TB B

by SJ

  ‘You obviously don’t believe in love at first sight, then, Emily?’ Giovanni asked mildly.

  ‘No,’ Emily replied flatly. ‘Do you?’

  ‘Yes,’ he said slowly, ‘I certainly do—for some people.’

  Emily shrugged. ‘Well, I don’t think that Nico is right for Coral. Good heavens—they’ve only spent a few hours together! And he’s much younger than her.’ She turned to go into the kitchen.

  After a few moments, Emily came back from the kitchen carrying a glass dish of perfect strawberries and a fondue full of melted dark chocolate. Striking a match, she lit a flame beneath it and looked across at Giovanni.

  ‘I hope you like this pudding,’ she said. ‘It’s my brother’s favourite.’

  ‘I don’t often indulge in puddings,’ Giovanni said, ‘but I’m not going to turn this one down.’

  There was silence for a few moments as they each dipped the succulent fruit into the piping-hot chocolate, transferring it to their mouths carefully and looking across at each other, Giovanni’s eyes twinkling. There was something intrinsically sensuous about hot chocolate—hot dark chocolate—he thought as he watched Emily savouring the thickly coated strawberry she’d just put into her mouth. As she raised her eyes to look back at him, he noticed the tiniest shred of chocolate staining her cheek and, without thinking, he automatically leaned forward slowly and gently, very gently, wiped it away with his napkin, pausing with his fingers caressing her warm skin before cupping her chin in his hands. For a second they both stayed quite still, looking into each other’s eyes without speaking, and Giovanni was painfully aware of his heightened pulserate, while Emily felt almost transfixed in her chair. The nerves in her neck were jangling, tingling, and she felt an unbelievable sensation invading the whole of her body, right down to her toes. A sensation she had never, ever experienced before, and it left her shaky and bewildered.

  He sat back then, still gazing at her, and Emily looked away quickly. It was time to make some strong coffee!

  ‘Thank you,’ she said, hoping that her voice didn’t sound as odd to him as it did to her. ‘Dribbling chocolate all over yourself may only be done at home,’ she added, trying to erase the memory of the last few moments. ‘Would you like some cheese?’ she enquired.

  He followed her into the kitchen, wishing that his body would leave him alone. ‘No, I don’t want anything to take away the taste of that delicious dessert,’ he said.

  ‘Then we’ll just have coffee,’ Emily said.

  Presently, after they’d cleared up the dishes, they went into the sitting room with the coffee things and Emily leaned forward to pour the steaming liquid into two mugs. She already knew from the other times they’d been together that Giovanni liked his black with no sugar and, as she handed him his mug, he held her gaze for a second.

  ‘That was the most fantastic meal, Emily,’ he said quietly. ‘In fact, it has been a remarkable evening,’ he added huskily, and Emily stirred cream into her mug quickly to avoid having to interpret his remark. He was sitting next to her on the sofa, but there was no bodily contact between them—for which Emily was profoundly grateful. Why was she still feeling so churned up inside? she asked herself. Giovanni Boselli had struck a nerve in her which she hadn’t known existed and, although it was the most delicious sensation she’d ever experienced, it had put her on the alert, making her almost dizzy with a mixture of exhilaration and anxious desperation. It could be described as the same feeling she always had on extreme fairground rides, she thought…when she was going upwards, upwards towards a terrifying apex, then to hover tremblingly for a few seconds before being catapulted forward into a mind-blowing, breathtaking vortex—yet not really knowing how it was all going to end. She took another sip from her mug. She must not let Giovanni get to her any further, she told herself. It was all very well giving Coral good advice—she needed some herself, right now!

  Later, after they’d finished their coffee, he glanced at his watch. ‘I ought to be going,’ he said. ‘Do you realize that it’s eleven-thirty?’ He smiled across at her, feeling that somehow he’d crossed a certain line with her that night. And it would do. It was enough. For now.

  He got to his feet and looked down at her, and Emily said lazily, ‘Are you staying at your flat tonight, Giovanni?’

