by Rachel Lyndhurst; Carmen Falcone; Ros Clarke; Annie Seaton; Christine Bell
“Rang to give you a heads-up, mate.”
“Heads-up?”
“Mama and Aunt Carmen. They’ve been matchmaking. Looks like a bevy of hot Italian beauties may be lined up waiting for you at Aunt Carmen’s apartment.”
“Oh fuck no. Please tell me you’re kidding.”
“Well, there’s at least one coming for dinner the night you arrive. Some friend of the family. I got that much out of Mama after you left. Now that one of us is married, they’re determined to set you up next.”
“Thanks for the warning, appreciate it.”
Tom groaned and finished the call. Nick’s warning was welcome, and he’d have to have a quiet word with his aunt. He was here to work…and then he smiled as he remembered the list he’d written on the flight. There would be time for some fun, but on his terms, not anyone else’s.
A blaring horn interrupted his thoughts and he grabbed for the door as the taxi driver wrenched the wheel to avoid yet another collision. One thing he would never get used to in Naples was the traffic. He closed his eyes and prayed he’d stay alive long enough to get to the ferry, as the taxi driver continued through the heavy traffic, beeping his way to their destination.
…
The phone line was filled with static and Brianna ran her free hand through her hair in frustration, before picking up the phrase book once more. It had taken the secretary from the Liparian law firm, Antoniolli and Bruni, two days to return her call. Luckily Phil had managed to get her rucksack back from the taxi company and she’d transferred their phone number to her laptop. At the rate she was spending money on phone calls, she’d have no money left to stay on Lipari for long.
Let alone pay someone to be her fiancé.
She had called the law firm twice yesterday, only to be told Signore Antoniolli was out and would call as soon as he returned. Anyway, that was what she thought the secretary was telling her. The language barrier on the phone was problematic. It was fine when you were face-to-face with someone. A nod and a smile and a phrase book had eased her way through the city these last couple of days.
Now, thanks to the dense secretary at Antoniolli and Bruni, she was running late for checkout. Tom would be waiting in a taxi and the silly woman on the other end wouldn’t even try to understand. Brianna was using the phrase book in an attempt to communicate with the woman.
“Il mio nome è Brianna. Signorina Brianna, not Signore Brian. Look, I’ll be there tomorrow.” She scrabbled through the pages. “Domani, okay?”
The woman finally seemed to understand, and Brianna terminated the connection and headed for the elevator. Thank goodness she’d packed early and sent her bags down. Striding across to the checkout, she scanned the foyer for Tom and breathed a sigh of relief when he wasn’t waiting.
At least she wasn’t late. One thing had gone her way this morning, and her checkout followed without a problem. Moving across to the glassed entrance, she waited and tried not to worry about the conversation with the secretary. She doubted if the woman had understood her, and she was going to have to turn up on spec tomorrow. Surely someone there would be able to translate. She’d have to wait and see.
A white taxi sped into the drop-off area at the front of the hotel and screeched to a halt. Tom leaned across and spoke to the driver before he opened the door and stepped out.
A warm feeling shot through her when he walked across the foyer toward her. Faded jeans clung to powerful thighs that the suit pants hadn’t done any justice to at all, and a loose T-shirt proclaimed, “Real Men Wear Jeans.”
Brianna stood on her toes and greeted him with a kiss on his smooth, clean-shaven cheek, and inhaled expensive cologne. “Mmm, yummy…been shopping?”
He smiled down at her, looking relaxed and more carefree than the formal man she had shared the flight with. He gestured down to his clothes. “These old rags? Nah. Had ’em forever.”
“No, I meant the Silvestre I know my colognes.”
“Well, I did fit in time for some shopping between sightseeing.” He stepped back and looked at her. “It’s a beautiful city. How about you? Did you get some sightseeing in?”
Brianna returned his steady gaze. His hair was mussed and his eyes were bright.
Much happier than the stranger on the plane. She’d had glimpses of this man as they had shared stories and was pleased to see how happy and relaxed he appeared.
