by Rachel Lyndhurst; Carmen Falcone; Ros Clarke; Annie Seaton; Christine Bell
“All sorted,” she said forcing a carefree tone into her voice. “Don’t worry about staying with me. I’m going to grab something to eat at the market and have a bit of a look around. There’s no appointment time set for tomorrow, so turn up here whenever it suits you.”
Regret settled in her stomach like a brick when he simply nodded at her and handed her the laptop bag, his face expressionless. She watched until the dark swallowed him, and then asked the receptionist if she could arrange to have her luggage sent up. Forcing a jauntiness she didn’t feel into her step, she headed down the hill to the night market. Even though he pushed her buttons, Tom’s sense of responsibility had made things a little easier.
She could get quite comfortable having him around, despite his snarky attitude.
Chapter Six
Tom’s quiet swearing was muffled by the music and noise of the market as he headed back down the hill. He’d be damned if he was going to turn around and check if she was all right. She was not his responsibility.
God, she hadn’t even booked a room, he thought. Talk about irresponsible. He didn’t need any complications in his life. He was here to enjoy himself and not worry about someone who couldn’t organize herself. Well, stop worrying about a grown woman you just met who is quite capable of looking after herself, said the little devil in his thoughts.
“Shit.” He didn’t think she could look after herself. If the conversation he had overheard with her brother was anything to go by, she couldn’t even look after her possessions. And he knew what his real problem was—he found her way too attractive and too fascinating for his own good. When she’d buried her face in those bloody flowers and looked up at him, he’d been tempted to kiss her again. And that was the last thing he needed. Why on earth had he kissed her on the boat?
Spouting Keats and kissing her?
She’d already said she thought he was a right… what did she call him? A right balloon. Well, he’d confirmed it for her now. He hadn’t even thought about it before he’d kissed her. It’d just happened, and he was damned if he was going to lose sleep over a single kiss. In fact, he’d probably lose sleep because he couldn’t get her out of his mind. And not just her problems, either. The warmth of her body lingered on his skin and his heart gave a little jump.
“Nothing wrong with a good time,” said the little voice. “After all, you are here to start your new life.”
He reached the end of the street and turned right. The cathedral was on the left as he remembered, and then he passed the Museo Archeologico before turning back toward the harbor where Carmen’s apartment was located adjacent to the small marina she and Uncle Renzo had inherited from his grandparents.
A wave of nostalgia washed over him as he turned into the street and headed toward the bright blue door of Aunt Carmen’s apartment. He had played in this street as a child with his brothers and sisters when they had visited from Australia. The balcony on the first floor still had the same table and chairs and hanging plants of his childhood memories. His parents and aunt and uncle had sat up there in the early evening and watched them all playing in the street below. He shrugged off thoughts of his new Scottish friend and her problems. Dealing with his reaction to Brianna could wait until tomorrow. He had his own life to sort out first.
The entry to the apartment was at street level overlooking the marina, and the office was next door. The signage to the business was faded, and there was no information about opening hours or services available. Even as he raised his hand to ring the bell, his mind ticked over. True, he knew very little about running a marina, but good business practice carried across, no matter what the enterprise was. He would have to talk to the staff about getting some advertising out there for catching the passing tourist trade.
Before he could press the buzzer, the door opened and he was assailed by the overpowering smell of rose perfume and an excited squeal. He dropped his suitcase and held out his arms as Aunt Carmen reached out and grabbed his cheeks with her soft, plump hands, pulling his head down for an exuberant kiss on both sides of his face.
“Oh, Tomas, look how you have grown!”
He grinned. Of course he had—he hadn’t visited Lipari Island since he was a teenager. It had been years since he’d last seen his aunt, but his childhood memories of spending time with Carmen and Renzo were wonderful. Before his father had taken the professorship in Armidale, his parents had traveled the world, and he had spent several summers on this beautiful island with his family. But it had been fifteen years since his last visit, and now Uncle Renzo had passed on. Tom took his aunt’s arm and stood back. She had aged, and he was pleased he could help out and keep the business in the family.
“It is wonderful to be here, Aunt Carmen. “
“Come in, come in. I have someone I want you to meet.” She chattered on as she led him into the small foyer. Tom picked up his bags and followed her down the narrow hallway.
“Put your bags in my room. You will be sleeping in the pull-out bed in the living room until I leave.”
“Leave?”
“I am going on a trip. You will need somewhere to sleep, so you will have my bed after I leave tomorrow.”
She led him into her bedroom, and Tom closed his eyes as the smell of roses mixed with camphor and mold hit him. Opening them and looking around, his stomach sank. The walls were papered in huge pink roses, and on the east-facing wall a small shrine protruded out into the middle of the room. Tom placed his bags next to the table, which was filled with candles, rosaries, holy cards, and a huge photograph of Uncle Renzo. Incense burned in a small brass receptacle and his stomach moved toward his throat at the mix of the cloying smells.
“You will be able to pray in here as well.” Aunt Carmen beamed at him and pointed to the prayer cushion on the floor.
