The Italian Effect

‘It would be a shame to hide such beauty,’ he said in a low voice and she glimpsed a sudden unnerving flash of heat in his dark eyes. ‘But perhaps it would be safer.’

An hour later, Lissa’s pulse still tended to miss a beat when she thought about the startling potency of that glance. The only way she’d been able keep it under some sort of control was to concentrate on her little charge.

It had been a major undertaking to dredge up enough Italian to make herself understood, especially as those long conversations with her grandmother had never covered such topics as ‘make sure you leave the towels in position around his head until you’ve taken the X-ray of his neck’.

Along the way, she found several members of staff who spoke good English—better than her Italian, at any rate—and was able to ask some tactful questions. By the time she’d collected the evidence that Taddeo had suffered no broken or cracked bones, she’d also started to build up a picture of why the accident and emergency department was in such chaos.

‘Dr Aldarini, would you like to set your mind at rest?’ she invited when she finally managed to track him down with the developed X-ray plates.

He pounced on them so eagerly that Lissa was glad that she’d thought to bring them down to him. It was obvious that he’d been worrying about his son in spite of the fact that he was still rushed off his feet.

While he scrutinised each plate minutely, she did the same to him, wondering just what it was about this man, rumpled and exhausted as he was, that set up this strange electric tingle inside her. She couldn’t remember having had anything quite like it happen to her before and it was totally inappropriate. Not only was she in Italy for rest and recuperation in the wake of the disaster of the last few months, but this man was obviously a pillar of the local community. He was probably a very loving husband to the pretty young wife she’d had to leave behind at the beach and he was definitely a concerned parent.

She made herself drag her eyes away from him to gauge how many patients there were still waiting for attention.

None seemed to be victims of the outbreak of food-poisoning she’d heard about. Apparently, there had been some sort of welcoming buffet at one of the larger hotels a little way along the coast, resulting in nearly fifty people suffering the effects of the flouting of hygiene regulations in the kitchen.

‘Where is Taddeo now?’ Dr Aldarini demanded when he finished scrutinising the plates, and she turned to face him again. ‘Is he on his way back down here?’

‘I hope you don’t think I was throwing my weight around, but…he came round while the X-rays were being taken and the radiographer and I decided he would probably be better off under supervision in the children’s ward. Apparently the paediatrician already knows him there?’

His mouth twisted into a wry grin. ‘Unfortunately, too well,’ he agreed. ‘The last time he was here was several months ago when he came off his bicicletta and broke his arm.’ He shook his head. ‘He has no fear, that one. He will give me white hair.’

Her eyes travelled over the thick dark strands but couldn’t see any evidence that it was happening yet. All she noticed was the fact that his hair was just long enough to reveal the same existence of a tendency to unruly curls as his son had inherited.

‘The paediatrician said that as he’d been unconscious for so long, he’ll keep Taddeo here overnight under observation. He’ll speak to you when you have time to call, but he was cautiously optimistic…the way doctors always are. Oh, and I have no idea how you’ll get in contact with your wife to let her know what’s happening. She was very upset, but I had to leave her behind at the beach. You’ll need to put her mind at rest about Taddeo.’

She couldn’t help thinking that the young woman she’d left at the beach seemed absurdly young to be married to such a man as this—still dynamic in spite of his exhaustion. And it wasn’t just because he’d made her pulse leap when she’d been determined not to have anything to do with men for the foreseeable future.

‘Taddeo has no mother,’ he announced bluntly, his voice as hard as stone for all his attractive accent. ‘Maddelena is the daughter of a colleague.’

Now, why on earth should his brusque words send a shaft of pleasure through her? she thought crossly. Why should it matter that the man wasn’t married? For all she knew, he might be involved in a relationship with Maddelena, although his tone of voice didn’t make it sound likely.

Anyway, it was none of her business. Her fleeting connection with the man would be over as soon as she found some way of returning to her hotel.

‘Do you have a car, or may I give you a lift somewhere?’ he asked suddenly, almost as if he’d been reading her mind. ‘I will be free as soon as I’ve visited my son.’

