The Sicilian's Surprise Love-Child

by Carol Marinelli

  Well, she had relived it for the last time and she had embarrassed herself enough over him.

  It really was time to move on.

  So, instead of peeling another tissue from the box she topped up her lip-gloss over swollen lips and tried to repair the damage her crying binge had caused to her eyes.

  She would not sit in her hotel room and mourn him—or rather mourn the fantasy of him—for a moment longer.

  It was springtime in Rome.

  She downloaded that dating app and scrolled through it, but when she tried to write her profile she gave in and thought, Baby steps, Aurora.

  She headed down to the bar, more than a little nervous about walking in alone.

  And just as she was doing her best to get over Nico, who did she see walking towards her?

  A scowling Nico, who, from his expression, wasn’t expecting to see her either.

  ‘Aurora.’ He gave a swift nod.

  ‘Buona sera.’ It took everything she had to greet him with a smile.

  ‘Buona sera. I thought you were on a bus trip?’

  ‘No.’ She did not elaborate ‘I’m going to have a drink at the bar.’

  ‘Alone?’ Nico frowned.

  ‘Not for long hopefully!’ She smiled at her own little joke. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’ Then she corrected herself. ‘Oh, no, I won’t. You’re heading home in the morning.’

  ‘Here is my home, Aurora.’

  ‘Ah, but home is where the heart is, Nico. You know that.’

  ‘I do,’ he agreed. ‘And I shall say it again—here is my home.’

  He ordered his head to give her a nod and his legs to turn and walk off, but neither obeyed. And then, even as his common sense was screaming at him to walk away, he spoke. ‘And, given you are in my hometown, let me get you a drink.’

  He’d done it again.

  Just when she was determined to move on from him he pulled her back to him.

  Well, not this time, Aurora told herself. Yes, she would have a drink with him, but she would not be making a fool of herself again.

  He was her boss and she would hold on to that fact.

  The bar was busy and he put a hand on her upper arm to guide her through. Staff jumped into action and they were taken to a quiet corner table.

  ‘It’s so busy I thought I’d have to drink at the bar,’ Aurora said. Although that was possibly the reason he had joined her. ‘It’s lucky we got a table.’ That sounded naïve. ‘I mean, I’m glad no one was asked to move to make way for the boss.’

  ‘It would be poor form to do that to my guests, which is why this table is reserved solely for me.’

  He watched as her lips pursed and wondered what he could possibly have said to upset her, for it looked as if she was tempted to get up and walk out.

  Aurora was.

  His private table did not impress her. In fact she felt a little insulted as she wondered how many other women had sat in this very seat. How many hands had he held across this very table?’ And then she halted herself, for Nico was the last person she could imagine being affectionate.

  They ordered their drinks—a spritzer for Aurora and a red wine for Nico—and then sat in tense silence as they waited for them to arrive.

  ‘Aren’t you going to ask me how your father is?’ Aurora asked.

  ‘I spoke with him two hours ago and I see his doctor tomorrow.’

  ‘My mother is taking in his meals while I’m away. In case you were wondering.’

  Nico said nothing and Aurora took a deep breath, trying to keep her exasperation in. Reminding herself that Nico did not want to hear anything about home...

  She was supposed to be keeping things professional, Aurora told herself. Except his father was fading. Did Nico properly know that?

  ‘Look, Nico, I know that after all he did to you, you must hate him, but I think—’

  ‘I don’t,’ Nico interrupted. ‘I love him very much.’

  For Aurora the sky turned purple, the floor was now sand and the people in the bar were green.

  Everything she knew was gone.

  ‘I have to accept, though, that he does not want my love. Still, tomorrow I will try again, and I will be told to get lost again.’

  Their drinks were brought to them and even after Aurora had taken a sip of hers the revelation had not sunk in.

  ‘You love him?’

  ‘Always.’

  His response was made in a voice she had never heard. One she did not know how to describe, for it was both decided and resigned.

  ‘So, no,’ Nico continued, ‘I will not ask you how my father is, because I am in touch with his doctor every day. I know he is failing. I have sent him the lifting chair that you texted me about. And I have a chef in Palermo currently trying to recreate some dinner he keeps speaking about. One that his mother once made. I hope that it will prompt him to eat.’

  ‘Nico...’

  She did not know what to say. Oh, the hell of loving someone who beat you! The hell of loving someone who goaded and taunted you.

  ‘He seems a little happier,’ she said, and saw his disbelieving look. But she spoke the truth. ‘He seems calmer,’ she told him. ‘Although I have a confession, Nico. I was a very bad carer and bought him some whisky last week. We watched a television show together and we laughed...’

  ‘Thank you,’ Nico said.

  Aurora resisted reaching over and taking his hand. Nico did not like affection, but she ached to give it to him. She attempted to keep some distance, as she told him the painful truth. ‘He’s nearing the end.’

  ‘I know he is.’

  Aurora felt selfish for her assumption that Nico was going home just to avoid her. She sensed he had closed the subject, and so, after a moment’s pensive silence between them, she looked around the lavish bar.

  ‘Pino will be upset he missed this,’ Aurora said. ‘He wanted to buy you a drink and a meal.’

