An Italian Engagement

Max walked into the foyer just as Abby appeared, and gave a heartfelt vote of thanks to fate as he smiled down at the glowing face framed in a glossy fall of hair almost as dark as his brother’s. ‘A woman of her word,’ he commented, tapping his watch. ‘Dead on time. Are you still up for a stroll before dinner?’

‘I’m looking forward to it,’ Abby assured him. ‘My brother-in-law says it’s a very interesting city.’

‘He’s right.’ Seized by an overpowering need to touch her, he put a hand under her elbow as they walked to the car, wondering if she felt anything like the same jolt of heat as her bare skin came in contact with his fingers. ‘Todi’s big on walls, three concentric rings of them—medieval, Etruscan and Roman, with some magnificent ancient gates. But the Rome jet-set is fast catching up with Todi. Some of its medieval houses have been restored as weekend getaways.’

‘Your brother didn’t fancy one of those?’

He shook his head. ‘Gianni inherited the Villa Falcone from his father, complete with Rosa and her crew to look after him when he’s home from his travels. And when his presence is demanded in Venice he enjoys more pampering there from his mamma.’ He gave an approving glance at her flat gold sandals. ‘The streets are mostly cobbled, but I see you’re prepared for it.’

She nodded with enthusiasm. ‘The only part of Italy I’ve visited before is Venice.’

He smiled down at her as he held the car door open. ‘You’ll enjoy the contrast. We’ll park near the Piazza Oberdan. From there it’s a short climb to the church of San Fortunato and the best view of the city.’

Abby’s day had started early in Venice, with a ride by water taxi followed by several hours by rail before the ill-fated drive from Todi. But all that seemed a long way behind her as she explored the ancient, beautiful city with Max Wingate. The pace of life there seemed so much slower that Abby could literally feel herself unwinding as they came down from San Fortunato to wander through streets which Max told her had changed little in appearance or purpose for centuries. They looked at so much beautiful architecture as they strolled that by the time they reached the basilica in the Piazza del Populo Abby’s action-packed day had caught up with her and she agreed gratefully when Max suggested they walk down the Corso Cavour in search of dinner.

‘For your information, Todi’s medieval piazza is one of the most famous in Italy,’ he told her as they reached the restaurant.

‘I can well believe it. Todi’s a delightful place. I only wish I could stay here longer,’ she said with a sigh.

‘Come back when you have more time.’

‘I’d certainly like to,’ she said to be polite, but knew that it was unlikely. Any trips to Italy meant Venice and a stay with Laura, Domenico and Isabella. Plus the new baby.

‘Your eyes lit up like lamps just then,’ commented Max as they were shown to a table beside a screen of greenery. ‘What—or who—were you thinking about?’ He hoped like hell it wasn’t some man.

‘Marco, my nephew, and his sister Isabella,’ said Abby, smiling. ‘It was hard to tear myself away from them this morning.’

‘The only baby I’ve ever had much to do with was Gianni. But I was ten when he was born, and resented him pretty fiercely at the time. What sort of wine do you like?’ Max added as a waiter handed out menus.

‘Something dry and white, please—and some mineral water on the side.’ Abby smiled crookedly as the waiter hurried off. ‘This afternoon, stranded on your terrifying road, Mr Wingate, I would have sold my soul for water—for me and the car.’

His mouth tightened. ‘In the circumstances it’s lucky I’d arranged to play chess with Aldo Zanini. What the hell would you have done if I hadn’t turned up?’

A chess game, then, not a date with some local signorina. Taken aback by how much that pleased her, Abby shrugged. ‘Not much choice. I would have hiked—or climbed—the rest of the way. I had no idea I was on the wrong road, remember. What would you have done if I’d collapsed at your door, gasping for water?’

‘Counted my blessings,’ he assured her, giving her that smile again. ‘Other than Renata on her bicycle, no woman ever makes it up to my place. But you’re welcome any time, Abigail Green.’

The smile faded to something which made her pulse race as the dark eyes held hers, then the waiter arrived with wine and Max turned back to the menu. ‘What would you like to eat? They do a good tagliatelle al tartufo here—pasta with truffles.’

‘Sounds wonderful,’ she said promptly. ‘Though I’d probably fancy anything they cared to put in front of me—I had to skip lunch.’

‘Truffle pasta for two, then.’