Tom thought of his minimalist apartment back home overlooking the park in Armidale, with its white walls and lightly polished floors. And he hadn’t been to a church since his mother had dragged him along to his confirmation over twenty years ago.
“Ah, yes. Thank you, but I will be staying with my…er…fiancée.”
Aunt Carmen’s face fell. “Your fiancée?”
“Yes, Brianna and I became engaged on the trip over.” There was no need to tell his aunt they’d only met on the trip over as well. No one needed to know the background of this fake engagement it looked like he had decided to agree to, and he’d sort out something to tell his family when he thought of it.
“If you’re talking to Mama, please don’t mention it yet. We haven’t told anyone.” Tom swallowed. “You’re the first to know, Aunt Carmen.”
“And I’m the second.”
As they walked into the small kitchen, a young woman stood and held her hand out to Tom. Dressed in a low-cut red dress that showed her ample cleavage, she looked him up and down, and he sensed he was found wanting.
“Tomas, this is Helena. She will be your secretary in the office from tomorrow.”
“Oh, good.” Tom took her hand and shook it. “You can show me around and help me get set up.”
“No,” she said, boredom lacing her voice. “It is my first day, too.”
Tom turned to his aunt and she shrugged. “Ah, I thought it would be nice for you to have someone in the office with you…and Helena is my friend’s daughter and she was looking for a job.”
“Oh, I see.” Tom wondered if Helena was one of the women Nick had mentioned on the phone.
Aunt Carmen gestured for him to sit at the table. Despite the smells in the rest of the apartment, the aroma coming from the pots on the stove was mouthwatering.
As his aunt served their meal, Tom tried to converse with Helena, but she had picked up a nail file and was filing her long, red fingernails with disinterest and avoided looking at him. After a few questions to her, which she ignored, he turned to his aunt and caught her up with the family news. It was difficult to focus on the conversation, and he tried to keep his thoughts away from Brianna, but all he could see
was the cross look on her face when he’d left her at the hotel. As well as those legs that went forever, Christ, he was the one who should be cross. Bloody crazy scheme, and now he’d committed to it by telling his aunt he had a fiancée.
“Well, Tomas?” He realized his aunt had asked him a question. “Are you staying here tonight? You have brought your luggage, but not your fiancée?”
“Sorry, Aunt Carmen, I must be a bit jet-lagged. I’ll stay here tonight with you, and then Brianna and I will look for an apartment tomorrow.”
God, this was becoming more complicated by the minute. Why the hell had he promised to help Brianna out?
…
Brianna sat in the warm sun, her back against the whitewashed wall of the small hotel where she’d spent the night. Her booted feet were crossed in front of her and the sun warmed her bare legs. A good night’s sleep had put her in a much better frame of mind. Things were looking up. Tom would translate for her, and until she saw what the deal was with the inheritance, the lawyers would see she had a husband in the making.
She owed Tom an apology for losing her temper and being a smart-mouthed bitch last night. After all, there was really no reason for him to help her out. It wasn’t as if they were even friends. She wondered why he’d agreed.
I’ll hold my temper in and not say a thing, even when he does act like an asshole. She grinned when she remembered how he’d reacted last night and left her standing there. She hadn’t stayed long at the market, just wandered around the cobbled streets wondering whether her mother had ever walked on the same streets at some time in her life.
She sighed. There was so much to find out and so many questions to be answered.
If Tom hadn’t been coming with her this morning, she would have been in a right state by now. But knowing he was coming had eased her mind. She’d slept soundly and was looking forward to sorting out the legal details, and hopefully seeing her mother’s cottage. Maybe they’d even have some pictures and personal effects, something to help her know her mother.
“Not cottage, casetta,” she corrected herself. Time to start learning the language.
It was a moment she’d waited a long time for, and she couldn’t believe how close she’d come to losing it. If she hadn’t made the call from Sydney saying she would be here by the end of the week, she would have missed out and the house would have gone to someone else. So there had to be more family somewhere. A shiver of excitement rippled through her. She’d tried for so long to find out about her mother. She wondered if Rosa had been born here or if she had moved here alone. It wouldn’t be long now and all would be revealed…hopefully.
She sighed. The news about the inheritance had been totally unexpected, and she hadn’t had much time to think about what it was going to mean for her life. There were some big changes coming, of that she was sure.
The crunch of footsteps on the white gravel leading to the hotel entrance caught her attention, and she looked across the brightly colored garden. Tom was striding through the gate, and she pushed herself to her feet as he crossed the small patch of lawn toward her.
“Good morning.” She injected as much enthusiasm as she could into her voice. “Isn’t it the most sparkly day?” Lifting her arm, she shaded her eyes and pointed to the harbor, where teenagers were tacking across the ruffled water in small yachts with madly flapping sails. “Look.”
The morning sunlight reflected off the small waves stirred up by the light breeze as the yachts bounced along. The shrill cries of the young sailors carried across the water and were overlaid by the deep booming of the morning ferry’s horn as it pulled away from the wharf for the trip back to the mainland.
“It certainly is a beautiful morning,” Tom said. Despite agreeing with her, his voice was clipped, and she sensed he was still cross with her. They stood together for a moment watching the boats whiz across the bay before he turned toward the road without speaking again.
