TB B

by SJ

  ‘You are totally out of order, Nico!’ she said crossly.

  ‘Do you understand what that means? It means your behaviour is not welcome! It’s inappropriate! Learn those

  words now, because you’re going to need them if you

  think you can take advantage of any woman who takes

  your fancy!’ She swallowed, not really believing what had just happened. ‘Now—go away!’ she said.

  He shrugged, but turned to do as she’d asked and, to her own annoyance, Emily found herself shaking inside. Nico was a tall, fit, strong young man…and practically a stranger, even if he had spent the last five nights staying in their flat. But he was Coral’s guest, not hers! How dared he take that kind of liberty—because his whole attitude just now had been overwhelmingly purposeful, and she was sure that if she’d shown him the slightest encouragement things could have gone much further.

  Fuming as she waited for the kettle to boil, Emily thought of her friend…Poor Coral.

  As she made the tea, Emily wondered how she was going to convince Coral to let this man go out of her life before real damage was done. She could describe what had just gone on in their kitchen—but she knew she couldn’t do that. It would be too hurtful. No, but somehow Coral must come around to Emily’s way of thinking. Obviously, there would be many exceptions, she thought, but holiday flings spelt bad news, whatever nationality you were talking about. Here today, gone tomorrow…but what about the broken hearts left in their wake? No, Emily thought, definitely, definitely, not worth the risk! At the end of the following week Emily found herself once more on the plane to Rome. Her recent assignment in Italy had been so successful that the boss had decided that she should return. ‘It will all become so familiar to you, Emily, you’ll be like one of the locals soon,’ he’d joked. ‘And there’s plenty of work still to do over there!’

  She had received the news with a mixture of feelings…In one way it would be good to go back because she had definitely begun to feel more at home in the place, more relaxed about everything—although how much that was down to knowing Giovanni, Emily didn’t like to think. But, in another, she half wished she was being sent somewhere else—anywhere else—to help her forget how much she’d begun to like Giovanni Boselli. Really like him.

  His telephone calls continued with determined regularity and, although Emily’s heart leapt with pleasure each time she heard his voice, she knew this was not the way she wanted it. So she decided not to tell him that she was coming to Rome for a further four days—and, in any case, he was apparently not going to be there, so there was no point.

  ‘I’m spending a week at home in the country,’ he’d said during one of his calls. ‘It’s very hot in town at the moment and, anyway, there’s stuff to do for my mother. But soon I’ll be back in England.’ He’d paused. ‘I want to stroll down Oxford Street with you when it’s cold and frosty and when the Christmas lights are on,’ he’d said, ‘and we’ll eat hot chestnuts together.’ Why did he make it sound so good? ‘I’ll peel yours for you,’ he’d added darkly.

  Now, gazing out of the window as the plane came in to land, Emily couldn’t help comparing Giovanni with Nico…Well, there was no comparison, she thought. Nico was a silly young man trying his luck with life, while Giovanni was much more mature, more understanding…more manly, more totally acceptable. And not once had he behaved in the absurd way that Nico had, not once taken that step too far.

  She’d never mentioned anything to Coral about Nico making a pass at her, keeping out of their way until it was time for him to go home, and it had been a great relief to Emily when he’d finally departed.

  Now, the plane landed safely and everyone made moves to leave the aircraft. Well, Emily thought, this time it was going to be up to her. She’d have to find her own way around, eat all her meals alone…No Coral—and no Giovanni, either. So-that was good. Wasn’t it?

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  FOR obvious reasons, Emily chose to book herself a room at a different hotel than the one she and Coral had stayed at—she didn’t want to have to make small talk with Nico, who’d be on duty again now, and who was probably already well into seduction mode again, she thought.

  For the next couple of days, Emily surprised herself by finding everything so much easier. She’d learned how the public transport system worked and where to purchase tickets, and how to find short cuts through the countless winding streets until she found the places she was looking for. And, so far, there had only been one hotel which she was not going to recommend to the firm, though she hoped it wasn’t only because the man on Reception reminded her of Nico!