“No. I stayed around here. Caught up on some work and tried to sort some business stuff out. With no luck, I’m afraid.” She reached over and held his wrist up and looked down at his watch. “Come on, I’ll tell you all about it on the ferry. We’re running out of time.”
Tom raised his eyebrows at her and grinned. “That’s my line.”
When the taxi dropped them off at the ferry terminal, she watched thoughtfully as Tom conversed with the driver in fluent Italian when he paid the fare. His snug jeans hugged his rear. He was in pretty good shape for someone who sat behind a desk all day.
Pull back. Italy might be the place for romance, but she needed him to pretend to be her fiancé first.
Forget the romance. You don’t need it, girl.
…
The large interisland ferry departed late from the busy marina, and when they were finally under way, Tom stood beside her on the deck as Naples disappeared into the distance. It was a five-hour trip, and they would dock about eight in the evening. Brianna planned to find a hotel room when they got there. In her usual “trust in the gods” fashion, she hadn’t booked, but she wasn’t going to let that slip. Tom was going straight to his aunt’s apartment. “I’ll spend a couple of days there with her and then find myself an apartment.”
They stood together and watched the Italian shoreline disappear in the haze. The smell of diesel and the cool spray forced them into the saloon of the ferry with the rest of the passengers. All of the seats were taken, and they stood along the wall of the large cabin, occasionally grabbing the safety bar around the wall as the ferry plowed through the rough swell.
“Drink?” Tom asked.
“Yes, please. I packed some snacks because I read there’s not much food available on the ferry, but there is a bar.”
Tom rejoined her with a bottle of red wine and a couple of plastic cups. They moved through to the smaller lounge area where there was a vacant table and settled comfortably. Brianna delved into a plastic bag and spread some cheese and crackers on a plastic plate.
“Miss Organized,” Tom said with a smile.
“See, some of your organizing must have rubbed off on me because I’m usually pretty hopeless at thinking ahead. Don’t get too used to it.” She smiled apologetically. “The next couple of days are going to be a testament to that.” Even though she’d been cross at him and his reaction—or more his lack of reaction when she’d proposed to him—she was grateful he hadn’t mentioned her crazy proposal yet. “Can I tell you a story?”
“Certainly.” Although he agreed, two small frown lines appeared between his eyebrows and she hastened to explain.
“I’ve got an appointment to see a lawyer tomorrow in Lipari to sort out some personal business.” They both reached for their glasses at the same moment and their hands brushed. She smiled at him as the nerve endings tingled in her fingertips. “You know how I told you I come from a big family?”
He nodded again and held her gaze.
“Well, I’m adopted, and I lived in Scotland with my adoptive family for most of my life. I tried to find my birth parents in my late teens, and Dad was understanding, but I think it bothered Mum a bit. She’s been pretty upset with me about a few things.”
“And did you find them?”
“Not then, and I got over it for a while. I went off to university and started my career and worked for a few years in England before going back home to Edinburgh to finish my master’s degree. Then I did my clinical training and started work.”
Tom looked at her intently. “How old are you? You don’t look old enough to have done all that.”
“Thirty-one. I was always the odd one out with my olive skin and dark hair in a family of freckled redheads. Now I know it’s my Italian background.”
“You’ve found your family, then? That’s why you’re going to Lipari?” He spoke slowly. “Has that got anything to do with wanting to marry me?”
Brianna laughed. “Oh, Tom. I don’t want to marry you. I don’t want to marry anybody…ever. But I have to, or at least I need a fiancé.”
Before he could answer, she rushed on, trying to speak clearly. She knew her accent made her difficult to understand when she got emotional.
And she was not going to get emotional.
“I’d only just arrived in Sydney when I got a letter from an Italian law firm. It’s chased me around the world. Scotland to England, and then it got faxed it to me at the hotel in Sydney. It said my birth mother was recently deceased and I’m the beneficiary of her cottage in Lipari, but I have to claim it by the end of the month, a couple of days from now.”
“You’ve certainly cut it close.”
