The Sicilian's Proposition

by Rees, Lynette

  He straightened as Byrne descended the wooden stairs.

  “Ah there you are,” Byrne said, striding toward them.

  “I haven’t forgotten your bottles of wine,” Dante said, handing him a couple of bottles from the shelf behind him.

  Byrne grinned. “Thanks, these shall do nicely. How much longer will you be? Can I fire off some shots down here?”

  “Un momento, prego!,” Dante said looking into Joanne’s eyes. What was she saying to him? Dante exhaled. “Yes, go ahead if you like, take some photographs. Joanne and I will head back to the car.”

  Byrne frowned. “Oh, I was hoping to take some shots of you checking the kegs, that kind of thing.”

  “It’s okay, Dante.” Joanne had already started walking back up the stairs. “You don’t need me. I’ll wait in the car until you’ve finished.”

  Did she mean literally, that she didn’t need him? He needed her very much. She was beginning to consume his thoughts night and day. “As you wish, Joanne. I will be driving you back to the hotel myself, please get into my car. Mr. Byrne, my chauffeur, Bruno, will take you back to the hotel.” Dante noticed Byrne staring hard at Joanne; it was obvious there was some bad blood there the way she seemed to tense up in the man’s presence. “If you like, I will leave Bruno at your disposal for the rest of the evening. He will take you anywhere you want to go.”

  Byrne brightened. “Thank you, Mr. Alphonso. Sorry if I…er…interrupted anything earlier. I might visit a couple of bars this evening.”

  Dante thought he heard Joanne mutter something under her breath as she finished walking up the steps.

  When the photo shoot was over, Dante joined Joanne, who was already sitting in the passenger seat, arms folded. “What’s the matter?” he asked, sliding into the driver seat beside her and closing the door.

  She threw her hands in midair. “I’m sorry, Dante, but that man really is insufferable. He’s a married man and he gets up to all sorts of mischief, chasing women behind his wife’s back.”

  Dante shook his head. “Yes, I know the type, but really, you mustn’t let him get to you like that. You must not let him spoil your stay on this beautiful island.”

  She turned to face him. “Do you know you are absolutely right? Stuff Jackson Byrne!”

  Dante quirked a smile. “That’s the spirit. Now, I’m not taking you back to the hotel just yet. I want you to come somewhere with me.” He started the engine and drove off down the dirt track road, a cloud of dust thrown up in the air, surrounding the vehicle.

  “Oh please tell me where we’re going?”

  “No, Joanne, it is a surprise. You like surprises, don’t you?”

  “I suppose so, as long as they’re nice ones.”

  “Oh believe me, this one is nice, very nice.”

  So in other words, expect the unexpected.

  ***

  He drove down into the valley and near the coastline. The sun was just beginning to set and crimson, cerise, and apricot fingers melded into the skyline, and buildings and trees became silhouetted against the twilight sky. He pulled the car up outside a small restaurant near the sea.

  “Come on,” he said, his eyes locking with hers.

  For a moment, they just looked at one another, unable to break the spell, until Joanne spoke. “But where are we going, Dante?”

  “Inside of course, or we can sit outside if you prefer. You are hungry, aren’t you?” He ran his hand through his tousled hair. It was always well-styled, but she had to admit she liked this wild look of his. Yes, she was hungry; it had been several hours since she’d last eaten at the hotel.

  “Yes, I’d like that, thank you.”

  He got out of the car and opened the door for her. When had a man last done that for her? He closed the car door and took her hand as they walked into the restaurant. She trembled from his touch. Did he know how much she wanted him?

  “This is the seafood restaurant I mentioned earlier.” He gesticulated as if it had appeared from nowhere by magic.

  She smiled. “Don’t tell me—the one where the fish is so fresh you can see the fisherman handing over his catch.”

  He nodded. “Well, not all the time of course, but every now and again.”

  “And don’t tell me, your brother or maybe a sister owns it?”

  He laughed. “No, neither. It’s owned by a friend of my father’s, Luigi.”