  ‘No, I decided to book into a hotel this time—as I was only going to be here a couple of days.’

  She got to her feet at last, not wanting him to go—and not wanting him to stay! She’d fully expected that Giovanni would suggest they spend the rest of the night together—in her bed—and she’d rehearsed in her mind the gracious way in which she would turn him down. But that obviously wasn’t necessary, which was just as well, she thought. Much as she liked him—really liked him—she still thought he was probably an opportunist, someone who took his chances with no questions asked, then walked away, unscathed. Yet she had to admit that he had not behaved in any way that she’d found unattractive or unacceptable—quite the reverse! She turned resolutely to show him out, just as the phone rang stridently by her side.

  It was late for a call and, raising her eyes briefly at Giovanni, she reached over to pick up the receiver. It was Coral and, after listening to several moments of excited chatter, Emily said, ‘Oh, great…all right—it’ll be good to have you back…What? Oh…OK, then—no, no, there’s no need, we’ve got most things, but I’m going food shopping in the morning in any case and I’ll re-stock where necessary.’ Then, ‘Have you enjoyed your break with the parents?’ Emily shrugged, glancing over at Giovanni briefly. ‘OK—see you tomorrow, Coral,’ she said.

  She put the phone down slowly and looked up at Giovanni, who had been watching her—watching the changing expressions on her face. ‘Coral is coming home earlier than expected,’ she said. ‘She wasn’t due back until Sunday night.’ She raised her hands in mild resignation. ‘But first she’s going to Heathrow to pick up Nico. Apparently, he’s going to be staying here with us for a week!’

  CHAPTER SIX

  EARLY one morning of the following week Emily let herself quietly out of the flat so as not to disturb Nico, who was still fast asleep in Coral’s room.

  As she made her way swiftly towards the Underground, Emily’s mobile rang. It was Giovanni, and she smiled instinctively. He’d already contacted her several times since Friday evening, not only to thank her again, but, it seemed to Emily, to just chat…About anything. About nothing. And she was honest enough to admit that, in spite of everything, she was beginning to look forward to his calls.

  ‘Buon giorno, signorina.’ His dark, melting tones filled Emily with the usual warm shiver of pleasure.

  ‘Giovanni—hello…’ She couldn’t keep the smile from her voice. ‘This is a very early call—couldn’t you sleep?’

  ‘Well, I knew the day would have started for you. And I just wanted to say hi.’

  ‘Hi,’ she said lightly.

  ‘So—how’s it going with Nico? Is he behaving himself?’

  ‘Well, when I’m around he does,’ Emily said. ‘But, as I spent the rest of the weekend at my father’s house, I haven’t seen that much of him.’ She shrugged. ‘Anyway, I thought it was tactful to leave the two of them together.’

  ‘That was thoughtful of you.’

  ‘Hmm,’ Emily murmured enigmatically. The fact was, she didn’t want to be in Nico’s company at all. As soon as Coral had arrived with him on Saturday afternoon, she was struck by the man’s synthetic charm.

  ‘I suppose Coral has to go to work this week?’ Giovanni said.

  ‘Yes, she’s employed by one of the big estate agencies in town and they’re very busy at the moment, so there’s no prospect of her having any more time off to spend with Nico,’ Emily replied. ‘So, apparently he finds his way around by himself all day, meets Coral for lunch and again in the evenings. And I don’t see them until quite late.’ She paused. ‘They seem to be enjoying themselves,’ she added.

  ‘He’s lucky to have such a lovely place
to stay while he’s in London,’ Giovanni said, ‘and lucky that you were prepared to put him up.’

  Emily made a face to herself. Actually, she felt quite annoyed with Coral about the whole thing. Their flat was not big enough to entertain someone who was, after all, more or less a complete stranger. But it was her friend’s home as much as it was Emily’s, so she kept quiet.

  By this time Emily had reached the Underground. ‘Well, thanks for your call, Giovanni,’ she said lightly. ‘I’ll have to go—my train’s due in.’