She hesitated, torn between the strange feeling that she should get as far away from this man as possible and the equally strong desire to spend just a little longer in his company. In the end, practicality tipped the balance.

‘I would be grateful for a lift,’ she replied, equally politely. ‘I travelled here with Taddeo, so my car is miles away.’

‘After your actions today, it is the least I can do,’ he said sincerely and gestured towards the bank of lifts. She found herself automatically falling into step beside him as he made his way towards the paediatric department.

Taddeo was almost asleep by the time they reached his bedside, and apparently completely unconcerned by the fact that he was in hospital. He seemed far more interested in quizzing his father about a promised outing.

‘Dormire,’ murmured his father patiently as he smoothed a soothing hand over tousled dark hair.

Lissa watched, entranced, as he tried to persuade little Taddeo to go to sleep. He was such a very masculine man and yet he was so gentle with his young son.

The two of them were so similar that she would have known that they were father and son without being told. They both had the same dark brown eyes fringed by impossibly long lashes and the same dark hair prone to unruly curls.

Their skin was the same dark golden colour, and Taddeo would probably one day sport the same dark shadow of an emerging beard that she could see on his father’s jaw.

Even the shape of the jaw was similar, lean and slightly angular for all that the child was so much younger, and they both possessed the same knack of smiling with their eyes as well as their mouths.

Her eyes were travelling from one to the other, silently comparing and contrasting while she watched the interaction between father and son. Finally, one set of dark lashes drooped for the last time and a gentle kiss was pressed to a tousled head.

The sight of the man’s lean tanned fingers sent a shaft of something close to jealousy through Lissa when she saw how tenderly they cupped the curve of Taddeo’s little cheek, and she was startled by the unexpected feeling.

This isn’t what you want, she reminded herself sharply as she took a step backwards from the loving scene. Don’t let your guard down if you want to protect your heart. Don’t get involved, no matter how enticing the temptation.

‘Have you lived in Italy very long?’ he asked when they were finally on their way.

Lissa gave a silent sigh of relief at the thought that she wasn’t going to have to try to start a conversation. At least he was willing to make the effort.

‘Actually, it’s my first visit,’ she admitted. ‘I’ve been wanting to come for years…all my life, in fact.’

‘So this is why you have learned to speak Italian?’ he demanded, reverting to his own tongue but speaking rather slower than usual to accommodate her. ‘In the hope that one day you would be able to visit?’

Lissa laughed and took his lead, switching to her slightly rusty Italian. ‘Not quite. I learned to speak Italian so that I could talk to my grandmother. When I was small, I thought Nonna couldn’t understand English. It was years before I realised that she didn’t miss a thing in either language!’

He laughed with her. ‘So this is just a brief holiday, to get a taste of Italy?’ he suggested.

She’d given him the name of her hotel before they’d set off, so Lissa could see how he would have come to that conclusion.

‘Partly,’ she agreed, ‘but also to explore this part of the country because it was the area Nonna’s family came from.’

‘So, you’re going to have a very busy week sightseeing. It was lucky for Taddeo that you had a few minutes spare to visit the beach. If you hadn’t been there…’

‘Then someone else would have taken care of him,’ she said, slightly uncomfortable with the open emotion in his voice at the thought of his son’s accident. ‘You know how much Italian people love children. Those people offered to help me get him off the beach and transport him to hospital without hesitation, lending towels, belts and even that surfboard to protect his back.’

‘Even so, I thank you…’ He paused with a frown and concentrated for a second on parking his car in front of the hotel then turned to face her. ‘How can I thank you properly if I can’t even remember the name in your passport?’ He held out his hand. ‘I am Matteo Aldarini, at your service and for ever in your debt.’

‘Melissa Swift,’ Lissa supplied, along with her hand, disappointed but not surprised that her name hadn’t registered in the heat of the moment.

‘Melissa. Sweet as honey,’ he murmured as he wrapped long fingers around hers.

Suddenly she was aware that the two of them were alone in the intimacy of the darkened car and all she could think of was the contact between their palms and his dark eyes looking down into hers.