After some olives and a mouthful of cold dry wine Abby felt considerably better, and settled down to enjoy the kind of evening which rarely came her way during the summer season. ‘So, Mr Wingate. When you’re not on retreat in your eagle’s nest where do you live?’

‘In Gloucestershire, in a town called Pennington. I own a house within walking distance of my office building—why the smile?’

She chuckled. ‘Would you believe I went to school in Pennington? I was brought up not far away from there in Stavely.’

Max shook his head in wonder. ‘So you’re a girl from the Shires—small world. But you’re obviously based in London now.’

‘And run home to Stavely every chance I get! You told me you’re an architect, but what kind of work does your firm do?’ asked Abby.

‘We design large-scale buildings, mainly, but we also do individual work for people with specific requirements, like a recent client left partially paralysed after a road accident. I worked with him to modify his house, and now he can cope with everything in it from his wheelchair.’

‘That must be a very satisfying thing to do,’ she said, impressed.

‘It is.’ He smiled wryly. ‘But I also do an increasing amount for clients brave—or mad—enough to invest in romantic ruins. My house out here is a good advertisement,’ he said, topping up her glass. ‘What led you into your kind of work?’

She shrugged. ‘Fate, I suppose—coupled with a love of music. I read English at university, took a further business studies course after that, and while I applied for jobs I worked at the local stately home.’

‘Do they get many graduates on their staff?’

Abby nodded. ‘Quite a few in summer. But I had a foot in the door because I’d worked there before in vacations. The summer I graduated I helped out with a series of open-air concerts at the house, and got on very well with Simon Hadley, the events organiser. His permanent assistant left to have a baby before the end of the season and to my surprise he asked if I’d like the job. But after four seasons I feel it’s time to move on. I finish in a couple of weeks.’

He eyed her narrowly. ‘I thought you promised to see Gianni next summer!’

She flushed. ‘I will see him. I’ll be there at the concerts, but someone else will take care of him.’

Max shook his head in mock reproof. ‘You mean you strung him along to make him sign on the dotted line.’

‘I was acting under instructions from Simon,’ she said firmly. ‘But I wasn’t lying. I’ll definitely be in the audience when he sings.’

‘But you won’t be Gianni’s nursemaid.’ He leaned nearer. ‘How do you know I won’t betray your secret?’

She met his eyes squarely. ‘I don’t. Will you?’

He shook his head. ‘I shall leave my little brother in blissful ignorance.’

‘Thank you.’ Abby sniffed rapturously as her truffle pasta was set before her. ‘Grazie,’ she said to the waiter with a warm smile. ‘Delizioso!’

‘The lad’s gone off in a daze,’ said Max, after the waiter had provided them with everything he could think of. ‘He thinks you’re delizioso too.’

‘Rather sweet, isn’t he?’

‘I didn’t notice. Eat. You can give me the rest of the Abigail Green life story afterwards.’

‘Only if you tell me Max Wingate’s in return,’ she retorted, and smiled very deliberately into his eyes. ‘Or should I call you “Massimo”?’

CHAPTER TWO

‘GIANNI’S little joke,’ Max said, resigned. ‘My mother insists on calling me that because it was her father’s name, but legally, and to everyone else, I’m Max.’

The waiter interrupted them to refill glasses with wine, but after a word from Max he left them in peace.

‘I don’t know what you said, but the poor boy looked really hurt,’ said Abby reproachfully.

Max shrugged, unrepentant. ‘Don’t worry—the “poor boy” will be back the minute you swallow your last mouthful.’

She laughed, and went on with her meal with concentration which amused her companion. She set down her fork at last with a sigh. ‘That was wonderful.’

‘How about dessert?’ said Max, rolling his eyes as the waiter hurried to their table.

‘No room,’ she said, trying not to laugh.

‘Then it’s back to your hotel. Unless you fancy another stroll around town?’

‘It’s certainly a delightful place,’ she said obliquely, wishing now that she’d agreed to dessert if it meant more time with Max Wingate. Did she like him that much, then? Who was she kidding? Of course she did! Once he’d simmered down after the fright she’d given him he’d gone out of his way to help a stranger who’d not only disrupted his day but who had also almost given him a heart attack in the process. Gianni oozed natural charm, but Max’s hard-edged persona appealed to her far more. There was something compelling about the dark, heavy-lidded eyes which gave her a shivery feeling every time they met hers.

‘What are you thinking about?’ he asked, so softly she had to crane to hear him above the noise and bustle of the restaurant.

