One Night with Her Italian Doc

by Karin Baine

  ‘May I?’ Luciano held out his hand for her phone, probably wanting to check out the evidence himself. She wasn’t expecting to have the camera turned back on her.

  ‘Say formaggio.’

  ‘Formaggio!’ she said with a flourish of her hands as he snapped away.

  ‘See?’ He turned the screen so she could see the result of his photography skills.

  ‘Yes, thanks.’ It made a change from the selfies she used to take, which had never quite done justice to the scenery she was supposed to have been documenting. He’d managed to capture the soul-restoring essence of the moment with one click.

  ‘You misunderstand. I need you to see yourself as I see you. You look just as at home as I do.’

  Reluctantly she studied the picture, concentrating on herself rather than the billion-pound property floating in the harbour.

  ‘I look...happy.’ It was a stunning revelation. She couldn’t remember the last time her smile had reached beyond her face until her whole body was radiating contentment. Free from the shackles she’d attached when she’d hooked up with Ryan, her true spirit was allowed to soar once again.

  ‘Sì. Bellissima.’ The compliment warmed her skin as much as the overhead sun but she didn’t shy away from it. She felt good so it made sense it should translate to her outward appearance. It was simply nice to hear it from someone else. Unless...

  ‘Is this how you woo all your ladies?’ She turned her phone off and shoved it back in her pocket.

  ‘All what ladies? I’m simply telling you that you look beautiful.’ He appeared genuinely hurt by her insinuation but pre-Ryan she’d been more streetwise. A lot of British tourists were easily seduced by the romance of a foreign holiday and the handsome locals. In his uniform, surrounded by thousands of women escaping their humdrum lives, it had to be a smorgasbord of vulnerable hearts.

  ‘I’m not naive, Luciano. Women must throw themselves at you. I wouldn’t blame you for giving in to temptation. Most men would.’ She hopped down off the wall and began walking, the conversation making her irrationally angry. Not least because she’d noticed the gold band glinting on his ring finger for the first time. He hadn’t done anything to personally offend her but she resented him on behalf of his absent wife and any easily duped women he might have seduced with that accent and flattering charm.

  He wasn’t following her any more and when she looked back he’d collapsed onto the wall as though she’d cut him open and removed his entire skeleton. ‘I’m not most men.’

  She wanted to believe that but it was the type of thing a practised lothario would use to fool a woman into bed. Of course, that wasn’t an option now she knew he was married.

  ‘How long have you been working on board? Six months? A year? In all that time you’ve never succumbed to temptation?’

  ‘Eight months and, no, I haven’t been involved with anyone. The cruise company doesn’t approve of relationships on board.’

  ‘Oh, so it’s not because you’re married then?’ She nodded at the telltale ring, wondering why she was bothered. He wasn’t her husband or her responsibility. Neither was she his conscience.

  He lifted his left hand and stared at it as though he’d forgotten he was even wearing a wedding ring.

  ‘No.’ He closed the subject down, unwilling to give her any more information on his love life and why should he? Why did she want it? It was none of her business.

  Perhaps he was one of the good guys who didn’t cheat. It made her feel safer with him knowing he wouldn’t try it on with her and make her even more confused about her feelings towards him. He was off-limits.

  Unfortunately, that disappointed her as much as finding out he had a wife. She didn’t want a relationship or more complications in her life but spending time with Luciano was making her realise she did want something more. If only she knew what.

  * * *

  Luciano should have just told her he was a widower but it wasn’t something he shared readily with strangers. For those women who did think he was a candidate for a fling, he flashed his wedding ring in the hope of staving off any further romantic notions. It was his security blanket, his force field to deflect attention about how he came to be here. That wasn’t going to work with Sophie. But by voluntarily spending the day with her he was still betraying Renata.

  He hadn’t so much as looked at another woman since he’d lost her. Now here he was, practically walking arm in arm with Sophie thinking only of how beautiful she’d looked by the harbour. How the sun highlighted the hidden strands of copper and gold in her hair.

