Instead nothing was all right. His response had been so bleak that she’d fled after a few minutes, and was now back in Florence, pacing the floor of her hotel room.
The paper she’d left him had contained both the hotel details and the number of her cell phone. He would call her soon, and they would settle it. But as time passed with no call, she faced the fact that she was alone again.
Another desert.
As the light faded she sat at the window, looking out at the old city. Her room overlooked the beautiful river Arno, with a clear view of the Ponte Vecchio, ‘the old bridge,’ which had stood there for over a thousand years. It was lined with shops on both sides, at one time a common Italian habit. But that convention had faded, and now the Ponte Vecchio was almost unique in still having them. They were lit up, dazzling and golden against the night air, flooding the water with light.
On impulse she determined to go down and explore the bridge. She would take her cell phone. Lucio could call that number if he wanted to contact her. But if he didn’t, he needn’t think she was going to languish here waiting for him to deign to give her his attention.
In a moment she was downstairs and out of the door, heading for the street that ran along the river. Despite the lateness of the hour she was far from alone. Couples strolled slowly, absorbed in each other or leaning over the wall to gaze at the water before turning to meet each other’s eyes.
At last she reached the bridge and walked halfway across to where there was a gap in the shops and she could look out over the dazzling water. On either side of her couples murmured, pleading, suggesting, happy.
Happy, she thought. Was it really possible to be happy in love?
And what was love anyway?
Briefly she’d thought she’d discovered the answer with Don, but she knew differently now. Not just because he’d let her down, but because in one devastating night with Lucio she’d discovered something that had reduced all other experiences to nothing.
Gazing down into the shimmering water, she seemed to be back in the hotel room, hearing the sound of the door close, feeling him move close. How warm his breath had been on her face, how gladly she had drawn closer to him, raising her head to receive his kiss.
She could still feel his mouth on hers, silencing the last of her doubts. Until then the voice of reason had whispered that she mustn’t do this with a man she’d only just met. It wasn’t proper behaviour. But the gentle, skilful movements of his lips had conquered her. Propriety had never meant much to her. In his arms it meant nothing at all.
It was obvious that he was a ladies’ man, but he’d undressed her with an air of reverent discovery that made her feel special. Of course this was merely part of his expertise, she’d guessed, but it was hard to be realistic when his eyes on her were full of astonished worship.
He’d removed her dress, but before stripping her completely he’d tossed aside his jacket and shirt. There were no lights on in the room but enough came through the window to reveal his smooth, well-shaped chest and arms. Lying beside her on the bed, he’d drawn away her slip and bra, leaving only her briefs.
Then he’d smiled.
Something in that smile had made her reach for him and begin pulling at his clothes until he wore no more than she did. Now she, too, was smiling. This man was going to prove a skilful lover. Every instinct she had told her that was true.
His body was marvellous, muscular but lean and taut, hinting at strength that could bring a woman joy. Almost tentatively she slipped her fingers beneath the edge of his briefs.
Incredibly there was a question in his eyes, almost as though he was asking her even now if she had any doubts. Her reply was to tighten her grip, silently ordering him to strip naked. He obeyed and did the same for her, then stayed looking down at her, letting his fingertips drift across her breasts.
His caress was so light that he could barely be said to be touching her at all, yet the thunderous pleasure that went through her was like a storm. How could so much result from so little? she wondered frantically. Then all thought was forgotten in the delight that possessed her.
No man touched a woman so subtly without first understanding her, not just her body but traces of her heart and mind. Instinct from deep inside told her so, and everything in her responded to him. She couldn’t have prevented that response even if she’d wanted to, but she didn’t want to. Nothing was further from her desire than to resist him. In that magical moment she was all his, and all she wanted was to make him all hers.
Afterwards, he kissed her tenderly, stroking her hair as sleep began to claim her, and she felt herself drifting away into the sweet, warm darkness.
At the very last moment he whispered, ‘You’re wonderful.’
The night descended totally before she could respond, but that soft tribute lingered with her in the mysterious other universe where there was rest, peace and joy.
But when she awoke, he was gone.
The memory of the murmured words tormented her. Had she imagined them, or had he really said such a thing before abandoning her? Again and again she went over the moment, racking her brain to know whether it was true memory or only fantasy born of wishful thinking. The search nearly drove her crazy, but she found no answer.
In the weeks that followed she’d known that she could have loved him if he’d given any sign of wanting her love. Instead he’d rejected her so brutally that she’d come close to hating him.
It was cruelly ironic that her two encounters with Lucio had both been under circumstances that suggested romance. First the Trevi Fountain where lovers laughingly gambled on their love, and where she’d been tempted to gamble beyond the boundaries of both love and sense. Now she was in another city so enchanting that it might have been designed for lovers. But instead of revelling in the company of a chosen man she was alone again. Unwanted. Looking in from the outside, as so many times before in her life.
But enough was enough. This was the last time she would stand outside the magic circle, longing for a signal from within; the last time she would wait for a man to make up his mind. Her mind was made up, and he could live with it.