  She found it unusual that everyone seemed to know everyone else around here. In London it could be most impersonal, where people ignored one another. Where people sometimes looked at you as if you were a demented fool if you dared smile at them. It was so refreshing, reminding her of life back in Wales in the small village where she’d been born. Everyone knew everyone and she missed that kind of thing. It wasn’t until now she realized it.

  “Ah, Dante!” A short wizened man stepped forward to greet them as they entered the restaurant. “Your usual table?”

  “Buena sera, Luigi!” Dante hugged the old man. “Er no, I was thinking of sitting outside on the balcony. This is Miss Joanne Smith from England.”

  “Buena sera, signorina,” He greeted her.

  “Hello, Luigi.” She smiled at him.

  “So, you know my name? What has Dante been telling you about me? All good I hope.”

  She laughed. “Yes, all good so far. He told me you are a friend of Vito’s.”

  “Ah yes.” The old man’s eyes lit up. “Vito and I have been friends since school days. There’s always a table here for him or a member of his family. Please come this way.” He led them out onto a small balcony overlooking the sea where a few diners were eating and settled them down on a small table with the most fantastic view.

  Joanne drew in a breath. If ever there was a heaven, this was it. Who could fail not to feel happiness in this country?

  “I will send a waiter over to take your order, pronto. Please enjoy.” He left them with a couple of menus and the promise of a bottle of wine on the house.

  A string of white lights strung across the balcony came on, casting a glow on Dante’s face. It was touching he chose this place for them to dine.

  “So, Joanne,” he said when he’d given her time to study the menu, “what would you like to have?”

  She laughed. “Aren’t you going to choose for me this time?”

  “No, this time I would like you to choose for us, and I shall be happy with your choice whatever that happens to be.”

  In the distance, she heard some shouts. She straightened up, her pulse rate sky rocketing. “What was that?”

  “Oh my dear, Joanne.” Dante laughed. “It’s the fishermen down below, they’ve just landed and handed their catch over. It’s probably the last boat of the day as it’s getting dark. Why are you so frightened? Have you been watching too many Godfather movies?”

  She relaxed. “Probably. It was so peaceful, I was surprised.”

  He took her hand in his. “There is nothing whatsoever to fear, particularly when you are with me. I shall protect you. Now then, what shall we have?”

  “I quite fancy the lobster linguine with tomato and chili.”

  “Then that is what we shall have.” He clicked his fingers and a waiter appeared. He spoke to him in Italian. Joanne was impressed with the way he commanded respect and became authoritative.

  He was a leader of men. Even though he was the youngest child, he was born to take charge.

  Luigi appeared at the table with a bottle of wine and two glasses. “I have taken the liberty of choosing this for you to go with your meal,” he said. “Please enjoy with my compliments.” They both thanked him and he uncorked the white wine and poured it into the glasses.

  While they waited for their meal, Dante’s eyes took on a concerned look. “Joanne.” He reached out and took her hand. “There is something I’ve been meaning to ask you…”

  “Oh?” she took a large gulp of wine. What did he want? Was this something to do with what happened between them at the winery earlier?


  “I noticed the evening we dined at my hotel suite, a flicker of pain in your eyes when you mentioned holidays at the seaside with your parents?” She nodded. “You mentioned something about painful memories…”

  Oh dear, this was going to be difficult. She swallowed the lump in her throat that was threatening to choke her. “I don’t know if I can talk about it, Dante. It’s difficult…”

  “That’s okay,” he said, squeezing her hand, with a touch of reassurance. “Maybe some other time.”

  She nodded and then let out a composing breath. That’s what she loved about him, he was so kind and caring, yet at the same time, he had that brooding quality about him. He was the sort of man who stood out from the crowd, the sort of man both men and women admired.

  “Yes, one day I might feel able to tell someone, but not right now. Let’s just enjoy the evening and one another’s company.”

  He nodded, looking deep into her eyes. There was something about the way he looked at her that made her feel he could see into her very soul. Something that told her he knew what made her tick.