  ‘Of course, Emily.’ He paused. ‘The weather is so wonderful today…I wish you were here so that I could drive you out into the countryside. We could have a long, long lunch at a favourite spot of mine…the food, the wine…’

  ‘Stop!’ Emily said. ‘You’re making my mouth water—and I haven’t even had any breakfast yet! Anyway,’ she added, ‘aren’t you expected to do any work today, like the rest of us?’

  ‘Oh, yes—of course. I’ve promised to mind the shop later for Stefano, and apparently there’s a sort of family meeting I have to attend this evening.’ He paused. ‘These are a necessary evil which take place from time to time, I’m afraid, and unfortunately Aldo will be there as well,’ he added.

  ‘Oh, yes—Aldo,’ Emily said, remembering the handsome man she’d been introduced to in Rome, and wondering what it was that Giovanni didn’t like about him.

  Finally, they ended the call and Giovanni went into the kitchen of his flat to make his morning coffee. Glancing around at the spacious area, he couldn’t help comparing it with the tiny room—not much more than a short galley—in which Emily had prepared their meal the other evening. Yet she’d handled everything with such deft efficiency, producing that fabulous meal with no apparent effort, he thought. He stopped what he was doing for a moment, remembering how he’d touched her cheek, had taken his time in removing that small trace of chocolate. He had felt such an unutterable longing to take her in his arms and cover her lips with his, to feel her feminine curves moulding to his body…and, for the briefest of seconds, he’d felt that she had wanted it, too. How had he let the opportunity pass? he asked himself—it wasn’t his way to hold back. But he couldn’t rid himself of the conviction that if he wanted Emily he would have to work hard to earn her respect, her love, to get her to the point where she would submit readily to his increasing physical need of her. There was a price on this woman’s head, he thought, and it was nothing to do with money.

  He sighed briefly as he poured boiling water onto the coffee grounds. He’d never before had to bide his time to get anywhere with a woman, was only too aware that they seemed naturally attracted to him from the start. But he couldn’t be sure about Emily, feeling that he still had to get past the thin veneer that seemed to protect her from anyone—from any man—getting too close.

  The damnable thing was, they were now hundreds of miles apart and prolonged absence did nothing for any relationship—Giovanni knew that well enough. A flame without oxygen would soon peter out—and there was no way that he was going to watch this particular flame die! He knew that it wouldn’t be a good idea to go back to the UK straight away…Emily would definitely not appreciate being hassled or pressurized, the feeling that she was being cornered. Yet he knew he mustn’t let too much time pass before seeing her again, and she could be sent anywhere abroad at any time—her firm was planning to send her to Estonia, so she’d said, but she wasn’t sure when that would be. At this rate, he thought morosely, it was going to be like capturing a dainty butterfly without much of a net to do it with. He bit his lip thoughtfully, remembering seeing Emily with that man she worked with—Justin. He was a good-looking guy, a decent sort of bloke and obviously smitten with Emily—anyone could see that. Yet she clearly did not return his feelings. But why? Giovanni wondered. What, and where, was the golden key that would unlock Emily’s heart?

  On Thursday evening Emily arrived home earlier than usual, the boss having decided that, as everyone had been working flat out for days, he would make it a short afternoon, just keeping a skeleton staff on duty until six o’clock.

  This was quite a treat, Emily thought as she unlocked her front door and ran swiftly up the stairs. She’d have a long cool shower, then maybe finish the book she was reading before thinking about her evening meal. One good thing about Nico’s visit was that he and Coral always ate out, so there was no chance of her being disturbed—not for several hours.

  How wrong could she be? As she went into the sitting room, Nico got up from the sofa, treating her to one of his disarming smiles.

  ‘Oh—Nico…I didn’t realize you’d be here,’ Emily began awkwardly, and he interrupted.

  ‘I hope…is OK…’ he said. ‘Coral is to work late tonight.’ He paused. ‘She suggest I come here for rest…then we go next door to Trattoria later…’

  ‘Oh, yes…we eat at Marco’s sometimes,’ Emily replied, trying not to feel too disappointed that her own plans were going to be thwarted. ‘The food is good—you’ll enjoy it.’ She paused. ‘Did—did Coral say when she’d be home?’

