by Robena Grant
Then she had to do a little skip step to catch up to Susan. For someone who’d just gotten off an international flight and been driven the half hour in heavy traffic from Pisa, Susan had great energy. She strode down the Via Grande dragging her suitcase like she’d had ten hours of solid sleep. Dia liked that. On the short drive from the airport they’d realized they had a ton in common. But funny how, until the last moment, she’d not revealed the fact that she and Nico had been conversing.
“Wait up.” Dia grabbed the sleeve of Susan’s light cardigan. She wore soft beige pants, and a pale blue top covered by a gauzy cardigan. Her red hair curled down onto her shoulders. She looked light and lively.
Nico was in for a very nice surprise.
“We have to cross here,” Dia said.
The light changed, and they moved forward with a small group of pedestrians. On the other side of the street, she helped Susan to right her suitcase, then got her own balanced. She looked up. Standing as regally as the old duke himself was a dark-haired man. It had to be Nico Ventimiglia. She’d guessed right; he’d arrived over an hour early.
He peeled off a pair of wraparound sunglasses and walked toward them, features set in a smile, arms wide spread for an embrace. His dark eyes sparkled over her and then settled on Susan.
Dia had the sinking feeling that her newfound friend would be otherwise occupied for the entire journey. Nico kissed them both on each cheek. Then he enveloped Susan and kissed her again.
“Welcome to Italia,” he said. “You look exactly like your picture. I would know you anywhere.”
They had exchanged photographs? Or did Susan have a Facebook page?
“Frank?” He turned to look over his shoulder. “Frank is good, yes? And your mama, Rosetta. She is well?”
“Yes, they’re both fine,” Dia said. “Thanks, Nico.”
Susan’s face was pink and glowing, her smile as wide as Nico’s. They linked arms; he grabbed her suitcase.
“It isn’t far to walk,” he said. “I have a berth very close.”
Dia fell in behind them dragging her own suitcase. She was definitely a fifth wheel. It wasn’t fair. She was happy for Susan, happy she and Nico liked each other, but she missed Carlo. Badly.
****
Dia and Susan stood side by side, their mouths open. The marina was full of boats of every shape and size.
“You mean…that’s it?” Dia took off her sunglasses and pointed them at a huge yacht. “The one with big poles for sails?”
Nico laughed.
“It’s so…”
“Grande?” Nico asked.
Dia shook her head slowly. She hadn’t thought of the yacht as being with sails but had imagined something big with motors. Kind of like the photographs she’d seen of George Clooney getting onto one somewhere in the South of France.
Were yachts with sails as safe? They seemed lower, sleeker, and so much closer to the waves.
“I adore it,” Susan said. “It’s so exciting. The Mirabella is just like in the photographs.”
Dia cast Susan another skeptical glance. More damn photographs? Susan didn’t even notice the glare, because she’d started toward the yacht. Susan obviously knew way more about this trip than she did. Dia became aware that she shouldn’t have jumped at the offer to travel by sea. She could have flown to Corsica.
Hell, she’d become a risk taker. Risk taker? More like a nut case.
She eyed the yacht. Its sleek white body set against the brilliant blue of the water, and the heat of the sun, was too much. She slipped on her sunglasses.
How did one man like Nico manage to sail this huge, gorgeous monstrosity? Her neck tightened in fear. Would she be a good sailor? Would they have to help do things with sails? She didn’t know much about boats except to get the hell out of the way when sails were being lowered. She could be hit and washed out to sea. She’d never see Carlo again. She swallowed hard and dragged her suitcase, not sure if she wanted to catch up with the gaily chattering pair up ahead of her.
“It’s awesome.” Susan stopped alongside the boat. “So new and shiny and…should we take our shoes off?”
“Don’t worry.” Nico leaped on board carrying Susan’s luggage. “Come on.”
“Permission to come aboard, Captain.” Susan gave a swift salute, before slipping off her shoes and following him.
“Permission granted, my beautiful Americano princess.” Nico laughed, and came back for Dia’s luggage. “Let me take this.”
Dia nodded. “Thanks.”