CHAPTER TWO

MATTEO’S hand felt warm and strong, but the strength was carefully tempered…unlike some men Lissa knew who took a delight in grinding her bones together in a show of masculine power.

She’d only met the man a short while ago under the most stressful of conditions but she had a feeling that he would never need to resort to such petty tricks to prove his masculinity.

But it was his eyes that held her captivated, their dark brown depths almost black in the shadowed interior of the car as he gazed at her.

‘Today was a dreadful day after a dreadful night,’ he murmured, his words taking on a distracted air. ‘You might have heard that one of the local hotels has apparently had an outbreak of food poisoning. Some patients were coming to us so sick that they were already dehydrated, but as fast as we found beds for them and put fluids into them, more people arrived.’

He shook his head with a soft groan and dropped it back against the headrest but instead of releasing her hand, he tightened his fingers around hers, almost as if he needed the contact.

‘I was still trying to organise the last group and waiting for the victims of a car crash to arrive,’ he continued with the suspicion of a smile at the corner of his mouth, ‘when a bossy woman in a swimming costume carried my unconscious son into the hospital and started to tell me my job.’

‘I didn’t!’ she objected automatically, not sure that she liked the idea that he thought she was bossy.

The fact that he’d noticed what she’d been wearing was a different matter and his mention of it brought a swift wash of heat to her cheeks.

At least he couldn’t still see her costume. It was well hidden under the oversized white coat he’d found for her. For all that it was summer in Italy, by this time of night she could have been feeling rather chilly, not to say embarrassed, running around in beachwear.

‘Well…thank you for giving me a lift.’ She hurried into speech, suddenly realising that he was probably waiting for her to remember her manners. She tried to pull her hand away but he was apparently as reluctant to release her as she was to be released.

‘I would like to see you again,’ he said in a husky voice, and her heart gave a silly skip. Had he been affected by the same feeling of attraction, unwelcome though it was?

‘Of course, it will depend on the situation at the hospital,’ he continued apologetically. ‘We are really far too small to deal with large outbreaks of anything major. In spite of the holidaymakers, for half of the year this is just a quiet little town, but I would like the chance to thank you for taking care of Taddeo.’

She was still lecturing herself for her presumption as she let herself into her room.

‘Of course he was only suggesting taking you out as a thank you for helping his son,’ she scolded as she stripped off the baggy white coat and made her way to the shower. ‘Do you really think a man like that would be hard up for company? He’s hardly the type to be interested in short-term relationships with summer visitors—not like those lads on the beach.’

She’d tried to save face by telling him that thanks weren’t necessary but he’d been adamant. In the end, they’d left it that he would contact her when his work permitted.

Silently, she had decided that she would be ‘too busy’ to take him up on the invitation. He was an attractive and clearly very intelligent man and she would probably have thoroughly enjoyed spending an evening with him. Except…her reaction to the idea that he might be interested in her was ringing warning bells inside her head, reminding her that the last thing she wanted while she was in Italy was to get involved in a relationship…even a very short-term one.

She’d intended staying under the shower until she was utterly waterlogged but a few minutes later she was out and towelling her hair dry, too restless to unwind even under the steaming spray.

The evening was still relatively young by Italian standards, but she didn’t really know what she wanted to do.

The idea of going out to a restaurant by herself didn’t appeal somehow, and neither did dancing at the disco at the hotel at the other end of the parade. She’d stuck her head around the door last night and realised that she would probably be one of the oldest women in the room. Their average age seemed to be little more than eighteen, and as for the music…

Lissa sighed then grimaced, remembering the days when her parents used to complain about her own choice of music. Did this mean that she was rapidly becoming middle-aged at only twenty-eight years of age?

She pulled on some lightweight trousers and a cotton top then reached for the phone, resigned to the idea of room service and a book. It wouldn’t do her any harm to have an early night after all the excitement of the day. She could start her holiday afresh tomorrow and hopefully be in a better frame of mind for it.

‘Here we are again,’ Lissa muttered as she flopped back on her towel, her sunglasses firmly in position.