  Nico shrugged. ‘She not sure…about eight o’clock—hopefully.’

  Emily groaned inwardly. It was only five-thirty—how could she stand being here with Nico for nearly three hours? Why couldn’t he have found something to do in town? Then she felt guilty—he was probably feeling worn out by now, having apparently trudged the streets each day to enjoy the sights, and having to suffer being jostled and pushed around by the crowds. And she had to admit that he’d not been as much of an intrusion as she’d feared, because she only really saw him later on each evening and, as soon as he and Coral came back from wherever they’d been, Emily had gone to bed almost straight away, staying up just long enough to show an interest.

  ‘I’ll make some tea—or some coffee for us in a minute, Nico,’ she said, smiling briefly at him as she went into her bedroom, shutting the door firmly.

  ‘OK—grazie—’ he murmured, his gaze following her as she went.

  Standing for a moment with her back to the door, Emily frowned. So much for a long relaxing shower and wandering about the flat in next to nothing! she thought. Instead, she’d just have to change out of her office things, have a quick wash, then try to be an amenable hostess to their visitor. She sighed, feeling irritable all over again. To have a lovely long evening ahead, with no one but herself to please, had been such a wonderful thought…Now she was going to have to make small-talk with Coral’s beau until her friend got back.

  Slipping out of her clothes, she went into the bathroom next door, glancing at herself in the mirror as she soaped her face and hands. And thinking of a certain other Italian who she’d be quite happy to have lounging on her sofa. She had gone over and over the evening they’d spent together here, the way he’d gazed at her across the table with that special look in his eyes which always made her senses swim. Then she shook her head, cross at allowing herself these silly thoughts—like Nico, Giovanni was a mind-numbingly handsome Italian—a Latin charmer of women. But what about loyalty and devotion, that quality which her parents had demonstrated for the whole of their married life, and which Emily didn’t dare to hope was likely to feature in her own experience. Everyone seemed different today, she thought, wanting so much more from life, and that meant new partners when the novelty wore off and boredom set in.

  And what about honesty? Where a beautiful female was concerned, Emily could only believe that, for most men, the woman of the moment was all that mattered.

  Presently, with her hair brushed and wearing a fitted white shirt and jeans, Emily left her bedroom and Nico, lounging on the sofa, turned lazily to look at her as she went into the kitchen.

  Glancing back at him casually, she said, ‘Would you like tea or coffee, Nico? Or maybe something stronger?’ She smiled apologetically. ‘I’m afraid that at this time of day chamomile tea is the only thing that works for me, but we’ve got the ordinary kind—as you know by now!’

  He got to his feet and foll
owed her into the kitchen. ‘I’ll have…whatever you have, Emily,’ he murmured.

  Emily was aware, suddenly, that she was beginning to feel uncomfortable in Nico’s presence…He had come over to deliberately stand very close to her, and she had to gesture to him to move aside so that she could reach up to the shelf for the box of tea bags. Then, just as she reached upwards, she felt his arms slide around her waist, both hands resting provocatively against the flatness of her stomach, and she immediately thrust herself right away and looked up at him sharply. But he only gazed down at her, at the heightened colour of her cheeks and, narrowing his eyes briefly, he said softly, in his halting English, ‘English girls are…so…enchanting…so cool…’

  Then he moved back towards her again and, bending his head, he closed his lips firmly over Emily’s mouth—at which unbelievable point she staggered backwards in protest.

  ‘Nico!’ she almost shouted. ‘What on earth are you doing?’

  But Nico was not going to be put off that easily and he moved towards her again, enfolding her in his arms. ‘Emilee,’ he said breathily, ‘be nice…you are so beautiful…I cannot resist…’

  Pushing him off her, she said angrily, ‘Go away!’ He raised his hands as if to say, What’s the problem? It was only a kiss…but Emily was having none of it.