Susan explored the deck, shoes dangling from her fingertips. Dia slipped off her shoes, not sure if it was boat protocol that Susan had taken the time to learn. For now, she’d stick close and follow in the footsteps of her new friend.
“What kind of yacht is it?” Susan asked.
“It’s a one hundred and thirty-six foot—”
“Wow! That’s big. And it’s a racing yacht?” Susan clasped her hands like a little kid. In fact she looked like Angie.
Dia glanced from Susan to Nico. A hundred and thirty-six freakin’ feet? Racing? On the water? She didn’t even like to race on firm ground. Her head started to pound. How fast could the thing go?
“Si,” Nico said proudly. “She’s a schooner, built in ’07. She performs really well under all conditions.”
“Why does she have two sails…um…masts?” Susan asked.
“Excellent question.” Nico gave Susan an admiring glance. “That gives us more control, better racing performance than one sail.”
“Has she won any races?”
“I have only acquired her one year. Si, one regatta.”
Dia cleared her throat. “And um…does she have an engine?”
Nico laughed. He walked over and threw his arm around her shoulders. “Come, Dia. Don’t be scared, my princess. You haven’t moved an inch since you came aboard.”
Dia glanced around. “True.”
“It’s so…elegant, so decadent.” Susan joined them.
“We have engine, satellite and radio control, computerized winches for taking care of sails, and there are two cockpits. One for steering, trimming sails…all computerized. There’s a full galley with dishwasher, and washing machine.” Nico waved his sun-bronzed and muscular arms with love and enthusiasm. “She is as beautiful below deck as she is above. There is a library with a computer, a lounge with flat screen television.”
“A library?” Dia frowned.
“Si. And you have each your own cabin and bath―”
“We have cabins?” Susan asked.
“Of course.”
“But how long…I mean, will we sleep here?” Dia’s heart skipped a beat. At sea, in a sailing yacht, in the dark? Holy crap. “I thought we’d get to Bastia in six or seven hours. The ferry takes four, and—”
“We will be there around six pm. I thought a nice rest, a shower after your travels. A bikini for sunbathing on deck.” Nico stopped and looked at Susan. “Are you tired?”
“Oh, no. Not me.” Susan shook her head. “A shower to freshen up and I’ll be good to go.”
Nico turned at the sound of a whistle. “Ah, my crew. Welcome back.”
Two gorgeous young men jumped aboard followed by a weather-beaten scowling man with a gray beard. They each carried bags filled with what looked like groceries.
“Ladies, allow me to introduce you. Dia and Susan, this is Jacques, my first mate.” He nodded to the bearded man. “He’s from Monte Carlo. But he lives now on Corsica. Smart man.”
Jacque bobbed his head in response to their hello. Dia had the distinct feeling he was not only a man of few words, but also a man who had spent his life on the water. She felt oddly safe knowing he would take the journey with them. Yet she didn’t know him at all.
“You’ll hardly see him. Right, Jacques? He stays busy in the cockpit, along with Paolo.” He gestured to one of the younger men.
Paolo put down the bag that held yummy looking loaves of fresh baked bread. He stepped forward to shake hands. “Buon giorno
. Welcome to the Mirabella.”
“Paolo lives in Bastia, where the Mirabella is berthed. He has crewed with me many times.”
The two men nodded again, then walked toward the cockpit. The third man towered over them all, his fairer coloring and height a direct contrast. He grinned and clapped a big hand on the shorter man’s shoulder. “I’ll take those bags from here, mate. No problem. Thanks for your help. You sure know your way around the local markets.”
Dia frowned. Was that an Aussie accent? The lanky but buff guy wore baggy beige cargo shorts—whose pockets bulged like crazy—and a crisp white short-sleeved shirt. “G’day.” He stretched out a big hand. “Col Hafey. I’m your chef. I’ll be preparing a light lunch. Before we dock in Bastia, we’ll have a six-course dinner while you watch the sunset. It’s gonna be a beaut.”
A chef? Dia looked at Susan, who hadn’t stopped smiling since they’d come aboard.
“You will love his cooking.” Nico bunched the fingers of his right hand and made air kisses toward them. “Perfetto.”
“Let me know if you ladies require anything else.”
Dia frowned.
