He put his glasses back on and returned to his papers. It seemed as if the matter was settled.
‘Thank you. I really appreciate it.’ As Rose walked out of the room she thought she heard Elena chuckle quietly behind her.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
MATTEO WAS SITTING on the veranda, letting the evening breeze catch his thoughts and carry them away. He’d always loved the quiet of the evening here after the noise of a day spent at work, or with family or friends. Tonight, though, it felt as if there was something missing.
He heard the sound of a car, and when he looked around the glimmer of headlights was shining through the front windows. It was a little late for anyone to turn up unannounced, and he wondered who it was, and whether something was up. Heaving himself out of his chair, he walked to the front door.
Rose was standing by her car, dressed in jeans and a white top, with a lacy cardigan thrown around her shoulders. She seemed a little agitated, and since it was obvious that she wasn’t about to come to him, he hurried over to her.
‘Hey. I was just thinking about you.’
She smiled up at him. ‘All good, I hope.’
‘Good doesn’t cover it.’ She seemed a little ill at ease, and he took her hand, pressing her fingers to his lips.
‘I... William’s in bed and Elena said she’d look after him tonight...’
‘You’ve come back. And you’re staying?’ Suddenly, everything that had been missing from the last couple of hours was back where it should be.
‘Do you mind?’ She looked up at him, her eyes bright in the failing light.
‘Do I mind? Get inside, before I pick you up and carry you.’
* * *
He’d helped her pack her things up for the morning, and then he’d poured them both a glass of wine and they’d taken it down onto the beach. It was dark, and although the breeze was still warm, Rose snuggled against him.
‘It’s so beautiful here. And the lifestyle’s...different from London.’
‘Yeah. I love it, even if I do miss the buzz of London from time to time.’
‘You know, I’ve been thinking. You speak Sicilian at home, and Italian and English...’
‘Yeah?’
‘It all seems pretty complicated to me. Didn’t you get confused?’
He shrugged. ‘Not really. When you grow up with more than one language, you just use whichever one’s being spoken around you. My sister’s married to an Englishman, and she speaks Italian to her children, while he speaks only English. My nephews use both very naturally.’
‘Okay, so I’ve got to ask. What do they speak to each other?’
Matteo chuckled. ‘She tells me that they speak the language of love. I think they argue in Italian, though.’
‘You think the English can’t argue?’ She nudged him in the ribs.
‘It wouldn’t ever occur to me to say that. Particularly not to you. You argue beautifully.’
‘You think I’m getting the hang of being argumentative, then?’
He chuckled. ‘Once you master the irregular verbs, you’ll be fluent.’
‘William’s picking up Italian really well. I was wondering if it might be a good idea to encourage him to continue speaking it after we got home. But I’m worried it might confuse him. What do you think?’
Matteo was silent for a moment. Without thinking, she’d asked him to help her make one of the choices that all parents made practically every day, and he’d baulked suddenly.
‘I think you know your own son best.’
This was the distance he’d promised to maintain between himself and William. It wasn’t all for William’s benefit, there was his own hurt there too.
‘Did you never think of having your own children?’
‘I thought about it all the time. I thought that I did...not my own, I wasn’t their real father, but I loved them like a father. And then I left them.’ Heartbreak jangled in his voice.
‘You didn’t have any choice, Matteo.’
‘There’s always a choice. I made it, and I have to live with it.’
And now he travelled light. His self-imposed punishment was that there would never be any thoughts of permanence in a relationship. And no children either, even though Matteo was made to be a father.
But it was what she wanted too. For her relationship with Matteo not to touch William. For there to be no thought of permanence, because she’d messed up once and couldn’t trust herself not to do so again. They thought alike, even if the idea did seem suddenly depressing.
‘I suppose we both want the same thing.’
‘Yeah. Is that a bad thing?’ He flopped on his back in the sand, one hand tucked behind his head, the other balancing his glass on his stomach. He seemed to be staring up at the stars, and Rose wondered what he was thinking. Surely, tonight of all nights, staring up at the stars was something they might be expected to do together?
But regrets were not something that Matteo seemed to dwell on too much. He was a creature of the present, living each moment for itself. He reached up, clasping her hand and pulling it to his lips. ‘Are you having second thoughts? About my role as your sexual plaything?’
The invitation to join him in the present was clear. And one that Rose wanted to accept. ‘No. I’m very happy with that arrangement.’
‘Okay. So am I. Although I feel you might reciprocate.’
Rose laughed. ‘Ah. So I could be your...bit of fluff?’
‘Do you see any fluff in my house?’
‘In that case...femme fatale?’
‘That’s got possibilities, particularly in the wardrobe department.’ He smiled as Rose dug her fingers into his ribs. ‘Although I’m not too sure about the fatale bit. I’m hoping to survive the experience.’
‘Well, what do you have in mind?’ This was all a fantasy, but it was a nice one, and one that seemed possible for two people running from the truth.
‘I thought...something that involves you walking around my house naked quite a bit. And where you allow me to buy you expensive underwear so that I can tear it off with my teeth.’