  ‘He wanted me to go on the bus tour.’

  That made Aurora laugh.

  ‘I’m meeting them all for breakfast tomorrow, before I fly off.’

  ‘I wasn’t told.’

  ‘There’s an invitation being delivered to your rooms at turndown,’ Nico said. ‘And before you tell me that I should not be so formal with old friends, I will explain again that this trip is not about friends visiting Rome. It is work—and I take my work very seriously.’

  ‘I know,’ Aurora said. ‘And so do your staff. But aside from that fact, we are friends visiting Rome.’

  He said nothing.

  ‘Well, they are your friends,’ she amended, for Nico had once told Aurora that they could never be friends. ‘Whether you want them to be or not.’

  Nico’s eyes shuttered, and he wished that it was enough to obliterate the knives of her words—for she was right. Pino et al were his friends.

  More than friends.

  It takes a village...

  And it was true that the people of Silibri had raised him.

  He had sat in the park as a terrified child and Bruno Messina had insisted he come back to their home to sleep.

  And he had been so hungry at times, too proud to beg, but the emptier his cupboards the more frequent the invitations.

  ‘Hey, Nico!’ Pino would say. ‘I need some work done in my yard.’

  And that had meant supper...

  ‘Nico,’ Francesca would say. ‘I have made too many biscotti. Take them before they go stale.’

  Tomorrow, at breakfast, he would take off his jacket and he would smile and laugh with them. Somehow, before the hotel opened and it was all down to business, he would thank the people who had always been there.

  ‘Don’t you ever wonder about home?’ Aurora asked.

  ‘I hear enough of what’s going on,’ Nico said. He didn’t like inva
sive gossip and exaggerated stories, but then he looked at Aurora. ‘Yes.’

  They shared a small smile.

  ‘How’s Chi-Chi?’ he asked.

  ‘Still looking for a husband.’

  ‘Do you ever hear from Antonietta?’

  ‘Occasionally.’ Aurora nodded, but then she shook her head. ‘Not as much as I would like. I miss her a lot.’

  ‘You were close,’ he agreed.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I would like to know what happened at The Wedding that Never Was.’

  ‘You heard about that?’ Aurora checked.

  ‘Everyone who has a drop of Sicilian blood probably did!’

  Aurora gave a small smile and took a sip of her drink, but she didn’t lean forward in glee and share the details with him. He knew Aurora hurt for her friend.

  ‘We just sat there in the church...waiting,’ she told him. ‘Waiting and waiting for the bride to arrive.’

  ‘Did you have any clue that Antonietta wasn’t going to show up?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Aurora...?’ he checked.

  ‘It’s the truth, Nico. I guessed she wasn’t happy, but I knew no more than I told you that night—’

  Whoops! They were trying not to refer to that.

  ‘I was surprised and a bit hurt that she didn’t ask me to be her bridesmaid. And I knew she wasn’t thrilled at the idea of marrying Sylvester, but her father is so forceful. Both families are.’

  ‘And so you sat in the church and you waited...?’ Nico prompted.

  ‘Yes. A car arrived, and then word spread that it was not the bride—just Antonietta’s father. The priest spoke to him outside.’

  ‘And...?’

  ‘A fight broke out in the church. It was terrible, Nico. As soon as I worked out what was happening I left and got a ride up to her parents’ house, but Antonietta was already on the cuccette to France.’

  ‘She took the train out?’

  Aurora nodded. ‘I miss her very much, but she will never be back. She wrote and told me, but I knew it already—for how can she come back? Her name is mud all through the village and beyond. Not with her friends, but she has a very large family.’

  Nico would have liked to tell her that time would heal things, but he knew only too well how people could hold a grudge.

  ‘Anyway,’ Aurora said, ‘I’ve decided that I’m going to go and see her.’

  ‘In France?’

  She nodded. ‘As soon as I’ve saved up enough and have some leave owing I’m going to book my flight.’

  He wanted to point out that she’d already have enough money if she would just let him pay her for his father’s care. Nico really wanted her to have that holiday with her friend in France, but he’d have to work out a way to give it to her. Without offending her, of course. Or misleading her.

  ‘Do you want another drink?’ Nico offered. ‘Or perhaps we could get dinner.’

  ‘You told me to step out of your shadow, Nico,’ Aurora said. ‘You told me that I was here for work. We’ve caught up on family and friends, so let’s just keep it about business.’ Aurora was proud of herself for that, at least.

  ‘Okay. Tell me about this idea you have.’

  ‘I thought you didn’t deal with assistants?’ Aurora sneered, reminding herself of how appalling his treatment of her today had been. ‘I’m going to speak with Vincenzo tomorrow. I will give him my idea and watch as he gets promoted.’

  He smiled.

  It was the most dangerous thing, for she could feel her resolve melting like the ice cubes at the bottom of her glass.

  ‘Tell me, Aurora.’

  ‘No.’ But she was so excited that she couldn’t not share it. ‘Okay—I think we should offer a very exclusive package for weddings at the temple ruins.’

  ‘I don’t own that land.’

  ‘But you own the land that surrounds it, and without that access it’s very difficult to get to.’