It was actually two days since Taddeo’s accident, but everything around her looked and sounded exactly the same…even the ice-cream van playing ‘Greensleeves’.

It wasn’t that the accident had put her off the idea of spending time on the beach; she hadn’t been particularly keen in the first place. In fact, she’d picked up some of the literature supplied in her room that detailed the various local attractions, and had spent the intervening time exploring a little.

The trouble was, finding the village where her grandmother had grown up wasn’t nearly as satisfying without someone to share it with. Nor was her enjoyment of a particularly stunning view or the series of ancient frescos she’d discovered in a tiny church.

If all had gone as she’d expected, there should have been two of them spending their days, and their nights, together.

‘Sightseeing on my own was a bit of a washout,’ she muttered under her breath as she put the bottle of sunscreen away in her bag. ‘Perhaps I’ll have a bit more luck getting into the holiday mood with all these happy people all around me.’

She rolled over onto her stomach and propped her chin on her folded arms while she gazed around.

‘It’s uncanny,’ she murmured as her eyes went from one group to another. ‘It’s almost as if the world has stood still since I was here the first time. Absolutely nothing has changed while I’ve been away.’

There were the same family groups, the same honeymooners still besotted with each other, the same group of predatory young men eyeing the scantily clad girls giggling their way across the beach.

‘No. Something has changed!’ she exclaimed under her breath in mock surprise when she heard the accents of the target of the young men’s comments. ‘They’re after new prey today—Scandinavian, perhaps?’

She wondered idly what had happened to the group of English girls being pursued last time she was here. Had they succumbed to the false smiles and well-practised lines, or had they seen through them in time?

‘Signorina?’ said a voice nearby. ‘Mi scusi. Sei medica?’

Lissa groaned silently as she rolled over and sat up. That was all she needed…another medical problem on a beach this far from proper hospital facilities. It must be someone who had recognised her from the other day.

She looked up at the young woman standing in front of her and suddenly realised that she recognised her.

‘Maddelena!’ she exclaimed, rising to her feet and finding herself wrapped in a fervent hug. ‘How is Taddeo? Is he well?’

‘Si. He is well. We have brought him back to the beach with the whole family so that he will have good memories. Come and see.’ She grabbed Lissa’s hand and gestured towards the other side of the beach. ‘He is over there with my mother. Come. You must join us.’

Lissa paused just long enough to grab her belongings then threaded her way through the various groups of holidaymakers towards an older woman waving a welcoming hand.

Introductions were made and Lissa found herself once more enveloped in an enthusiastic embrace.

‘What would we have done if you hadn’t been here to take care of our Taddeo?’ Maddelena’s mother exclaimed. ‘How can we thank you enough?’

Lissa tried to downplay her contribution, but she wasn’t having it.

‘No, no! We think you’re a heroine!’ she exclaimed, gesturing towards the rest of the family for confirmation. ‘Please…sit. Join us!’

It wasn’t long before they were also trying to bully her into joining them for some fast and furious games on the beach. Maddelena’s brothers and sisters and cousins were numerous enough to form two complete opposing teams.

With Taddeo only recently released from hospital, it was inadvisable for him to be involved in quite that much rough and tumble, so Lissa opted for keeping Taddeo occupied with Maddelena’s mother.

Soon enough the whole family rejoined them on the array of blankets and deck-chairs for the most sumptuous of picnics and a lazy hour of recuperation while she was regaled with numerous tales of family misdeeds and successes.

It was no hardship to listen when she realised just how often Matteo Aldarini’s name was included, in spite of the fact that he wasn’t actually a member of the family.

‘That’s my daddy,’ Taddeo had announced proudly the first time it had happened and she’d smiled at him. She’d been quite surprised to find out that although the youngster couldn’t remember much of the accident, he seemed to remember her quite clearly from her visit to his bedside in the paediatric ward.

‘He told me you carried me to his hospital on a surfboard when I hit my head,’ Taddeo continued, chattering so brightly that it was obvious that he’d suffered few after-effects from his mishap. ‘I fell on those rocks.’ He pointed at the wicked piles of broken limestone that could so easily have been the cause of his death.