  It was better if he let them both believe he was still married. There was less of a threat of anything else developing, which would destroy his current peace of mind.

  Thankfully she didn’t push the subject any further. He hadn’t divulged the tragic circumstances of Renata’s death to anyone since leaving home and, to be honest, he couldn’t be sure how his grief would manifest if he did. It would be mortifying if he broke down crying in the street.

  They drifted towards the more populated main boulevard in awkward silence. If they carried on in this vein the day wasn’t going to be much fun for either of them.

  ‘The church seems to be something of an attraction. Would you like to go and see inside it?’ Anything to relieve the tension, and the silence wouldn’t seem so out of place in there.

  ‘Can we just walk in?’ He could see Sophie’s curiosity was piqued about what so many people were finding fascinating beyond the plain stone façade.

  ‘It’s a church. Everyone is welcome.’ Seeing her hesitation, Luciano stepped inside first.

  ‘Wow.’ Sophie stood beside him, gazing up at the vaulted ceiling then around at the kaleidoscopic colours the sun was making through the stained-glass windows, touching everything with rainbows of light.

  It was breathtaking but he felt very much at home here. The religious icons and candles were as familiar as the smell of his mother’s perfume.

  Sophie, on the other hand, looked every inch the tourist awed by all she surveyed and trying to take it all in.

  ‘You don’t go to church?’

  ‘Not really. I’m not going to go up in flames, am I?’ Her attempt at a joke at least broke the frosty ground between them again, letting them move on from their previous difficult conversation.

  ‘I hope not. I don’t have a first-aid kit or a fire extinguisher with me.’

  ‘Ha, ha.’ Sophie gave him an eye roll and took a seat on one of the wooden pews, shuffling along to make room for him too. ‘I suppose you’re a good Catholic boy?’

  ‘Not recently. I mean, I haven’t gone to church as much as my devoted mamma would expect.’ He hadn’t been at all since the funeral. Sailing the Mediterranean was a good excuse, if he disregarded the fact that there was a Sunday service every week. Church was a place for contemplation as well as worship and he didn’t need any more time for self-reflection. As it was, sitting here, he was already considering the conversation he’d have to have in the confessional.

  Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned...it’s been two years since my last confession. Since then I’ve taken the Lord’s name in vain, abandoned my family and my faith, and been unfaithful to my late wife in my thoughts.

  ‘Penny for them...or is it a euro here?’

  Sophie broke through his imaginary soul-cleansing. ‘Sorry?’

  ‘You’re lost in thought. Is everything okay?’

  ‘Sì. Grazie. I’m thinking about home.’

  ‘Would you prefer if I gave you some privacy?’

  This was an opportunity for them to part ways and put an end to whatever was going on between them. If he stayed here he knew he’d end up walking into that confessional and unburdening his soul. The trouble was, he was afraid he’d hear those words he’d been running away from. That there was nothing wrong with wanting to move on from his grief.


  ‘That’s not necessary. Actually, I fancy a drink. Why don’t we make our way to the town square and find somewhere to sit in the shade?’ He was enjoying the cool interior of the church compared to the heat outside, even if being here beside her was beginning to make him sweat.

  ‘You don’t have to ask me twice. I’ve never drunk so much in my life, trying to stay hydrated.’

  Before they left, he made sure to light a candle for Renata, and the babies who had never lived to grow up, silently begging for her forgiveness for any actions that could be construed as inappropriate.

  Sophie hovered nearby, giving him the space he needed, though she could have no idea of the turmoil going on his head. She asked nothing from him and backed off when she sensed he needed it, something no one else in his life had managed to do so far.

  * * *

  There was a slight incline up towards the main square. Far enough in the heat that by the time they reached the first al fresco café in the piazza, Sophie was ready to collapse.

  ‘Will this table do?’ Luciano pulled out a chair for her under the shade of a free-standing canvas parasol.