  ‘Yes, but there might be tourists about, or—’

  ‘Nico, it will be the same as a beach wedding. Of course there might be tourists or people walking there. And,’ she went on, ‘I know that whatever we come up with it might have to change later—there might one day be ten hotels in Silibri—’

  ‘Not like mine.’ Nico gave an adamant shake of his head.

  The monastery had been a hellish restoration, and no developer in their right mind would have gone to the lengths he had. That aside, there was nowhere else with the views from the old monastery, nowhere with such access.

  ‘Aurora, it would be...’ He was about to put up obstacles, and there were many, but she was right. He knew that, for of course he had considered it. ‘It would be brilliant—’

  ‘But only in the right hands,’ Aurora said. ‘Only with the right manager.’

  ‘We have a functions manager.’

  ‘I’d want to make weddings at the temple separate. Exclusive,’ Aurora said. ‘And I want that role.’

  ‘You have no experience,’ Nico pointed out. ‘You have been in the hospitality industry for four weeks. Before that—’

  ‘I was a cleaner—and a very good one,’ Aurora said. ‘Is your father’s house not spotless?’

  ‘It is.’

  Aurora had just combined three of his least favourite topics—his father, the fact that she was his father’s unpaid help, and weddings.

  ‘And I have contacts,’ she said. ‘I know everyone...’

  ‘Aurora...’ He kept his voice even. ‘It’s a good idea—an excellent one. But let’s get the hotel up and running first.’

  She could not wait, though. ‘Nico, we could have wedding gowns for hire, for couples who want to be spontaneous. I want this to happen. I want that role and I will tell you why. I know what the temple looks like in the early morning, and in summer and in winter. I know how it looks when the moon is low at night...’ To prove it she took out her phone and moved her chair round the table so she sat next to him. ‘Look!’

  With the scent of her close, with her bare arm next to his suited one, with her voice so close he could feel its vibration, Nico decided it was safer indeed to look at the images on her phone.

  And they really were breathtaking.

  ‘Since I could walk I have explored those ruins almost daily. For years I have—’

  It was she who halted now, for she could not reveal to Nico that it was there she had envisaged their wedding. Not in the tiny little village church, but there at the temple ruins.

  It had been a pointless dream—she had known even then—for her parents would never have agreed to her marrying anywhere other than in church.

  She felt his arm against hers and the heat from his thigh—or was it from hers? They were sitting so close to each other, and it had happened so naturally, but she felt terribly aware of that fact.

  She moved herself and her chair to a far safer location.

  Opposite him.

  ‘At least think about it,’ Aurora said. ‘And think of me...’ She paused and their eyes met across the table. ‘I mean, consider me for the role.’

  ‘Of course,’ Nico said, and still his eyes held hers. ‘And I do think of you, Aurora.’

  She did not know what to say to that. She felt the pull of him, but it was all too late, she decided. She had put him behind her.

  She tore her eyes from his gaze and looked down to her glass, which was empty.

  ‘Another one?’ Nico said.

  ‘I had better get on,’ Aurora said. She stood and put her bag over her shoulder. ‘Thank you for the drink, Nico. It was good to catch up.’

  He walked her out and towards the elevators, and she could feel the thick energy between them. She dreaded that he might kiss her—but only because it would take a stronger woman than her to say no.

  ‘You ha
d better go,’ Aurora said. ‘You have an early start. I know because I booked your driver.’

  ‘I should go,’ Nico agreed.

  In fact, Aurora was the very reason he wasn’t staying at the hotel that night—to avoid just such a situation as this. And yet even with all his exit strategies planned here they stood, face to face.

  ‘I will see you at breakfast before I leave?’

  ‘I await my invitation,’ Aurora said.

  ‘It will be on your pillow.’

  She wanted him on her pillow—and far more dangerous than her want, which was perpetually there, was the clear arrival of his.

  Nico’s hand came to her cheek and he smoothed a stray lock of hair. It wasn’t only Aurora’s resolve that was fading.

  She floored him.

  Always.

  The sexual attraction between them was undeniable, for sure. But there was also this banter between them—this life they both knew and this world they had shared. And Nico, despite doing everything he could to avoid it, now did not want the night to end.

  His hand remained, cupping her ear, and his fingers were in her hair.

  She could remember that hand, pressed over her mouth as she came, and she fought not to kiss it, not to flirt.

  She won the former battle but failed on the latter.

  ‘I packed your underwear,’ Aurora said in a provocative tone—and there went the express train of her mouth again, saying things it should not and being too familiar.

  Not that Nico seemed to mind, for he was stroking her earlobe and his eyes were telling of his desire.

  And the guard she had fought to keep up was dissolving, for she did not know how to be anyone other than the person she was. The person who was in love with him.

  He brought out the Aurora in her.

  ‘Aurora...’ Nico said, and she heard in the sound of him saying her name a summons to bed.

  She ached to turn her head just a fraction and kiss the palm that held her cheek, to give in to the bliss of him just one last time. To have Nico make love to her in Rome.

  He was leaving in the morning and would return only after she had left. This was their only chance, and Aurora did not know how to resist him.