It was a thought. One that was surprisingly attractive. ‘But if I’m walking around naked, how can you tear my underwear off with your teeth? There’s a flaw in your logic.’
‘Hmm. Yeah, I see your point. Maybe we should have an alternating arrangement. Does that work?’
‘Might do.’ She dropped a teasing kiss onto his lips. ‘I’ll think about it.’
‘There is one thing I’d like us to be.’
‘Yeah?’
‘I’d like us to be friends. You know, the talking kind.’
Rose wanted that too. ‘The supporting kind?’ He’d done so much to support her, and it was that foundation that had allowed her to trust him and make the sex possible.
‘Yeah. Definitely that. The Whatever happens, I’ll be there for you kind.’
‘Yes. That sounds really good.’ She turned, leaning on his chest. ‘So that’s the bargain?’
‘Yeah. I think so. So do you want to hear my fantasy?’
Delight made her shiver in his arms. ‘Always.’
‘My fantasy is waking up with you. Together, in a bright new morning. Taking some time just to hold you, and then watching you dress. Making breakfast...’
That was a great fantasy. ‘I’d like that too. Only I’d like to watch you shower.’
‘Yeah. That can be arranged.’
‘We’ll have to have an early night.’
‘That’s what I was thinking. Come to bed?’
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
MATTEO WAS HAPPY. As long as he didn’t think too much about the past or the future, which was no real difficulty, the last six weeks had been perfect.
He an
d Rose hadn’t spent their time glued to each other, and if anything that had made it so much more exciting. He’d taken to driving up to the site a couple of evenings a week after work, and she showed him the finds and the emerging pattern of the villa. At the weekend he took Rose and William to the market or the beach, or they went sightseeing.
Amongst their friends, there was a tacit understanding that they were a couple, but no one ever said it in so many words. Rose and William had spent time up at the vineyard with Matteo’s family and Rose had cooked for them at his house, a traditional English Sunday lunch, which Nannu Alberto had pronounced perfect in every way. They’d hosted a barbeque that everyone from the dig had attended and which had spilled out onto the beach for most of the evening, and a dinner for a group of Matteo’s friends and their children. And in all that time they’d hardly touched, happy just to be in each other’s company.
But for one night during the week, and one at the weekend, after Rose had taken William home and put him to bed, he had her to himself. Matteo found himself looking forward to it all day, watching her get out of her car and walk towards him, looking as if butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth. Then as soon as the front door closed behind them, sizzling heat took over. Fire was capricious and could be quenched, and Matteo had come to the conclusion that it was inadequate to describe it. This was molten lava.
* * *
Today had been yet another perfect day, a trip to a Roman amphitheatre, lunch and then a lazy afternoon spent in the shade of the patio. Matteo had taken William up onto the roof with a pair of binoculars while Rose had prepared tea for them. In the cool breeze of the evening they were walking barefoot on the beach.
‘He really seemed to enjoy this morning.’ Matteo was strolling with his hands in his pockets, and Rose walked beside him.
‘Yes, I’m surprised. I thought he might think it was just a pile of old stones.’
Matteo laughed. ‘You thought that he’d see a struggle for life and death. And that he’s too young for that.’
‘Yeah. Maybe I did.’ Matteo had given him an alternative, if not quite accurate, historical perspective. ‘I’m not sure he quite got the logic with the princesses. He’s only four.’
‘I suppose I should have said that the winner of the fight gets a gold coin to spend at the market and the loser gets to marry a princess. He’s not old enough to appreciate the value of a princess...’ Matteo grinned at her. ‘A principessa...’
The last time he’d called her that he’d been staring into her eyes, locked together in lazy lovemaking. Rose smiled at the thought of it because after she’d taken William home Matteo would be waiting for her, ready to do the same all over again.
They strolled in silence, both lost in the same dream. One that shattered suddenly when William’s high-pitched scream sounded above the noise of the waves. Before she even knew what she was doing, she was running along the beach towards her son, who had staggered into the sea, seemingly intent on washing something off his leg.
Matteo got to him first, picking him up, clear of the waves. The boy was wriggling and screaming, and Matteo was trying to hold him still to look at his leg.
‘Don’t come into the water. And watch where you’re putting your feet.’
Rose looked down and saw a pink-edged bubble with a mass of dark tentacles in the sand next to her. ‘What is it?’
‘It’s a Portuguese man-of-war. Don’t touch it.’
He was holding William tight, bending over the water but holding the boy well clear of it. Rose could see a red weal already beginning to form on William’s leg, and there seemed to be a bit of tentacle sticking to it. Matteo pulled it off with his thumb and forefinger, wincing as he flung it away.
‘Okay. Okay, I know it hurts. We’ll make it better, I promise.’
William didn’t stop crying, but he clung to Matteo, his arms around his neck.
‘Come out of the water...’ Rose wanted to snatch William away from him and hold her son, but she knew that Matteo was the one he needed at the moment.
‘One minute.’ Matteo’s voice was calm. He scooped seawater up in his hand and poured it over William’s leg, rinsing the area around the sting thoroughly. Then he straightened and walked out of the water.