“I love the island already.” Brianna followed Tom out through the gate. “Everyone is so friendly. I chatted to at least half a dozen people as I waited,” she said with a smile. “Well, I talked to them anyway. I didn’t understand a word they said, but they were all very friendly.” She held up her guidebook. “I’m learning phrases.”
Tom walked along beside her quietly as they climbed the hill to the main part of the small town, and she tried to keep a conversation going. That was, if one-sided prattle with monosyllabic replies could be called conversation. If he was cross with her, he could go to hell and she would cope. No one was going to spoil the day she found out about her mother. Something would happen. Trust in the universe.
“How is your aunt?”
“Well.” He surprised her with not only an answer, but it was accompanied with a smile. “Aunt Carmen is a smaller version of my mother, but just as vivacious.”
“I love that word,” Brianna said. “Do you know the Italian for it?”
Tom glanced across at her, but she couldn’t read his expression in the shadows of the shaded street.
“Very close to the English. Vivace.”
“Vivace.” The word rolled off her tongue, and she tried to stop her Scottish burr. “I’m picking up the language.” When he didn’t reply, she glanced back at him. “Even though she is vivace, is everything else okay? You looked like the weight of the world was on your shoulders as you came in the gate. Or is it because you are still cross with me?” She needed to clear the air before they got to the lawyer’s office. After all, they were playing the role of an engaged couple in love.
He stopped and answered her with a sort of humph.
“And no, I’m not psychoanalyzing you,” she said. “You have to get over that. I’ve been good at picking up people’s feelings since I was a child, and all my friends used to spill their souls to me. That’s one of the reasons I went into psychology.”
She grabbed his arm and pulled him closer to her.
“I’m not cross at you,” he said.
“Well now, if you’re not cross with me, at least be up-front with me. I can tell there is something bugging you. Have you changed your mind about coming with me? Are you worried about me taking advantage of you? Are you scared you’re going to appear in my book?” She stared up at him. “But for goodness’ sake talk to me. Get it over with and then I can sort something else out.”
God, how on earth would she really cope without any knowledge of Italian? She’d had enough trouble with the secretary on the phone. She’d rushed to get here and she hadn’t even thought to buy a phrase book, and her trusty guidebook only had the most basic phrases in it. Then she saw the funny side of it and giggled…at least she could say hello and good-bye and “where’s the toilet?”
“No, I made a commitment to you,” Tom said and she smothered a smile. They were a fine pair. She couldn’t speak Italian and his language was so formal.
“I’m coming with you, and no, I’m not worried that you will take advantage of me.” He started walking up the hill and looked back at her over his shoulder. “And I hadn’t even given any thought to appearing in your book. I’m certainly not interesting enough to appear in a psychology book.”
But his formal language might come in very handy in the lawyer’s office, she thought.
“I’m thinking about how we’ll handle it. I’m sorry if I don’t indulge in mindless chatter just for the sake of having a conversation.”
The comment wiped away the grin that had been pulling at her mouth, and turned it into a cough.
Mindless chatter, indeed. Well, she could play intellectual, no-conversation games, too.
If only she didn’t find him so damned attractive it would be a lot easier. Every time he stood close to her, she got a whiff of his citrusy aftershave, and a sharp insistent tug of desire shot through her.
“Aunt Carmen had prepared a room for me and wants me to move in, but her place is no bigger than a shoe box. She had to move some furniture to pull out the bed for me last night.” He laughed and rubbed
his back. “My feet hung over the end of the bed all night. As soon as we see your lawyer, I have to get back to the marina. My aunt is leaving for the mainland. I’d like you to come too, as she wants to meet my fiancée.”
Brianna stopped and Tom turned around and looked at her with exasperation.
“Jeez, you told somebody we were engaged?” she said. “It would be best if we keep it as quiet as possible.”
“Yes, but it’s a two-way street. It suits me well to have a fiancée too.”
Relief coursed through Brianna. If he needed her as much as she needed him, there was a better chance of it all working out. She walked around in front of him and stood on her tiptoes. Ever since he’d come through the gate, she’d been watching his mouth when he spoke. Now she gave in to the impulsive urge that had been tugging at her and reached up and kissed him.
“Happy engagement.”
Ignoring the warmth that filled her as she touched his lips, she pulled back and smiled at him before taking his hand. “Come on then, we’ll get my legal stuff over and sorted and then we’ll ask around in town and see if we can find you somewhere to live on the way back to your aunt’s.” She squeezed his hand. “I was so worried you’d changed your mind about coming with me.”
“I don’t go back on my word. You can trust me.”
Brianna wiped her forearm across her forehead. When they stepped into the town square from the cool shade of the buildings in the backstreets, the midmorning sun was beating down. She reached up with one finger and wiped a line of perspiration from Tom’s top lip.
“I thought an Aussie boy would be used to the heat.”
“I live in the highlands. Cold winters and temperate summers.”
She reached into her bag and then dabbed at her face with a tissue. “We’re a fine pair. You know what they say about mad dogs and Englishmen. Make it a Scotswoman!”