  By the fourth day of her visit, Emily had covered almost everything she had to do—which had been her deliberate plan so that she could have a few hours to herself to revisit St Peter’s and the Sistine Chapel and the Raphael Rooms. To drink in all the works of art of the leading painters, though realizing that there was so much to see it would take a lifetime to absorb it all. But to be able to feast her eyes on all the glorious pictures was an amazing bonus to her job, helping to make up for her occasional minor bouts of homesickness.

  It was another very hot day and, dressed in her ice-blue sundress, her sun hat pulled well down on her head and with her large dark glasses obscuring most of her face, Emily strolled along the streets towards the Basilica. There were, naturally, hundreds of people of every nationality milling around the ancient monuments—in fact, it seemed that the entire world was there—but suddenly, unbelievably and almost making her gasp out loud, she saw Giovanni’s unmistakable figure. But he was supposed to be out in the country somewhere! Not here at all! He was standing outside a coffee house talking to a dark-haired, beautifully dressed woman, who was standing with her back to Emily, talking and gesticulating animatedly.

  Emily stood still for a moment, not knowing what to do…Should she go up to Giovanni and announce her presence? But he’d want to know why she hadn’t told him she was going to be in Rome—and she didn’t have a valid answer! She could hardly tell him the truth—which was that she wanted to avoid being near him, avoid the possibility of falling in love with an Italian, it would almost certainly prove to be an unwise bet.

  Quickly, Emily moved into the shelter of a nearby doorway, just as Giovanni’s vivacious friend took her leave of him, walking rapidly away in the opposite direction. That had to have been the girl in the picture, Emily thought, swallowing over a dry tongue—but as the woman had turned her head her dark glasses had made it impossible to tell whether she resembled the girl in the photograph or not. But…there had been something special…intimate…about the body language between the two of them as they’d chatted. If that wasn’t the girl, then it was another glamorous female in Giovanni Boselli’s life. But—so what? Emily thought reasonably. He was a free individual, and how many women he had at the same time was no business of hers…just so long as she wasn’t among their number! So what on earth was bugging her?

  Emily waited until he had walked away and was out of sight before emerging from her shadowy hiding place and resuming her journey, admitting to feeling downbeat. She had not expected to see Giovanni—it was the last thing she’d thought of—and, whatever happened, she didn’t want to bump into him and have to explain why she hadn’t let him know she’d be in Rome again. They had had so many lengthy chats on the phone—the last one only a few hours before she’d caught her flight—it wouldn’t look good that she’d omitted to mention it. And what explanation could she give?

  Biting her lip until it nearly bled, Emily hurried her step a little. No, she thought, there was nothing she could say to him which wouldn’t sound empty and pathetic—or insulting. So she’d better make sure that he never knew she’d been here this week.

  Feeling quite overcome—and not only by the heat—she found a convenient café and lined up to buy herself a large ice cream, realizing that her problems were far from over. Soon, probably, Giovanni would be back in London. So, what then? Well, she’d meet that when the time
came, she thought as, walking along, she took a generous mouthful of the minty confection. And before that, for now, she’d rest her poor senses by gazing at all those paintings.

  And then, suddenly, an ear-splitting screech of brakes, quickly followed by a cacophony of screams and shouts, made Emily stop in her tracks. Just in front of her a speeding cab had half mounted the pavement, its horn still blaring, and, to her horror, she saw someone partly lying awkwardly beneath it. For a few seconds Emily stayed frozen to the spot, the shock of witnessing an accident at close hand robbing her of her power to move, and everyone around seemed to be in the same position because no one had gone forward to help. But then her lengthy course in first aid made Emily swing into action—doing nothing was not an option in these circumstances—and, yelling loudly, ‘Someone—help—call an ambulance—quickly!’ she dropped her ice cream and broke into a run, pushing her way past the groups of horrified spectators and dropping down onto her knees beside the prostrate victim. It was a young woman who—to Emily’s relief—was sobbing and crying hysterically, which meant that her airways weren’t blocked and that she could breathe unaided. She was trying desperately to raise herself up but, as she was trapped beneath the cab—fortunately clear of the wheels—there wasn’t the space to do so. And by now an evil-looking gash was visible along her forehead and there was a lot of blood coursing down her arm, staining the road beneath her as her terrified eyes looked up beseechingly at Emily.