“Ya know. Fruit. Water. Wine.” Col dug a hand into one of his shorts pockets and pulled out a shiny red apple. He tossed it in the air, caught it and took a big bite. “We got it all. I’ve put a care package in each cabin. But if there’s anything else, just holler. I’ll be chopping and cooking up a storm.”
Storm? Dia looked out at the tranquil water of the Ligurian Sea.
“I’m sure you have provided for the ladies, everything they need,” Nico said.
“Thanks, Col.” Susan linked arms with Nico.
“Thank you.” Dia pulled her gaze back from the sea and thoughts of storms, surprised she could actually form real words.
“Let us go,” Nico said. “Allow me to show you to your cabins.”
“Oh. Another thing,” Col yelled back. He tossed the apple core to the seagulls. “Anyone allergic to anything? Nuts, shellfish?”
Dia shook her head. So did Susan.
“Bonzer.” Col gave them a wide grin and headed for the galley.
“He is noisy, no?” Nico laughed.
“Is he part of your permanent crew?” Susan asked.
“Two times he has cooked. I like him. He’s like the big friendly dog. But the cooking…” He shook his head as he walked them to the cabins. “You will see. Here we are. Go in, go inside, Dia.”
He gave her a tiny push. The cabin was exquisite, decorated in white and tan, and set against the cherry wood, it had an exotic feel. On a dreamy looking comforter sat a tray, which held a single cymbidium in a bud vase, a small dish of chocolates, an ice bucket with bottled water and soda, a crystal glass, a plate of crackers with a wedge of cheese, and a small bunch of grapes.
Dia’s stomach gave a tiny rumble of approval. Thank heavens for Col.
“This one is for you, Dia. Make yourself at home. Have a snack.” Nico stayed in the hall, beside Susan, who craned her neck to look into the room.
“Come. I show you your cabin, Susan.”
Dia took in her surroundings. The bathroom was tiny but all gleaming chrome with big fluffy white towels on the towel racks.
A few minutes later, she picked up a bunch of grapes and walked across the hall to where Susan was exclaiming over every tiny detail. Nico beamed. They stood close together peering into the small bathroom. Dia came up behind them.
“Like I say, we don’t use marble.” Nico ran a hand over the counter. “On a racing yacht you keep everything lightweight, for the speed.”
La la la la la. Here he goes again with the speed. “How soon do we leave?” Dia asked.
“We are underway. For five minutes.” Nico frowned back at her.
“I knew we were.” Susan grinned.
Dia brushed past her and hurried to the porthole. Sure enough. All she could see was sparkling blue water. Susan’s cabin had a view of the sea, whereas hers had looked back toward land.
Nico clapped his hands. “Let us go up on deck. We can sit in the other cockpit and watch Italia recede from view. Or do you want to rest?”
“Not me,” Susan said. “I’m putting on my bikini.”
“Bueno.”
Okay. So the boat was smooth. Dia felt only slight movement. Maybe this was going to be okay? “Bikini,” she said, and pointed to her cabin. “Give me five minutes.”
“Do you wish I should wait?” Nico asked.
“No. We’ll find our way up to you.” Susan pushed him out the door. “I’m sure you have stuff to discuss with your crew, Captain.”
He laughed. “We will have lunch in ten minutes. A little pasta and salad, some fish. Wine, perhaps?”
“I’d love some,” Susan said.
Dia nodded. Oh yeah, a glass of wine, lunch, a little sunbathing. This was the life. If the yacht continued to slice through the water with barely a movement she could get used to the lifestyle.
She looked back at Susan. “Knock on my cabin door when you’re ready.”
Chapter Seventeen
The interplay between Nico and Susan was sweet. The yacht slid out of the harbor and the boats in the marina became smaller. Livorno—spread out beyond the quay—faded into one swath of pinkish-white color.
They remained at the table after having feasted on lobster salad and a crisp white wine. Nico entertained Susan with tales of his family.
Looking up through the narrow window, Dia concentrated on the pure white of a taut sail, reminding her of where they were. It was such smooth sailing it was hard to believe at times that they were actually at sea.
Col arrived with a silver tray holding three dessert plates. “Panna cotta,” he said.