She almost ran back to the hotel. At the desk she stopped just long enough to ask, ‘Any message for me? No? Right. I’m checking out in half an hour. Kindly have my bill ready.’
In her room she hurled things into the suitcase, anxious to lose no time now the decision was made. Her next step was vague. A taxi from the hotel to the railway station, and jump on the next train to—? Anywhere would do, as long as it was away from here.
At the desk the bill was ready. It took only a moment to pay it, seize up her baggage and head for the door. Outside she raised her hand to a taxi on the far side of the road, which immediately headed for her.
‘Where to?’ the driver called.
‘Railway station,’ she called back.
‘No,’ said a voice close by. Then a hand came out of the darkness to take her arm, and the same voice said, ‘Thank goodness I arrived in time.’
She jerked her head up to see Lucio.
‘Let me go,’ she demanded.
‘Not yet. First we must talk. Charlotte, neither of us should make hasty decisions. Can’t you see that?’ He laid his other hand on her shoulder. His touch was gentle but firm. ‘You’re not being fair, vanishing like this,’ he said. ‘I trusted you. Perhaps I shouldn’t have done.’
‘Perhaps I shouldn’t have trusted you. I gave you the chance. I told you what had happened. You could have done anything but you chose to do nothing. Fine! I get the message.’
‘There’s no message. I was confused, that’s all. It took me a while to get my head around it, but I thought at least you’d stay one night—give me a few hours to think.’
‘What is there to think about?’ she demanded passionately. ‘The baby’s here, inside me, waiting to be born and change everything. You’re either for that or against it.’
He made a wry face. ‘You really don’t understand much about human weakness, do you? I didn’t jump to your command at once, so you thought you’d make me sorry.’
‘That’s nonsense,’ she said, but she knew a moment’s discomfort at how close he’d come.
‘I don’t think so. Look, let’s put this behind us. We have too much at stake to risk it with a quarrel.’ He addressed the driver. ‘Leave the bags. Here.’
He held out a wad of cash which the driver pocketed and fled.
‘You’ve got a cheek,’ she said indignantly.
‘Not really. I’m taking a big gamble. I didn’t anticipate you leaving without giving me a fair chance. I thought you’d wait for me to pull my thoughts together.’
‘All right, maybe I was a bit hasty,’ she said reluctantly.
‘I wonder if it will always be like that with us, each of us going in opposite directions.’
‘I think that sounds an excellent idea,’ she said. ‘If I had any sense I’d go in another direction right this minute.’
‘But if you had any sense,’ he replied wryly, ‘you wouldn’t have wasted time on me in the first place.’
‘I guess you’re right.’
‘But since you did, and since the world has changed, isn’t it time we talked to each other properly. There’s a little café just along there where we can have peace. Will you come with me?’
She hesitated only a moment before taking his hand and saying, ‘Yes. I think perhaps I will.’
CHAPTER THREE
AFTER dumping her bags in his car Lucio indicated the road that ran along the side of the river. ‘It’s not far. Just a quiet little place where we can get things sorted.’
But when they reached the café Charlotte backed off. Through the windows she could see tables occupied by couples, all seemingly blissful in each other’s company.
Not now, she thought. An air of romance wasn’t right for this discussion. She needed a businesslike atmosphere.
‘It’s a bit crowded,’ she said. ‘Let’s find somewhere else.’
‘No, they won’t bother us,’ he said, which left her with a curious feeling that he’d read her thoughts. ‘This way.’
He led her to a table by a window, through which she could see the golden glow of the water, and the little boats all of which seemed to be full of adoring couples.
But this situation demanded efficiency, common sense. The last thing it needed was emotion.
Her mood had calmed. She was even aware of a little shame at how hastily she’d judged him. But it still irked her that he’d taken control. She glanced up and found him studying her with a faint smile.
‘If looks could kill, I’d be a dead man,’ he observed lightly.
‘Unless there was some quicker way,’ she replied in the same tone.
‘If there was, I’m sure you’d know it.’
‘Well, you’ve got a nerve, just taking over like that.’
‘But I asked if you’d come with me. You said yes.’
‘And if I’d said no, what would have happened?’
He gave a smile that made her heart turn over. ‘I’d probably have taken the advice you offered me in Rome.’
‘I gave you advice?’
‘As I recall your exact words were, “Know what you want and don’t stop until you get it”. Impressive advice. I know what I want and, well—’ He spread his hands in an expressive gesture.
‘So you think you can do what you like and I can’t complain because I put you up to it.’
‘That’s a great way of putting it. I couldn’t have done better myself.’
‘I—you—’
‘Ah, waiter, a bottle of my usual wine, and sparkling water for the lady.’
‘And suppose I would have liked wine,’ she demanded when they were alone.
‘Not for the next few months. It wouldn’t be good for you or the person you’re carrying.’
His use of the word person startled her. How many men saw an unborn child as a person, still less when it had been conceived only a few weeks ago? She knew one woman whose husband referred to ‘that thing inside you’. But to Lucio this was already a person. Instinctively she laid a hand over her stomach.
