The Italian Effect

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.’

‘You want a reward?’ she whispered, the words barely louder than the sound of the water around their bodies as she tried to come to terms with the idea that he might be flirting with her.

It took several seconds before she realised that her own question had sounded flirtatious, and that he’d taken it that way.

‘Of course I want a reward,’ he asserted warmly, his eyes flicking from her eyes to her mouth and back again.

Lissa’s tongue moistened lips gone suddenly dry and she realised that for the first time in several weeks the idea of kissing a man was appealing…this man.

‘Come out with me for a meal,’ he demanded suddenly and she blinked.

‘A meal?’ she repeated unsteadily, aghast at just how disappointed she was that he hadn’t kissed her. ‘But…’

‘I want to thank you properly for what you did for my son, so…may I collect you this evening?’

Gratitude.

Her spirits fell and drowned around her. Of course, the only reason why he was asking her out was out of gratitude for helping his son. How could she possibly have thought he was interested in her personally? He would have done the same if she’d been a man.

‘But won’t you be on duty?’ she asked, grabbing for the first excuse she could while she turned away from him and slid out of his arms. It was so easy this time that she knew he hadn’t tried to stop her.

‘The hospital has finally given me some time off for good behaviour,’ he said as he swam smoothly and silently beside her, easily keeping pace with her more nervous strokes. ‘So…will seven-thirty suit you? Taddeo will be going to bed early as he’s still officially recuperating.’

The part of her that had been so recently hurt wanted to turn him down with a pleasant excuse, but the rest of her, the part that had come to vibrant life when he’d wrapped her tightly against his body, was urging her to accept.

What else have you got to look forward to this evening? said an annoying little voice inside her head. Why turn down the invitation to share a meal with a handsome man, especially as you know in advance that he sees it merely as a way of repaying a debt? It isn’t as if there’s any danger of becoming involved in a relationship with him. You’re nothing more than chance acquaintances, after all.

‘Make it eight,’ she countered as her feet finally touched solid ground and she stood up to wade away from him through the shallows. ‘Taddeo told me he’s looking forward to his daddy reading a story to him tonight.’

She walked over to retrieve her towel, overwhelmingly conscious of his eyes following her, but her deliberate mention of his son had worked very effectively as a reminder.

For all the forbidden attraction she felt towards him, she was nothing more than a transient holidaymaker and he was the local doctor with a little son to consider. There was no way their two lives could ever do more than touch fleetingly.

‘There is a gentleman waiting for you in Reception,’ the voice had said over the phone and Lissa’s hands were shaking visibly as she smoothed them one last time over the dress she’d chosen.

It wasn’t that she was uncertain about the suitability of the style or its fit; the honey-coloured slip of silk was cut on fluid lines and was close to perfect. After all, her whole holiday wardrobe had been chosen with just such events in mind.

They just hadn’t been chosen for her to go out with this man.

It didn’t seem to matter that she kept reminding herself that she’d decided to steer clear of men for the foreseeable future, or that the offer of a meal was by way of showing his gratitude. For the last couple of hours her pulse and respiration had rocketed each time she’d thought about his invitation, and much though she felt she ought to cancel, she knew she had no intention of doing so.

‘He’s waiting,’ she muttered, conscious of time passing while she dithered, and a lifetime of punctuality wouldn’t allow her to delay any more.

‘You already know he’s totally out of bounds, so there’s absolutely no danger in spending an evening with him,’ she reminded herself, resorting to a pep talk in the descending lift. ‘He’s just a man.’

The doors slid open and her first sight of him gave the lie to her assertion. Her knees grew weak just at the sight of him waiting for her in the reception area and she had to admit that Matteo Aldarini wasn’t just anything.

It really wasn’t fair, she wailed silently as she gazed at him in something close to despair.

He was wearing dark formal trousers that accentuated the long lean length of his legs and his slim hips, and an open-necked white shirt that contrasted starkly with the bronze of his skin. The suit jacket was casually suspended over one shoulder by the loop, but there was nothing casual in the expression in his eyes as they travelled over her from head to toe and back again.

‘Che bella!’ he murmured finally as he took her hand and lifted it to his lips, then brought it through the crook of his arm. He turned to usher her towards the door without taking his eyes from her. ‘I will be the envy of every man tonight.’

There was a heat in his gaze that almost seemed to scorch where it touched and she was quite grateful for the shadows once they were outside. Perhaps he wouldn’t see the heat in her cheeks that betrayed just how much he was affecting her.

The meal was everything she could have wished, and more.

How could she fail to enjoy an evening spent in the company of such an attentive host? From the moment they were shown to their secluded table and he held her chair for her everything was so perfect it was almost a fantasy.

It didn’t matter that she’d sworn never to be swayed by externals again. She’d already had her trust broken that way once.

But somehow this was different. The surroundings, the food, the music…everything was wonderful, but it all paled into insignificance before the man beside her.

His conversation was witty and erudite and not only did he take the time to ask her questions about herself, he actually listened to her answers with obvious interest.

It had been so long since that had happened that she felt herself relaxing and opening up like some rare flower under the warmth of his regard.