  ‘Anywhere will do. I need acqua.’ Then she spotted the cocktail menu propped up in the middle of the table. ‘Ooh!’

  ‘What would you like to drink?’ Luciano must’ve been feeling the increase in temperature too as he loosened another button and exposed more of his manly chest.

  ‘Hmm, something blue.’

  That made him laugh. ‘That’s the only requirement you’re looking for in a drink?’

  ‘Yeah. Why not? Let’s live dangerously. What about you? What’s your drink of choice?’

  ‘I don’t mind the odd glass of red wine with my dinner. Otherwise I don’t drink in case I get called out.’

  ‘You’re not on duty. Someone else is covering today, aren’t they?’

  ‘Yes, but—’

  ‘Technically you’re on your holiday today too. Besides, I’d look like a lush sitting here drinking on my own.’ She didn’t really mind. Everyone else here was sitting back and chilling with their assorted alcoholic beverages, too deep in conversation with one another to care what she was doing. It wouldn’t do Luciano any harm to relax too. Especially after their tense exchange over his relationship status. She didn’t want him to think she cared.

  ‘I’ll have the green one,’ he said, closing the menu.

  ‘Good man.’ It wouldn’t be long before the whole cheating accusation she’d thrown at him would soon be forgotten.

  He ordered their drinks from the harried waitress who appeared at their table and seemed relieved to have someone to converse with in her native language.

  Sophie managed a feeble ‘Grazie...’ and wished she’d learned a few phrases before travelling.

  Italian was such a sexy-sounding language. Although, by the way the doe-eyed waitress was fawning over Luciano it wasn’t only the language causing a ripple in the female staff.

  Their drinks arrived with a dish of roasted nuts to snack on. They sipped at their colourful cocktails, trying not to let the decorative umbrellas and paper parrots perched on the glasses get stuck up their noses. Across the square a young woman set up a microphone stand and amplifier in a shop doorway. Soon they were being serenaded by the haunting sounds of opera, making it a perfect moment that Sophie wanted to remember for ever.

  ‘This is the life I should’ve had.’ She leaned back in her chair, sipping her bright blue drink, soaking up the atmosphere.

  ‘What’s stopping you from having it now?’

  When she looked at Luciano rocking back on two legs of his chair she wondered that herself. It had been a while since Ryan had left so the only person stopping her from doing what she wanted now was her.

  ‘Responsibilities, bills, financial stability. All of that boring adult stuff.’

  He set his chair back onto solid ground and put his drink on the table. ‘Correct me if I’m wrong, but that doesn’t sound like you at all.’

  ‘I’m not sure if I should be offended by that.’

  ‘Not at all. You seem strong-willed and I can’t picture you not following your heart, that’s all.’

  Sophie tutted. ‘That’s what caused all the trouble in the first place.’

  One glance at his puzzled face and she knew she had to explain. She was sure Edith had blabbed about her troubled love life since, given half the chance, she had been trying to matchmake Sophie with every attractive man she met.

  ‘I was happy living wherever I laid my sun hat. Until I met Ryan, fell head over heels and followed him back to England. I was convinced he was the one I was going to spend the rest of my life with, raising babies.’

  ‘It didn’t turn out that way?’

  ‘Does it ever?’

  ‘I guess not.’ He swirled the luminescent liquid in his glass, his mind flitting somewhere else that obviously wasn’t happy terrain.

  ‘I got bored and made the mistake of telling him so. That prompted him into running off to Las Vegas to marry his work colleague. He’s off living it up in America somewhere and I’m left with a mortgage and a job I’m only doing to pay the bills.’

  ‘That must’ve hurt...but it means he wasn’t the one for you.’

  ‘I’m not convinced there is a “one” any more and only a fool would believe that a single person in this whole universe is able to make your life complete.’

  ‘You’ve had a bad experience, that’s all. If you’re so unhappy with what you’re doing, why don’t you quit? Take that leap and do something that excites you?’