Dia craned her neck to get a peek. She loved the dessert. The words panna cotta translated to cooked cream. She imagined the multi-colored sarong around her waist tightened. Ah, who cares? She picked up the spoon, ready to dig in.
Col slid the plate toward her. “Hope you like poached pear with warm caramel sauce.” He winked. “I tossed on some slivered almonds ’cause you said you like them.”
Caramel? Almonds? Be still my heart.
Dia took a healthy spoonful and let the dessert slide over her tongue, savoring it for a moment. The sun, the gentle motion of the yacht, the bright blue sea, the exquisite texture and sweetness of the dessert, made for a near-perfect moment. The only thing missing was Carlo’s presence. She spooned up an even healthier portion.
It was probably only lust, or infatuation, that she’d felt for him. It was way too soon after Jason to be thinking of anything permanent. She had a ton more work to do on herself before she could ask anyone to hook up long term. Marriage. She shuddered.
“I know, it gives me the shivers too. Isn’t it scrumptious?” Susan’s spoon was poised to dip into the dessert again. She waved her other hand. “I mean everything.” She looked at Nico. She had the man waiting on her hand and foot.
“After lunch, we go on deck and take the sun. If you like to email, there is a computer in the library.”
“Grazie,” Susan said. “What time is it in California?”
Nico looked at his watch and rubbed the fingers of his other hand together. “Ah…uno, er, dodici.”
“So if it’s one p.m. here, it’s midnight back home?” Susan asked.
“Si. Your bambino, she will be waiting.” Nico smiled and touched Susan’s hand.
“I know. Angie will want to Skype.
“Si.” Nico raised his hands, and shook his head. “Yes. I mean, yes. I have to remember the English. It is ready.”
“Here. On the boat?” Dia’s heart gave a little flutter.
“After dinner we do the Skype. You can talk with your Carlo.” Nico winked.
“Thank you.” Dia took another sip of wine.
“Let us take the wine, and enjoy the sun.” With that he pulled out Susan’s chair and then Dia’s. Such a gentleman. She wanted to see Carlo’s face again. He’d still be jet-lagged.
> Nico carried the ice bucket with what remained of the second bottle of wine. She and Susan picked up their glasses and followed him to the deck chairs. Dia settled into the squishy chocolate and white cushions with a satisfied sigh. She closed her eyes.
This is the life.
Almost asleep, and playing back the scene of their wonderful lunch, she wondered why they would still be on the boat after dinner. The original plan was to drive to Calvi. Maybe Nico wanted time alone with Susan before going to the villa. After her nap, she intended to find out.
****
The afternoon passed lazily. Dia found herself drifting in and out of sleep. Susan trounced Nico at chess. They laughed loudly, teased often, and seemed so damn compatible. The stories they told each other were interesting. They’d moved beyond the usual getting to know you chitchat. It was like they’d known each other for months.
Dia stayed on her chaise, alternating between listening to their banter, and reading her novel. She knew she was watching the foundation of a promising relationship. How they’d handle a long distance affair raised all kinds of questions. Not that she’d raise them with Susan. What Susan did on this trip was her business.
“I’m taking a nap.” Dia closed her book.
“Let me to fix.” Nico jumped up and handed her sunscreen.
“Grazie.” Dia smeared it over herself.
“Turn, turn.” He made circles with one finger. “I get the back.”
His warm hands rubbed in the lotion, quick, clinical, nothing at all like when he applied it to Susan’s back. Dia smiled. She liked him even more for that. Who needed a sensual massage from their friend’s soon-to-be lover?
“Thank you,” she said again, and then grinned.
“Drink some water.” Nico poured from the sparkling water bottle into her glass.
“You’re fussing worse than my mother.” She laughed.
Nico laughed too. He jostled her shoulder with one big hand. “You are not used to this sun. This Mediterranean sun can be harsh.”
“I know.” She turned onto her stomach. “Wake me for anything fun.”
When she did wake, Susan had zonked out completely. Nico had gone to the cockpit. It was close to three p.m. Already, there were changes in the sky. Dia needed to go to the bathroom. It took a few moments to get her focus. She stood, wobbled a bit, and clutched at the chaise longue. “Damn.”