  This was what mattered right now; she was with such a delightful man, sitting outside at sunset, and she heard the tide ebbing ever near to the shore. All she cared about was here, right now.

  When they’d eaten and drank their fill, he paid the waiter, leaving what appeared to Joanne to be a very generous tip, and he took her by the hand. “Come with me,” he said. He led her down some stone steps and a narrow path until she found herself on a small beach.

  “Is this the private beach you mentioned?” she asked.

  “Heavens, no.” He threw back his head and laughed. “No, this could never be considered private. There are too many fishing vessels landing here during the day and boat trips too, but on a moonlit night such as this, it’s often deserted.”

  She looked up at an indigo-brushed sky sprinkled with stars and the largest moon she’d ever seen. Maybe it was the effect of the wine or maybe something else, but the evening had a magical quality about it.

  “Wait a moment,” she said, and she removed her sandals. “I want to feel the sand beneath my toes.”

  “Really, Joanne, you are such a simple person.”

  “Simple?” What did he mean by that?

  “I meant you are easy to please. So uncomplicated. That’s what I love about you.”

  “Oh?” Maybe the other women in his life, especially Carla, had expensive tastes and were a little bit demanding. She’d learned to not expect too much out of life because just when you were at your happiest, things could go wrong. She reflected back to that fateful day at the seaside and bit her lip. “So, your other women were complicated, I take it?”

  “I suppose you could say that, yes.”

  He picked up a pebble from the beach. “Here, hold this.” Then he put it in her hand. “How does it feel to you?”

  She closed her eyes for a few seconds. “Smooth. Yes, very smooth.”

  “Aha, yes. This pebble is rounded, it has no rough edges, Joanne, and that is you.”

  “Well, thank you. I suppose I should be flattered, though no one has ever compared me to a pebble before.” She giggled and slipped it into her trouser pocket.

  He drew up close to her, swept back a lock of hair from her face, and cupping her chin, drew her to him and brought his lips down on hers. She’d never experienced such passion, such intensity in all of her life. This man was doing things to her she had never known before. Maybe he would throw her on the sand and make love to her. Instead he drew back and mumbled something that sounded like amore under his breath.

  “Come, I will take you back to the hotel as it’s been a long day. Tomorrow I want you ready nice and early. I am going to take you out on my boat.”

  She swallowed. He was telling her what he wanted to do and in a way she liked that. She frowned. Would Byrne accompany them?

  As if he could read her mind, he said, “Don’t worry. I don’t need the photographer around tomorrow. I am going to send him off on a trip to Palermo at my expense. It should keep him quiet.”

  She laughed. “Good.”

  “Besides, I want you all to myself. One other thing. Don’t forget to bring your bikini if you have one.”

  She shivered involuntary. Yes, she did have a bikini, but the thought of him seeing her wearing it was a bit disconcerting. Especially after all the Italian, bronzed beauties he must have encountered. How could she match up to any of those?

  “Yes, I’ll bring it along,” she found herself answering. There was no getting out of it now even if she wanted to, and deep down inside, she knew she didn’t want to. She wanted to spend all day tomorrow with Dante Alphonso.

  ***

  The following morning she was waiting at reception with her beach bag packed with all the necessary equipment—suntan lotion, towel, bikini, and a novel if she had time to read. She wore her new red and white sundress, shades, and had also brought along her straw hat and wrap in case it got cold. She looked at her watch, it was eight forty-five, and he’d promised to collect her at eight thirty.

  Byrne passed her on his way out, strutting with his hands in his trouser pockets, on his way to Palermo she assumed after what Dante had told her. He stopped when he got parallel with her.

  He sneered. “Stood you up, has he darling?” She just ignored him, turned her back, and heard his footsteps disappear outside the door.

  Ten minutes later, she began chewing her lip, heart racing, her body a mass of nerves. She went over to the desk and asked the receptionist if Mr. Alphonso had left a message for her. The smartly dressed young woman behind the desk shook her head. “No, Signorina.”