Then she looked up to find him watching her. He nodded. After a moment she nodded back.
Now she’d had a chance to get her thoughts in order she found her brief hostility dying. She could even appreciate his methods.
When the waiter returned with the drinks Lucio ordered a snack, again without consulting her. But it was hard to take offence when he was ordering the same things she’d enjoyed in the outdoor café at the Trevi Fountain, a few weeks and a thousand lifetimes ago. How had he remembered her taste so perfectly? The discovery made him look slightly different.
Studying him, she discovered another change. The man in Rome had been a flamboyant playboy, handsome, elegantly dressed, ready to relish whatever pleasures came his way. The man in the vineyard that afternoon had worn dark jeans and a sweater, suitable for hard work on the land.
The man sitting here now wore the same clothes but his eyes were tense. His manner was calm, even apparently light-hearted, but there was something else behind it. She sensed apprehension in him, but why was he nervous? Of her? The situation? Himself?
When the waiter had gone he turned back to her.
‘I’m sorry for the way this happened, but I never dreamed you’d just leave like that.’
‘And I thought my leaving was what you wanted. Your silence seemed rather significant.’
‘My silence was the silence of a man who’s been knocked sideways and was trying to get his head together. You tell me something earth-shattering, then you vanish into thin air, and I’m supposed to just shrug?’
‘I guess I thought you were more sophisticated than this.’
‘What you thought was that this kind of thing happened to me every day, didn’t you?’
‘Nonsense,’ she said uncomfortably.
‘Be honest, admit it.’
‘How can I? I don’t know the first thing about you.’
‘Nor I about you,’ he said wryly. ‘That’s our problem, isn’t it? We’ve done it all back to front. Most people get to know a little about each other before they—well, anyway, we skipped that bit and now everything’s different.
‘I didn’t contact you earlier because I was in a state of shock. When I’d pulled myself together I picked up the phone. Then I put it down again. I didn’t know what to say, but I had to see you. I had to know how you feel about what’s happened. Tell me frankly, Charlotte, do you want this baby?’
Aghast, she glared at him. ‘What are you saying? Of course I want it. Are you daring to suggest that I get rid of it? I’d never do that.’
‘No, I didn’t mean—it’s just—’ He seemed to struggle for the right words. ‘Do you really want the child or are you merely making the best of it?’
She drew a slow breath. ‘I don’t know. I’ve never thought of it like that. From the moment I knew, it felt inevitable, as though the decision had been taken out of my hands.’
He nodded. ‘That can be a strange feeling, sometimes bad but sometimes good. You get used to planning life, but then suddenly life makes the plans and orders you to follow them.’
‘Oh, yes,’ she murmured. ‘I know exactly what you mean.’
‘And maybe it can be better that way. It can save a lot of trouble.’
‘You’ll have me believing that you’re a fatalist.’
‘Perhaps,’ he said quietly. ‘Things happen, and when you think you’ve come to terms with it something else happens and you have to start the whole process again.’
‘Yes,’ she murmured. ‘Nothing is ever really the way we thought it was, is it?’
‘No,’ he said. ‘That’s true, and somehow we have to find our way through the maze.’
She turned to meet his eyes and saw in them a confusion that matched her own.
‘I can hardly believe you’re pregnant,’ he said. ‘You look as slim as ever.’
‘I’m two and a half months gone. That’s too early for it to show, but it’ll start soon.’
‘When did you know?’
‘A few weeks ago. I was late, and when I checked—’ she shrugged ‘—that was it.’
She waited for him to demand why she hadn’t approached him sooner, but he sat in silence. She was glad. It would have been hard for her to describe the turmoil of emotions that had stormed through her in the first days after the discovery. They had finally calmed, but she’d found herself in limbo, uncertain what to do next.
When she’d discovered his likely location she hadn’t headed straight there. Her mind seemed to be in denial, refusing to believe she was really pregnant. Any day now it would turn out to be a mistake. She’d continued her trip around Italy, heading back south but avoiding Rome and going right down to Messina, then crossing the water to the island of Sicily, where she spent a month before returning north.
At last she faced the truth. She was carrying Lucio’s child. So she went to find him, telling herself she was ready for anything. But his response, or lack of it, had stunned her. Now here she was, wishing she was anywhere else on earth.
From the river below came the sound of a young woman screaming with laughter. Glancing down Charlotte saw the girl fooling blissfully with her lover before they vanished under the bridge. Lucio watched her, noticing how the glittering yellow burnished her face, so that for a moment she looked not like a woman but like a golden figurine, enticing, mysterious, capable of being all things to all men, or nothing to any man.
‘So tell me what you’re thinking,’ he said. ‘Tell me how it looks to you, and where you see the path leading.’
‘I can’t answer that. I see a dozen paths leading in different directions, and I won’t know which one is the right one until we’ve talked.’
‘If I hadn’t turned up just now where were you headed?’
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