Unfortunately, the sparkle in his eyes suggested that he was the sort of daredevil child whose accident wouldn’t put him off the next reckless challenge.

‘Who’s going swimming?’ demanded one of the cousins and there was a noisy response as everyone erupted from their lazy relaxation.

‘Will you swim with me?’ Taddeo demanded with a grin. ‘I’m good. I bet I can race you.’

A quick glance at Maddelena confirmed that he’d been cleared to swim.

‘I’ll look after him,’ Lissa promised and they were off across the beach at a run.

He launched himself into the waves with a shriek almost as soon as the water came up to his knees and it was soon obvious that his words hadn’t been an idle boast. He wouldn’t have to be able to swim much faster before he could beat her, legitimately. She’d only had to shorten her stroke slightly to allow him to pull ahead of her.

‘You swim like a fish!’ she exclaimed when they came up for air at the float anchored a little way out from shore. ‘How old were you when you learned?’

‘My daddy took me in the sea when I was just a baby. Only one year old. He said I was like a baby frog.’

‘Taddeo the tadpole,’ she said in English and chuckled, remembering that ‘Taddy’ was the nickname her mother had called her when she’d been learning to swim.

‘What is a tadpole?’ he demanded. She racked her brain for a moment but couldn’t remember the Italian word although she was sure her grandmother must have taught her once upon a time.

‘I’ll tell you when we go back on the beach,’ she promised, knowing that there was a dictionary in her bag. ‘Are you going to race me back? I need to practise.’

She could see that several of the younger members of the family had started to build an ambitious sand castle and thought that would probably be better for the youngster than too much swimming. At least he would be no more than a few steps from the blankets if he grew tired.

Not that he seemed lacking in energy as he ploughed his way through the water beside her.

Lissa was watching him so closely that she didn’t see another figure approaching so that when the water burst into a fountain beside her and Taddeo’s body was thrust right up into the air she gave a shriek and sank under the surface.

She’d swallowed several mouthfuls and was coughing and spluttering by the time she surfaced to find Taddeo suspended from his father’s hands and screeching with delight.

‘I am so sorry,’ his father said remorsefully as he reached out a hand to support her, Taddeo held against one broad shoulder with the other. ‘I wanted to surprise my son and I didn’t realise you hadn’t seen me coming.’

She couldn’t speak for a moment, having to concentrate all her energies on drawing her next breath without coughing.

‘Are you all right? Do you want me to help you to the beach?’ He must have put the child back in the water because now he had pulled her into his arms and was supporting her against his body.

Lissa shook her head as she heaved in another breath and realised with gratitude that it wasn’t going to trigger another bout.

‘I’ll be all right,’ she gasped and looked up into his face for the first time, straight into the dark intensity of deep brown eyes shot with unexpected streaks of gold.

Even in his car she hadn’t been this close to him and when she realised just how much contact there was between their nearly naked bodies she grew still.

As she was still out of her depth, he was supporting her in the water and she could feel the movement of every muscle in his powerful legs and lean torso as he controlled their combined weight. And he was so warm, his skin a deep bronze against her lighter gold with a dark swathe of wet hair spread right across the width of his chest.

‘I…I’m all right,’ she stammered and tried to lean away from the disturbing contact, but there was nothing to push against except him and her legs tangled between his, making the contact even more intimate. ‘If you let me go, I’ll swim back to shore.’

She glanced in that direction and saw that Taddeo had already reached the beach and joined the sandcastle construction crew.

‘But what if I don’t want to let you go?’ he murmured in a husky voice and tightened his arms fractionally.

Her eyes flew back to his in surprise. Not want to let her go? What was he saying?

‘Some of my ancestors were fishermen,’ he continued, the deep rumble of his voice reaching her through the contact between their bodies as much as through the air. She almost felt as if she was aware of him with every fibre of her body. ‘If a fisherman rescues a mermaid he would never just let her go without making sure she was all right. Then, if he’s lucky, she’ll reward him for taking care of her.’