t suppose there’s any way you can change the use of the place to, say, a takeaway for Italian food?” she asked, only half joking.
“No, his business is in gelato and it is what he knows. Good gelato is what he has promoted all his working life. It is not ideal.”
She laughed, exhausted by everything that was happening. “You’re not kidding.” Sacha tried to get comfortable in her chair and yawned.
“You are tired,” Alessandro said, standing up to leave. He checked his watch. “You must try and sleep for one or two hours. I can speak to your brother when I return to Bella’s cottage and ask him to open your café today, if you like? Then you could keep your feet up for the day and rest.”
She yawned again. The thought did appeal to her. She wrote down her mobile number on a piece of notepaper. “Here, take this, and if Jack has other plans please ask him to call me, or send me a text and I’ll go downstairs and help Lucy until Milo arrives.”
“I can help, if you wish?” he said. “I must meet with shopfitters later this morning, but I can come back afterwards.”
“What?” she said, standing up. “Let the competition in on my business secrets?” She thought of the sundaes she’d made in front of him. “Not a chance.”
The Boardwalk by the Sea Page 11