  ‘Aiuto! Aiuto! Per favore!’ she cried.

  Emily forced herself to smile reassuringly as she grasped both the woman’s hands in hers. ‘It’s OK…you’re OK…stay still…you’re going to be fine,’ she said firmly, cursing the fact that she spoke so little Italian. But words of comfort in any language were easy enough to understand, she thought. ‘What is your name…Name? Name?’ she repeated. ‘What is your name?’

  ‘Anna,’ the woman answered at once, trying to raise her head, and Emily’s smile of relief broadened.

  ‘Hello, Anna—I’m Emily,’ she said, pointing to herself. ‘Em—i—lee…Someone will come soon to help us.’ She squeezed the trembling hands tighter. ‘Try and keep still,’ she said gently, ‘in case you’ve hurt your back or your neck.’ Her controlled tones seemed to quieten the sobbing, which was becoming quieter as they stayed locked together on the dusty road. Seeing that most of the blood seemed to be coming from a large wound on the girl’s upper arm, Emily frantically unzipped her bag and took out the handful of tissues she’d brought with her, folding them quickly into a firm pad, which she pressed against the damaged area.

  ‘Here—press this tightly, Anna…press…press…’ Anna understood, doing as she was told.

  Anna had not taken her eyes from Emily’s consoling features and, with an instinctive movement, Emily put out her hand to move a stray lock of hair, sticky with blood, from the woman’s forehead. ‘You’re doing so well, Anna,’ she said. ‘How old are you? How old are you…how old?’

  After a moment, the girl got the message and she whimpered, ‘Twenty years.’

  ‘You are very pretty, Anna,’ Emily said, smiling. ‘Don’t worry—they will soon get you cleaned up and back home…’

  And then at last someone else did arrive, and stooped down beside them. And, with an overwhelming gush of thankfulness, Emily saw that Giovanni was right there, close to her. She looked up at him quickly, all other thoughts now far from her mind at that moment. ‘This is Anna,’ she said briefly, ‘and it’s only just happened. I don’t know how badly she’s hurt, but she’s breathing OK, and talking…’

  Hardly glancing at Emily, Giovanni took control immediately and, with both hands on the girl’s shoulders, he spoke to her, asking questions in rapid Italian, his voice gentle but authoritative. Anna answered him equally quickly, responding to his persuasive sympathy, by this time her sole attention on the handsome face of the man crouching down beside her.

  A few moments after that, with sirens blaring, the ambulance and polizia arrived on the scene and at last Emily stood back to allow the professionals to do their work. Giovanni was speaking to them, explaining as much as he knew about the accident, before coming over to Emily and taking her arm firmly, his face expressionless. At his touch she felt like bursting into tears. It’s no good, she thought, nobody told you how frightened you’d feel if you had to help at a real accident, or a real heart attack…because now she was trembling all over, and even her teeth were starting to chatter.

  Looking down at her seriously, Giovanni started leading her away from the scene and, feeling the comforting strength of his body, Emily found that she was able to walk calmly along beside him.

  Neither spoke for a few minutes as Giovanni allowed her to recover from the recent ordeal, but as each second passed Emily knew that she had some explaining to do.

  ‘Well, that was the last thing I expected to come across,’ she said shakily, looking up at him.

  ‘And you were the last person I expected to see,’ he replied, not looking back at her, but with a pleasant enough smile on his lips.

  Emily swallowed. ‘Yes, I’m sorry I didn’t let you know I was coming to Italy this week…It was…difficult…’ she stuttered. How utterly vapid did that sound?

  ‘Never mind,’ he said. ‘First things first. We’d better get you cleaned up.’

  Cleaned up? Suddenly realization set in as Emily stared down and with a quick intake of breath she saw the damage she’d sustained. She hadn’t given herself a thought! Her pale outfit was covered in blood and gravel—probably beyond repair. What a total mess she looked!

  Now he did look down at her, properly, before guiding her around the corner and into a quiet bar. ‘I think you need a brandy,’ he said briefly. ‘Then we’ll go to my flat and see what can be done. For both of us,’ he added, because his own cream trousers were stained and dirty, Emily saw now.