  Joanne was just about to give up when the glass reception front doors parted and Dante stepped inside, striding toward her. “I’m so sorry Joanne, I had a puncture.”

  She let out a breath. “That’s okay, I was beginning to think you weren’t coming and Jackson Byrne was enjoying the floor show.”

  He smiled a smile that found its way directly to her heart, robbing her of her breath. “Let’s not worry about him, Joanne. Today we spend all day together on my boat.” He took her arm and guided her to his car outside.

  ***

  At the waterfront, Dante helped Joanne aboard his white luxury yacht named Maria. “She’s beautiful,’ Joanne exclaimed, and then frowned for a moment.

  “You’re wondering who Maria is, aren’t you?” he said, looking deep into her aquamarine eyes. “Please rest assured, Joanne, this yacht is named after my mother. I bought it last year after her death. In the early days it gave me great comfort heading out to sea on my own, but really I wasn’t alone as it seemed as though Mamma was with me.”

  She smiled. “Of course, I should have guessed as much.”

  What did she really think of him? That he was a womanizer? A playboy? At one time maybe, but not now. Now all he wanted was a quiet life, a good woman, and a family like his brother.

  “Well it looks a lovely day for a boat trip!” he said brightly. The sun had been out since early morning. “I hope you’ve brought your sun protection cream and your bikini, Joanne,” he joked.

  Her face flushed. She looked a little shy. He liked that about her. She was nothing like the women he had taken on boat trips in the past. They couldn’t wait to strip off and show him their wares; they were proud of their lithe bodies. Tanned and taut, yet although their bodywork was up to scratch, they were self-centered sorts. He could see that now, though at the time, he had a blind spot to it.

  What he loved about Joanne was her innocence, her zest for life. He was sure she was on the verge of telling him last night what had happened to her during her childhood. It must be something big for her to hold back like that.

  He showed her to a seat next to his up at the helm where they could both look out to sea as he piloted the boat.

  “Where are we going?”

  “Aah. Wait and see young lady.”

  “You’re full of surprises, Dante.”

 
He shrugged. “Yes, what is life if we do the same boring thing day in day out? You could be back in London now, at your desk instead of being in this beautiful country.”

  “I’m glad you reminded me. It makes this trip feel all the sweeter.” She smiled. It was good to see her so happy, yet there was something she needed to say.

  “Joanne, if you ever want to talk,” he said, taking her hand. “Just let me know.”

  He heard her take in a deep breath and let it out again. “Okay,” she said at last. “You’ll be the first to know, if and when I’m ready to talk about things.”

  “Well, let’s set sail then!” he shouted. “Anchors away!”

  Chapter Five

  The sun glinted off the sea, sending a profusion of sparkling lights into her eyes, dazzling her vision. She could almost taste the sea air and feel the wet, cold, ocean spray coming up to meet her. It was an exhilarating trip as the boat glided across the waves. Reaching into her bag, she grabbed her sunshades and put them on. “Ah that’s better. So, where are we going?”

  “To a beautiful place. You will not be disappointed, amore mio. Now, how would you like a nice glass of wine? I shall save the champagne for when we get to our destination.”

  He leaned over and opened up a large plastic box and took out a bottle of wine that had been chilling and handed her two crystal glasses.

  She blinked. “At this time of the day, Dante?”

  “Any time is a good time for a glass of wine in Sicily.” He poured the wine into the glasses and, taking one for himself, took a long sip. “Ahh, that was a good year.”

  “From your family vineyard?”

  “Yes, but of course. This is a very good wine from 2007. It was an excellent year. We had a bumper crop of grapes.”

  She took a sip, savoring the taste. “I concur.” She sat back and closed her eyes for a moment. Life was so different here. What it would be like to live in Sicily. The people were so friendly. It reminded her of Wales in that respect, though not the weather, of course. Some days all it did was rain there. She never regretted moving to London; it had advanced her career as a journalist.