Abby felt her face grow hot. ‘Just how kind and helpful you’ve been.’

He leaned nearer. ‘Don’t endow me with non-existent virtues! I was kind as a means to an end—to coax you to spend the evening with me.’

She eyed him quizzically. ‘Because you had to cancel your chess game?’

He shook his head. ‘Aldo’s the builder who worked with me on the house. I can play chess with him any time. When fate sent you up my road instead of Gianni’s only a fool would have passed up the chance to take advantage of it. And I may be many things, but I’m no fool, Abigail Green.’

‘I believe you!’

He sat back, studying her. ‘Do you get much hassle from the male celebrities you deal with?’

‘Sometimes it’s a bit tricky with the ones who forget they’re married, but nothing I can’t handle with tact—so far.’ Abby looked up with a smile for the waiter as he brought their espressos. ‘Generally I get on well with men.’

‘So I see!’

‘I meant the men I meet professionally. And the ones in college, too. Before that, in school, all my friends were girls. I was a real turn-off for the boys at that stage—too skinny, too tall and too much of a swot.’ She smiled philosophically. ‘But by the time I went up to Cambridge to university I’d filled out a bit, everyone else was clever—a lot of them much more than me—and my social life took off into the fast lane.’

‘I can well believe that!’ He got up, and held out his hand. ‘So, Miss Green. If you’ve finished your coffee and you can tear yourself away from our attentive waiter, let’s rejoin the evening passeggiata for a while.’

Under a full moon the city looked more romantic than ever. Warning her to beware of uneven cobbles in some of the darker streets, Max took Abby’s hand in his as they made a leisurely tour of some of the restored medieval houses, and after a while suggested they observe local custom and make for the gelateria across the park, to sample the local ice cream. ‘It’s very good—they make it with fresh fruit.’

‘I’m still full of that fabulous meal,’ Abby said with regret. ‘Could we just wander round a bit more instead?’

‘Anything you want,’ he assured her, surprised to find he meant it quite literally. It was a long time since he’d walked anywhere hand in hand with a girl, and never with one who appealed to him as much as Abigail Green. ‘Poor Gianni. This pastime is a simple pleasure he can’t enjoy any more in his home town—one of the downsides to celebrity.’

‘He must have a girlfriend, surely?’

Max nodded. ‘But so far he’s managed to keep her identity secret—even from his mother. Lord knows how. She thinks he tells her everything. Gianni confided in me because he was bursting to tell someone, but he wouldn’t give me a name—probably because she’s someone Luisa wouldn’t approve of.’

‘In what way?’

He shrugged. ‘In his mother’s eyes no woman in the world is good enough for Giancarlo Falcone.’

Abby eyed the aquiline profile curiously. ‘He calls her Mamma. You don’t.’

‘If you met her you wouldn’t believe she’s old enough to be Gianni’s mother, let alone mine.’ He smiled down at her. ‘How about you? What about your parents?’

‘My father died when I was little, so my mother brought us up almost single-handed. She’s due in Venice next week to meet her baby grandson.’ Abby smiled affectionately. ‘Mother thought it only right to let his Italian grandparents get their visit in first. They own a restored farmhouse not far from here. Laura and Domenico spent their honeymoon there.’

‘The ideal place for it.’ Max halted as clocks began chiming. ‘Alas, the witching hour. Time to get back to the car.’

Abby smiled warmly at him as they walked. ‘Thank you so much for dinner and the fascinating tour of Todi. I enjoyed every minute of it.’

His hand tightened on hers. ‘A pity you’re not staying longer so I could persuade you to do it all again.’

‘Perhaps you’ll come to one of the concerts in London before I finish.’

He shook his head. ‘If I do you’ll be too busy to spend time with me. How about dinner with me one night instead?’

Abby saw no point in being coy. ‘I’d like that very much.’

‘In that case—’ Max broke off as his phone rang. With a word of apology he listened for a moment before answering in fluent, irritable Italian. The heated conversation went on at length while he helped Abby into the car. When he finally slid into the driver’s seat Max gave her a wry smile. ‘My apologies. That was Gianni in full flow.’

‘Something wrong?’

‘As far as he’s concerned total disaster. Luisa’s taken it into her head to make a surprise visit to the Villa Falcone. She’s ordered Gianni to meet her off the train in Perugia tomorrow.’

‘He’s not happy with that?’

‘He’s devastated. She’s interrupting his idyll with the mystery lady.’