All too soon their meal was over and he was ushering her out into the starry darkness.

He could have wrapped an arm around her shoulders, making the excuse that the evening air might seem chill after the warmth of the restaurant. To her disappointment he seemed perfectly content to walk beside her, their only contact her hand on his arm.

He paused as they neared her hotel, just a few minutes farther along the sea front.

‘Is it too late for you to take a walk with me?’ he asked quietly with a gesture towards the beach beside them, and she had to suppress the urge to shout her agreement. She certainly wasn’t ready for their evening to end just yet.

He must have taken her hesitation for uncertainty.

‘Of course, if you’d rather I took you straight back to your hotel…’

‘No!’ she exclaimed, then added hastily, ‘No, a walk would be nice after all that food. I wouldn’t be able to sleep yet.’

He turned towards the nearest path that led in a shallow zigzag down to the sand.

It was hard to believe that it was the same busy, noisy place that she’d visited earlier that day.

By night it was all but silent and deserted, only nature providing the sounds.

At the end of the zigzag he stopped to slip off his shoes and socks and roll up his trouser legs.

‘Shall I help you?’ He crouched in front of her and wrapped warm fingers around one ankle.

She braced a hand on his shoulder and slipped each sandal off in turn, glad that she’d decided to go barelegged tonight. It wouldn’t have fitted into the moonlit fantasy to have to struggle to remove tights or stockings in front of him.

‘We can leave our shoes here,’ he suggested, placing both pairs in a patch of dark shadow beside some rocks and folding his jacket on top of them before he straightened up again and held out a silent hand.

In unspoken agreement they turned towards the water and walked until their feet found the hard-packed sand before they changed direction to follow the edge of the waves.

The sea was calm tonight, far calmer than her turbulent thoughts. Inside her head an argument was raging, with one part of her longing to spend more time with this fascinating charismatic man, while the other urged her to keep her vow of caution and restraint.

There was no argument about the fact that she was regretting that their evening together was nearly over.

They’d walked all the way to the rocks at the far end of the beach before he paused beside her to stare out over the sea. Without a word being spoken they stood side by side, the breeze gently fluttering hair and clothing, and she was aware of a strange feeling of contentment.

‘I wasn’t ready for the evening to end,’ he said quietly, finally breaking the silence. ‘I hope you don’t mind.’

Lissa was so startled to hear him voice her own feelings that she wasn’t quick enough to keep a check on her tongue.

‘Neither was I,’ she admitted fervently, then could have kicked herself. What on earth was wrong with her? Over the last few weeks she thought she’d become adept at hiding her thoughts and feelings from others. Surely an evening in his company wasn’t enough for her to lose that hard-won control. She’d really hoped that she’d learned not to reveal her thoughts so impetuously.

How humiliating to lapse now, she groaned silently, turning her face away. And he was probably only being his usual polite self, telling her what he thought she wanted to hear…

‘Ah, Melissa, it’s more than that!’ he exclaimed, breaking into her scrambled thoughts as he turned her back to face him. ‘Tell me that you feel it, too—this crazy attraction between us.’

He captured each of her hands in his and pressed them against the soft cotton covering his chest.

She was so overwhelmed by his unexpected exclamation and so aware of the warmth of his body and the rhythmic beat of his heart that she almost missed his next words.

‘Do you not know that ever since I saw you standing there in the hospital, all long bare legs and big dark eyes, you have filled my mind…my thoughts.’ He brought her hands up to his lips and pressed a kiss to each.

Lissa was lost for words, her own heart beating so loudly that she was sure he must be able to hear it over the sound of the sea.

‘But this is so crazy,’ he continued, his tone almost one of exasperation. ‘We’re not teenagers to be overtaken by lust in the blink of an eye. We’re both responsible professional people. This can’t be real.’

‘You’re right. It is crazy,’ she said, trying to hang on to logic in the face of almost overwhelming temptation. How was she supposed to resist when he was looking at her like that?

‘Matt, we only met a few days ago and under the most fraught conditions.’ She tried to pull her hands free but he wouldn’t release her, forcing her to stay close enough to breathe in the musky warmth of his body. It certainly didn’t help as she tried to put her thoughts into words.

‘I’m just a visitor here,’ she continued, trying to be logical. ‘And I certainly didn’t come here looking for a holiday fling.’ Ah, but the thought of it was so beguiling. For the first time, she could almost identify with those groups of girls she’d been watching.

‘I never thought it for a moment,’ he agreed gently. ‘I’ve seen the young men lurking on the beach and in the square. It’s probably the same in the discos and nightclubs, although it’s years since I last bothered to go.’

It was almost uncanny how closely his thoughts had mirrored her own and when the silence grew between them she somehow knew that he was wondering where they went from here, too. He was still holding her hands against his chest and she drew comfort from the fact that he hadn’t released her.

‘Can we be friends?’ she suggested quietly, but without much hope that he would agree. He was such a strong, decisive sort of man, so vibrant, that she was afraid he wouldn’t be interested in half-measures like friendship.

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