‘What can I do? Tell me what to do...’ Rose swallowed down her mounting panic and the instinct to grab William and comfort him. He was in the best place he could be at the moment. Matteo was strong enough to keep him safe and knew exactly what to do.
‘There’s a medical bag in the boot of my car. Will you get it, please?’ Matteo started to jog across the sand towards the house, and Rose followed, stumbling after him.
Ignoring his usual rule of not treading anything from the beach into the house, Matteo strode across the living area to the stairs. Rose made for the kitchen, finding his car keys where he’d dumped them on top of the fridge, and ran out to the car, opening it and fetching the large, zipped holdall from the boot.
The sound of activity led her upstairs and into the bathroom. Matteo was sitting on the wide, tiled ledge at the end of the bath, holding William on his lap. The sting was bright red and already swollen, and William was whimpering with pain, tears rolling down his cheeks.
She dropped the bag on the floor and unzipped it, opening it out flat on the floor. There was an array of medical equipment, carefully arranged in compartments for quick identification. ‘What do you need?’
‘My stethoscope, please.’ Matteo glanced up at her as she proffered it. ‘It’s all right. He’s going to be okay. I’m just checking him over.’
She couldn’t quite believe the reassurance. Matteo was calm and quiet, but he was ignoring the sting on William’s leg in favour of checking his vital signs. Rose waited, counting the beats of her own heart while he concentrated on William’s.
‘Has he had any kind of allergic reaction before? To bites or stings, or to medication of any kind?’
‘No. Nothing at all.’
‘Good. His heart and breathing are normal and I’m going to check the lymph nodes at the top of his leg.’ He pulled the leg of William’s shorts to one side, pressing gently.
Rose watched, her hand over her mouth, willing herself not to cry. William had to be all right. Matteo wouldn’t let anything happen to him. She clung on to the thought.
‘Is there some medicine you can give him?’ She looked at the medical bag.
Matteo looked up at her, smiling. ‘He doesn’t need anything. He’s okay but I still want to keep an eye on him. Will you see to his leg, and make sure there are no more stingers left in there? There are tweezers in the bag and put a pair of gloves on—the nematocysts can still keep stinging for a while.’
Rose knelt down on the floor looking carefully at William’s leg. There was one tiny stinger left in the wound and she used the tweezers to pull it off.
‘Mummy... No...’ William shifted suddenly and she instinctively jerked backwards.
‘Okay... It’s all right.’ Matteo’s voice was soothing. ‘I know it hurts, but Mummy’s got to look at your leg so we can make it better.’
The stethoscope hung from his neck now, and he was holding William close, comforting him. Matteo was running the full gamut of promises, from ice cream to video games, and Rose couldn’t help smiling. Just like the concerned father that William had never had, and which Matteo was so determined not to be.
‘That’s all of them.’ Rose’s glance flipped to Matteo’s leg as she caught sight of a rapidly reddening weal on it. ‘What’s this?’
‘I’ll deal with that in a minute... Ow!’ He flinched as Rose carefully pulled a piece of tentacle off his calf, dropping it onto the wad of paper towel that she’d been using for the stingers from William’s leg.
‘Why didn’t you say anything, Matteo?’ The nematocysts on the tentacle must have been stinging him repeatedl
y all this time, but in his concern for William he hadn’t even stopped to pull it off.
‘We’ll deal with that later. It’s okay.’ He flinched again as Rose pulled a couple of large stingers from his leg.
‘It’s all right...’ William reached up suddenly, touching Matteo’s cheek. ‘Mummy’s making it better for you.’
Something bloomed in Matteo’s eyes. It looked suspiciously like love. ‘Yeah, I know. Thank you.’ He dipped his head, brushing a kiss on the top of William’s. ‘But we’ll make you better first, eh?’
‘It hurts...’
‘I know, I know. We’re going to bathe it now, and then it’ll feel lots better.’ Matteo glanced up at Rose. ‘Will you fill the basin up? Warm water.’
‘Blood heat?’
‘A little warmer if he’ll tolerate it. Heat will deactivate the venom, and it’s the best thing for relieving the pain.’
Rose noticed that when the basin was full, and Matteo lifted William up, sitting him on the vanity top, he held his own hand under the water with William’s leg. His thumb and forefinger were red and swollen, where he’d pulled the tentacle off William, but he said nothing about it, only comforting the boy.
‘You’re all right there for a minute?’ She closed the medical bag, pushing it out of the way and picking up the wad of paper towel from the floor.
‘Yeah. Careful when you get rid of that. Put it straight into the dustbin, along with the gloves.’
‘Okay. Back in a minute.’ Rose leaned over to kiss William, and received a watery smile from her son.
She collected a high stool from the kitchen and carried it upstairs. William was snuggled in Matteo’s arms, and clearly the hot water was making a difference.
‘How does it feel now, sweetie?’
William gave her a nod, not letting go of Matteo’s T-shirt. He was okay, and now she could turn her attention to the next thing that needed to be done. She picked up the stool, planting it next to the basin.
English Rose for the Sicilian Doc Page 14