  At this time of the early afternoon there were few people in the cool and darkened bar and, removing her sunglasses, Emily sank gratefully onto the chair which Giovanni held out for her, noting impassively that in the panic she’d managed to lose her sun hat.

  After ordering their drinks from the waiter, he sat alongside her, leaning back in the chair and gazing at her quizzically. But he didn’t ask any questions, only thinking how ravishingly lovely Emily looked, even in her present state. The fact that her clothes were crumpled and stained did not seem to detract from her in any way. In fact, vulnerability could be a seductive state, he thought. Her hair was tousled, there was dried blood on her hands and arms and dirt on her flushed cheeks, and every now and again he saw her shiver, as if the effect of the traumatic event she had just been part of refused to leave her alone. At that moment he wanted to crush her in his arms, to hold her close to him, to make her feel safe. But he knew that would not be a wise move—especially as it was obvious that she’d not wanted him to know she’d be in Rome. He frowned briefly, looking away and trying to harden his heart against her. What had he done to make her so…elusive? To him, she seemed a complete mystery.

  Their two double brandies arrived and, picking hers up, Emily sipped at the warming liquid, looking at Giovanni over the rim of her glass. ‘This is good,’ she murmured, drinking again more freely, and he cautioned her.

  ‘Take it easy, Emily. Don’t rush it. You’ve had a shock and it’ll take a little time for you to recover.’ He smiled at her disarmingly, now. ‘If you drink it down in one, I’ll be obliged to carry you back home!’

  He knew what he was talking about, and Emily put her glass down, relieved to note that by now her hands had actually stopped shaking. Smiling back at him, she felt the alcohol taking effect and almost at once she began to relax.

  ‘So—how’s the job going this time?’ he enquired casually. ‘Finding your way around OK…? No problems?’

  Emily took a deep breath. He was purposely being kind, she thought, not quizzing her about her unexpected presence in the city and assuming that for her it was business as usual. So she would tre
at it in the same way.

  ‘I’ve done brilliantly, thanks,’ she said, picking up her glass again. ‘And I’ve finished it all in record time, so there’s a chance for me to do some touristy stuff before I go back home tomorrow…I want to see some more paintings.’

  ‘Of course you do,’ he said blandly, not taking his eyes from her face and noting that her colour was deepening by the second.

  Emily could stand it no longer—she had to say something! ‘Look, I’m sorry I didn’t let you know I’d be here,’ she said, trying to keep her voice normal. ‘But…I…I was afraid of being a nuisance to you…I thought you’d feel obliged to…you know…offer your help, waste your valuable time on me…’ How had she managed to think that one up? ‘And, also, I felt I should really attempt to get things right by myself, she went on. ‘I have a tendency to rely on other people sometimes…to let them do some of the work for me.’ That was a lie, too. ‘And you said that you had important work to do for your mother this week…I just didn’t want to get in the way, that’s all.’

  Emily hoped that this explanation sounded more truthful to him than it did to her—but she was grateful for the little lies which had conveniently formed on her tongue.

  Giovanni smiled at her slowly, as if considering what she had just said. ‘You could never get in my way, Emily,’ he murmured. ‘You should know that by now. But thank you for your consideration,’ he added.

  That made Emily feel even worse. ‘Besides, you said you wouldn’t be in Rome, in any case…that you’d be in the country,’ she said quickly.

  ‘That is true,’ he said coolly, ‘but something came up and I had to drop back here briefly. But I’ll be returning to the country later on this afternoon.’

  Emily decided that she wanted to change the subject as quickly as possible. ‘That accident,’ she said, picking up her glass, ‘it all happened in a split second. I was standing about fifty metres away, I suppose, and the first thing I saw was the cab mounting the pavement. But the noise! It was incredible! And people were screaming but no one seemed to be doing anything and when I got there that poor girl was frantic, and she couldn’t get up and I was afraid to try and move her in case she’d really hurt her back, and then all that blood! It was horrible!’ Emily shivered again. ‘I think I remembered everything I’d been taught, but when the moment arrives and something is actually happening it’s much, much worse than you ever thought it could be!’ She paused for a moment to take another drink. ‘I was so…so pleased when you turned up, Giovanni,’ she said truthfully. ‘At that moment, you seemed like a ministering angel!’