  ‘Once upon a time I wouldn’t have thought twice about doing that and I never imagined I’d say this, but I’m scared it wouldn’t work out. Not all of us are guaranteed to land the job of our dreams.’ Call it experience or maturity but she no longer had that throw-caution-to-the-wind attitude she’d once lived by. Not when the consequences could strip away your very being.

  ‘What’s the worst that could happen?’

  ‘Um, I could end up broke and homeless.’ She had no ties but neither did she have any support around her if she lost everything on a whim.

  ‘Well, it’s definitely the best decision I’ve made recently.’ He tossed a handful of nuts into his mouth before raising his glass in a toast to his seemingly perfect life, but there was something about the gesture that didn’t sit comfortably. As though he was as miserable as she was deep down.

  ‘How is your wife okay with you working away so far and so long from home?’ She knew people had all sorts of modern marriages these days and sometimes you had to go where the money was, but it would take a great deal of trust to let Luciano loose without a chaperon. Surely one would eventually wonder what he was getting up to for the best part of a year?

  Luciano gave a heavy sigh before he tossed back the rest of his drink. It seemed for ever before he finally spoke. ‘My wife, Renata, died two years ago.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘Oh.’ The pain he must’ve suffered and which she’d likely made him relive struck her with force in the chest.

  ‘I’m so sorry. I had no idea or I would never have brought the subject up.’ She’d more than put her foot in it, she’d kicked him right in the gut because of her suspicious mind.

  ‘You didn’t know. I don’t talk about it. I should. That’s what they tell you to do, right? Talk it out, express your feelings instead of bottling everything up. It’s easier for the heart to go along with people’s assumptions than put them straight.’

  ‘I can understand that.’ Every time she spoke about her relationship with Ryan it ripped open a wound, although in Luciano’s case it was over the loss of his wife, not because he felt sorry for himself.

  He had been married. She’d died. Sophie couldn’t begin to fathom that kind of loss. Everyone who’d left her had done so voluntarily and, though difficult, she’d come t
o accept it. To have someone you’d loved enough to marry, expected to spend the rest of your life with, only for them to be taken away must’ve been devastating. It was no wonder he’d been so defensive, so reluctant to open up. Yet she’d forced this out of him to satisfy her own curiosity and need to know more about him. Now she was responsible for ripping that painful wound open again with no way of closing it.

  ‘We were only married for three years. Together for four but a short, tragic marriage nevertheless. We lost two babies during that time.’

  Ugh. This was painful to watch as he stared into the depths of his empty glass. Even the parrot was wilting with the heavy weight of the conversation.

  ‘That’s awful. I’m so sorry.’ She didn’t know what else to say without it being a cliché.

  She was so young.

  I didn’t know her but I feel your loss.

  There are plenty more fish in the sea.

  That last one was the worst. Something trotted out after every break-up, but it certainly wasn’t appropriate in these circumstances. In Luciano’s case there probably weren’t any more fish in the sea. Not one he wanted anyway. That explained how he’d avoided any romantic entanglement so far. His heart had been broken beyond all repair. Then there were the babies. This was a man who’d had hope of a family, only to have it cruelly snatched away from him. And he’d been left on his own. It was too much to comprehend.

  ‘Not your fault. After her second miscarriage she developed sepsis. No one realised, not even me, until it was too late.’ As a medical professional, Sophie knew it wouldn’t have been as easy as that to accept her fate. Luciano was a good doctor and as such would’ve beaten himself up over not spotting or treating the problem himself in time to save her. The guilt was there in the slump of his broad shoulders, much as he might deny it.

  ‘The cruise life was a new start for you?’ She had wondered why a well-established doctor would abandon everything he knew and had worked for to live such a transient life. His position would’ve suited someone with no family or ties to any one place. Someone like her before she’d made the mistake of falling in love. Love ruined your life when it didn’t last for ever, like they told you it would in all the fairy tales.