“That’s why I had to cancel all my plans and fly over straightaway. I have until this Friday to claim the cottage. There are some conditions attached to the inheritance.”
“What sort of conditions?”
“That’s another favor I want to ask you. I can’t get through to them at the law office. I’ve had five different conversations with them, twice in Sydney and three times from Naples.” She looked up at him, hoping fervently he would be happy to help her out. “How would you feel about coming with me and translating for me at the lawyer’s tomorrow morning? You do speak the language like a native.”
A shaft of red sunlight hit the wall behind him and she jumped up and grabbed his hand. “Come on. The sun’s setting over the Tyrrhenian Sea. We can’t miss that.”
He gathered up the cups and leftover food, put them back into the plastic bag she’d left on the seat, and then followed her out to the deck. The breeze was cool and they stood close together as the sun dropped low in the sky. One by one, the other passengers gave in to the cold breeze and headed back into the warmth of the saloon. Brianna shivered and rubbed her arms.
“I didn’t think to pack a coat. Summer in the Mediterranean, I thought it would be warmer.”
“It’s always cooler out on the water.” Tom removed his jacket and placed it around her shoulders. Her skin absorbed the lingering warmth. His fingers brushed her throat as he pulled it around her and she shivered again. But not from the cold, she thought.
“Happy to stay out here till sunset? It’s not far off now,” he said. He stood behind her and put his arms loosely around her, grasping the rail in front of them. She appreciated the warmth of his body blocking the chilly breeze blowing across the deck. They watched as the bloodred rays of the setting sun tinged the clouds with shades of color ranging from the palest pink to silver. The last sliver of the orb dropped behind the water to the west, and the wind dropped almost immediately.
“Would all their colors from the sunset take, from something of material sublime, rather than shadow our own soul’s day-time in the dark void of night,” Tom murmured.
“John Keats? You are full of surprises, Mr. Bursar.” Brianna looked back at him and the wind caught her loose strands of hair and blew it into his face.
“Sorry.” She turned around, reached up, and removed the hair stuck to his cheek, and was surprised by an intent look on his face before he dipped his head and caught her lips with the soft warmth of his. It caught her by surprise, and she stood stiff in his arms, not sure how to respond. By the time she’d come to terms with it, he’d pulled back.
“You looked sad, Bri,” he said with a smile. “And I couldn’t resist trying to cheer you up. And, yes, I’ll help you out. I’ll come along to the lawyer and translate. Now, come back inside where it’s warmer and you can tell me more about this visit to the lawyer’s office and what you need me to find out.” Tom held out his arm and waited for her to take it. “Oh, and perhaps while we’re talking, maybe you can tell me if this has anything to do with your crazy proposal on the plane.”
Brianna took his arm and looked up into serious blue eyes. She had a feeling she’d been set up. Sucked in by poetry and a kiss.
The last hour of the trip was rough, and Brianna’s stomach roiled as the ferry plowed through the waves. A number of times she’d thought she would have to run for the bathroom, but fought it back. And it wasn’t because of the conversation they’d just had. She blamed the cheese, wine, and rough seas.
When she had come clean and told him why she needed a fake fiancé, he’d sat back without speaking for a few minutes and looked at her with narrowed eyes.
“For how long?”
“I don’t know any more until I see the lawyer, and that’s why I need you to translate so I get all the facts right.”
“So, let me get this straight.” His eyes were fixed on her face. “You need someone to pretend to be your fiancé so you can inherit your real mother’s house, but you don’t know anything more than that?”
She gulped and nodded. He was looking at her as though she were a wayward child.
Leaning forward, he nodded at her and a strange smile tilted his lips. “I think I can accommodate you. It might suit me fine to turn up with a fiancée on my arm.”
Much to Brianna’s amazement, he seemed to be considering her proposal. She still couldn’t believe it. If it wasn’t for the look on his face, she might have said he felt sorry for her. She looked up into his closed face as he ran his hair through his short, dark hair. There was no pity there.