‘Ah! So was he asking you to fetch your mother instead?’

‘Practically begging. He’s desperate to spend every minute he can with the love of his life, so he implored me to help him out. If I fetch his mother from Perugia tomorrow afternoon he can spend a few extra hours with his innamorata.’ A smile played at the corners of his mouth. ‘I said I’ll ring him back to give my answer.’

‘So will you help him?’

‘I told him I had to sort something out first. You’re travelling by train to Pisa tomorrow for the flight to London?’

‘Yes,’ said Abby cautiously.

‘Then here’s the plan. I drive you to Perugia, and see you off on the train to Pisa before I meet the one from Venice.’ Max paused to gauge her reaction. ‘Afterwards I drive back to the Villa Falcone at a snail’s pace which, for entirely different reasons, will please both Luisa and Gianni. And somewhere along the way I’ll ring him with an ETA so he can pursue love’s young dream to the last possible moment.’ He grinned. ‘His mamma’s coming to make sure he gets enough sleep before the Rome engagement, with no idea that he wants to do his sleeping with Signorina X.’

Abby chuckled. ‘Oh, bad luck, Gianni! Are you willing to do that for him?’

‘Yes. What do you say? It’s one train connection less for you.’

‘Then I’ll say thank you very much indeed.’ She eyed him curiously. ‘Wouldn’t it be quicker for your mother to fly?’

He shrugged. ‘She won’t. She refuses to travel by road, either, if she can help it, which is why Enzo, my stepfather, bought the apartment in Venice. Water taxis and trains are Luisa’s preferred mode of travel. She’ll get a surprise when I turn up as chauffeur,’ he added. ‘She doesn’t even know I’m in the country.’

Abby was silent as they reached the hotel.

‘Penny for them?’ he said, turning to her.

‘I was just thinking that it’s very kind of you to drive me to Perugia tomorrow.’

His eyes locked on hers. ‘If it weren’t for Gianni and his love-life I’d drive you all the way to Pisa.’

Abby felt a lurch somewhere in the region of her midriff. ‘Just to Perugia will be a great help,’ she assured him.

‘In that case I’ll ring Gianni and tell him it’s on.’ Max began another rapid conversation with his brother, grinning broadly when he disconnected. ‘Gianni practically burst into song with gratitude.’

‘Will you take your mother up to your house first, to give him extra time with his lady?’

‘No. According to Luisa the journey there is bad for her heart.’

Abby chuckled. ‘I see her point, and there’s nothing wrong with my heart! I must go in,’ she added regretfully. ‘The train from Perugia leaves at eleven fifty-two, according to my timetable. What time will you pick me up?’

‘Ten sharp.’

‘Perfect. I can have a leisurely breakfast instead of rushing off to catch the local train. Thank you—again,’ she added, and smiled. ‘I seem to have said nothing else to you from the moment we met.’

‘Not quite,’ he said, and took her hand. ‘When I mistook you for one of Gianni’s fans you were ready to punch me.’

‘But I am a fan. I merely objected to the way you said it. Besides,’ she added, eyes kindling, ‘I’d just driven up those terrifying bends—on the wrong side of the road for me, remember—then the car broke down, and as the last straw this ball of flame came bursting out of the dust like something from an action film. I was petrified.’

‘So was I.’ He turned to look at her. ‘But once I could breathe normally again I realised I’d run into the best-looking damsel in distress a man could hope to meet.’

She eyed him narrowly. ‘I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or a sexist remark.’

‘It’s the simple truth.’ Max laughed, squeezed her hand, then went round the car to help her out. ‘I’ll see you safely inside, then get back to my retreat.’

* * *

The hotel bed was comfortable, but Abby lay awake for some time, her mind full of the eventful day which had begun with the surprisingly painful parting from her sister. Still at the mercy of her hormones, Laura had been a little tearful as she begged Abby to return soon and stay a lot longer. By that time, Domenico assured her, they would have moved into the new apartment with more rooms and a proper bed for Abby. After sharing a sofa with her little niece most of the night, Abby was glad to hear it. Isabella had needed much cuddling and reassurance to calm fears that Papa and Mamma wouldn’t love her so much now they had a new boy baby. Abby had relayed the news to Isabella’s shocked parents first thing next morning, and offered to look after baby Marco while they took their daughter out later for some kind of special treat.

‘You’re sure you’re up for this?’ Laura had asked before they left.