“So you thought you’d call in to the local employment agency and hire an actor?” He shook his head, obviously unable to believe anyone could be so stupid.
“No, I didn’t. There’s no need to be rude,” she snapped as her temper began to build. “It’s my problem and I would have thought of something. You don’t have to do it, Tom.”
“Something?” He laughed. “Anyway, I keep my word. I’ve agreed to help you out and I will. I don’t want any surprises when we get there. I want the complete truth.”
“There’s no more to tell. I apparently need a husband before I can inherit the cottage, and the why remains a mystery. That’s what I’ll—we’ll—be finding out tomorrow.”
Diesel fumes filled the saloon and Tom got up and closed the door to the deck. They sat without speaking as the ferry pounded through the heavy seas around the Aeolian Islands, before turning into a quiet harbor. The waves calmed and she began to feel better as the ferry glided across the still water. The moonlight shone on the rainbow slick of the oily water as the ferry berthed at the marina on Lipari Island.
They presented their tickets and collected their bags from the luggage bay and disembarked. Brianna was grateful for Tom’s hand underneath her elbow as they walked down the slippery ramp to the boardwalk, dragging their suitcases behind them. Despite his arrogance, he could be polite and thoughtful.
When it suited him.
He slung both their laptop bags across his shoulders so Brianna could hold the railing with her other hand. As soon as they stepped onto the boardwalk, her stomach settled and her mood improved.
Things would work out. Something would happen. It always had for her.
The narrow ramp led across to a cobblestoned corso covered with stalls, and a night market festooned with fairy lights was in full swing. She looked up in delight at bunches of wildflowers hanging in garlands around the first two stalls.
“Oh, look at those gorgeous colors!” Leaning her suitcase against a stone wall, she scrabbled in her money belt and instructed Tom to mind her bag. She made her purchase and walked back over to him, holding the sweet-smelling flowers up to her face. “Come on, let’s explore,” she said excitedly.
He shook his head with a frown.
“We’ll take your bag to your hotel first so you don’t have to cart your luggage around. Where are you staying?”
She swallowed and looked up
at him. “Don’t know yet. Wherever I can find a hotel room, I suppose.”
“You mean you haven’t booked anywhere?” The exasperation was clear on his face and she glared at him.
Who did he think he was?
“Chill out, it’s not your worry. After I’ve looked at the market, I’ll go and find something. Don’t be such a stuffed shirt. I’m in Italy and I plan to enjoy every second, no matter what happens.”
“Brianna,” he said in a condescending tone. “There are times to be responsible, and then you can have fun. You’ll enjoy yourself even more.”
“Who says?” She put her hands on her hips and stood nose-to-nose with him. Or at least she attempted to. It was more nose-to-chest. She was tall and he still towered over her.
“I say,” he said firmly. “Now, come on, we’ll find you a hotel.”
“But…” She stumbled over her words and tried to think of a suitable retort, but he took her arm and marched her up the hill away from the tempting market stalls. A small brightly lit hotel was situated at the top overlooking the wharf and he ushered her through the doorway.
“You book in. Then we can get something to eat, and then I’ll find my aunt’s apartment.” He gave her a tight smile. “That way I’ll know where to find you so I can accompany you to your appointment tomorrow.”
She glared at him without replying.
Accompany me to my appointment. Jesus, how about you come with me.
“That’s if you’re still talking to me and want me to translate for you,” he said as a grin crossed his face. “Oh, and if you still need that fiancé.”
She gritted her teeth and made her way to the counter to ask if there was a room. If she wanted him to help her, she was going to have to put up with him taking charge, and that did not sit well with her.
When the young girl at reception told her she was lucky to get the last room because it was festival time on the island, she nodded and filled in the registration form, determined not to let Tom know he was right. Being independent had never failed her before, and she was certainly not going to start relying on someone now to get her organized. And she hadn’t expected, or appreciated, the warm fuzzy feeling that had filled her chest when he’d shortened her name. Putting the key in her pocket, she walked across to him, leaving her bags at the reception counter.