‘Of course I am. If he yells, Auntie will sing to him. That should shut him up. Ciao, Bella.’

Isabella held her face up, mouth puckered for a kiss. ‘Ciao, Zietta.’

Domenico grinned. ‘Ciao, Auntie. Do I get a kiss too?’

‘On the cheek,’ warned Laura.

‘Both cheeks,’ said her handsome husband, suiting action to words before turning to kiss his wife full on her smiling mouth.

‘For heaven’s sake, go while Marco’s quiet,’ hissed Abby, laughing. ‘You can do that sort of thing later.’

Abby smiled into the darkness. After providing a shoulder for more than one friend to cry on when a relationship went wrong, it was reassuring to know that everything was so obviously right with Laura’s marriage. Which was more than could be said for Max Wingate’s relationship with his mother. But it could hardly be sibling jealousy in his case, because he was obviously very fond of Gianni. Maybe he just didn’t like his mother, though blessed with Isabel Green as a parent this was hard for Abby to imagine. But perhaps Max had never forgiven his mother for marrying again—which probably had a lot to do with the hardness in his eyes…Abby tried to shut him from her mind. She needed her beauty sleep if she wanted to look good when Max arrived to collect her.

* * *

Abby got up early next morning to pack before her breakfast arrived. Just before ten she went down to the foyer to find Max waiting for her, elegant in linen trousers and a formal shirt with a tie tucked in the pocket.

‘Good morning,’ he said, smiling. ‘Did you sleep well?’

‘Very well—after two nights on a sofa it was a treat to sleep in a bed. I just need to pay my bill.’

‘No rush, I’m early. I’ll take your gear out to the car.’

When Abby went out to join him, Max was leaning against the Range Rover looking into the distance, the sun gleaming on his sleek dark hair. On impulse she slipped her phone from her bag and took a surreptitious photograph of him. A souvenir of her trip to Todi, she told herself, then put the phone away quickly as he turned to smile at her.

‘You’re more relaxed today,’ he commented later, as the car ate up the kilometres on the road to Perugia.

‘Not so much in the way of hairpin bends on this route,’ she pointed out. ‘Besides, we met in stressful circumstances yesterday.’

‘True.’ He grinned. ‘Right, then, Miss Green, fill me in on some background. You’ve heard a lot about my mother; tell me more about yours.’

Abby smiled affectionately. ‘She’s in her early fifties, but looks ten years younger. She’s head teacher at the local primary school, blonde like my sister Laura, and a very attractive lady.’

‘But she’s never presented you with a stepfather. Would you have minded if she had?’

Abby thought about it. ‘I don’t honestly know. The three of us were a pretty tight unit for years, and the cottage is small. Adding a stepfather to the mix could have caused problems, I suppose. But as far as I know the question never arose. Did you resent your stepfather?’ she added.

He shook his head. ‘I never thought of Enzo in that way because I lived with my own father in London. I just stayed at the Villa Falcone for the obligatory holiday every summer.’

‘Is that the most your father would allow?’

‘It was the most I would agree to at first.’

‘You didn’t like it there?’

‘It wasn’t the house. My feelings towards my mother were the problem.’ He paused, his eyes on the road, then glanced at her briefly and went on. ‘Luisa took a trip home alone to Todi just after my tenth birthday, met up with Enzo, childhood sweetheart transformed into wealthy businessman, and never came back.’

‘And you never forgave her?’

His mouth tightened. ‘I turned against her completely. I kicked up a terrible fuss when I eventually saw her again, because by then she had a new husband and a new baby.’

Abby kept quiet for a while, but curiosity eventually got the better of her. ‘If you don’t get on with your mother why did you build your retreat in Italy?’

‘I didn’t build it, exactly. I just designed the plans to put it back together. It had once been the home of Enzo Falcone’s great-grandparents, and during those long summer holidays he used to take us up there for picnics. I loved the place so much he made me a present of the property when I was eighteen.’ Max smiled crookedly. ‘He liked me. Against all odds I liked him, too. And, stranger still, so did my father. Whenever Enzo came on business to London, as he did quite frequently, he’d take us both out to dinner. And because I was studying architecture Enzo trusted me to transform his old ruin into something beautiful one day.’

‘You certainly did that. It’s a magical place.’

‘I’m glad you see it that way. Aldo the builder was all for knocking it down and starting from scratch, but to retain its character I wanted to incorporate as much of the original building as possible into my plans.’