Her Italian Soldier

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Her Italian Soldier Page 7

by Rebecca Winters


  A brief silence prevailed before he asked her another question. “How did you meet my father exactly?”

  “At Mel Jardine’s dealership in L.A. He sells more Amalfis than any other in the States. Two months ago your father flew there to talk business with him.”

  Through the rearview mirror she saw Lucca’s head lift. “You work for that dealership?”

  “Yes.”

  “After being a nurse?” He sounded incredulous.

  At last they were home safe and hopefully still undiscovered, but it didn’t matter now that Lucca had promised to call his father. After she’d pulled in the drive, he climbed out of the back with the sacks. In the darkness he made an imposing figure. “What do you do for him. Don’t tell me you sell cars.”

  “I won’t. I’m Mel’s private secretary.”

  “There is no such animal with the Cavezzali dealers.” He stood there looking perplexed with his hands outstretched, Italian to the core. She wished she didn’t find him so…appealing.

  “That’s true, but he created the job after his heart attack.” She hurried ahead of him and let them in the house.

  When she would have gone straight to the terrace to start cleaning up, he caught her hand. “Not yet. I want to hear the rest to the part where my father comes into this.”

  He wasn’t about to let it go. Naturally he was curious. In fact he’d shown amazing restraint up to now. “I have to be to work early in the morning, but I’ll make a deal with you. If you’ll let me help you with the dishes, I’ll tell you. We can get them done faster so you can get off that leg.”

  With seeming reluctance Lucca let her hand slip out of his, but it left warmth curling up her arm to envelop her whole body. “The house doesn’t have a dishwasher.”

  “It does now.” She smiled at him. “I’ll clear the table while you fill the sink.”

  He returned her smile. Another one without shadows. Mama mia, as they said back in old Napoli.

  “You made quite a mess in the kitchen,” Annabelle commented a few minutes later, “but it was worth it.”

  Lucca’s arms were up to his elbows in suds. He scooped a few and blew them softly in her face. “Compliments won’t get you out of telling me what I want to know.”

  She rinsed in the other sink and started wiping bowls and pans. “To make a long story short, Mel was one of my patients. He’d had a heart attack and needed special nursing after he left the hospital. The man is superenergetic and very persuasive. He arranged with my supervisor for me to go home with him for a few weeks.”

  He glanced at her. “I take it you wouldn’t have consented unless you’d wanted to.”

  “No. He’s very kind and treats me like a daughter really. Mel’s a widower and his grown children don’t live nearby. Though he has a housekeeper, he needed a nurse. We formed a friendship.

  “When he got well enough to go back to work, the doctor cautioned him to cut down on his load and find an assistant to help handle his hectic schedule. Mel claimed I took such good care of him during his illness, he said he’d pay me triple what I made at the hospital if I’d come to work for him. So I did.”

  “From nursing to cars. Quite a jump from one arena to another that’s vastly different.”

  “I know. My job description was to keep him sorted out. I don’t know about cars, but I can work with people.”

  “It’s clear to me you’d be a natural at whatever you chose to do.” She knew enough about Lucca to realize he never said what he didn’t mean. His compliment meant more to her than it should have. She was starting to care too much. “What was the defining factor that made you accept his offer?”

  She finished wiping the utensils and put them in the drawer. He’d been honest with her. Why not tell him the truth? What could it hurt?

  “When I confronted my ex, he intimated our lives had been boring for a long time. Ryan wanted out of his mundane existence. He said that once we were married, the excitement went out of our relationship.”

  “Had you been intimate before the wedding?”

  Annabelle had been in Italy long enough to notice that Italian men weren’t afraid to talk about personal things. They got in your space. In that way they different from the American male.

  She shook her head. Even if she’d thought the question audacious, they’d already gone way past desultory conversation to talk from those painful private places. “No. I was raised that you waited until you took your vows.”

  “So in order to win the prize, he had to marry you first.”

  “I never thought about it that way, but now that you mention it, I’m sure you’re right.”

  “Some men are like that, Annabelle. Always needing another conquest to validate their existence. I’ve known rootless types like him.”

  “Rootless?”

  “Sì,” he said in his inimitable Italian way. “It’s my theory they’re not centered and therefore destined to be distracted by anything new that comes along, often discarding something or someone who’s a pearl beyond price,” he added in his deep voice.

  A quiver ran through her body. Talking to Lucca was like inhaling a fresh, invigorating breeze. “I appreciate what you’re saying, but I’m hardly a pearl. In all fairness, we both had periods where we did twenty-four-hour rounds, often at the wrong times. It wasn’t a recipe for togetherness. There’s a high ratio of divorce in that field. We ended up one of the statistics.”

  “You and half the world.” She felt his intense gaze. “Your ex—Ryan, is it?—couldn’t hold a candle to you.”

  His words were unexpected. The kind of words you wanted to hear when you weren’t so sure of yourself anymore. Not even her husband had said things like that to her before they were married. “That’s a lovely compliment, Lucca.”

  “It’s only the truth.”

  She tossed her head back. “When I got married, I was so certain my marriage wouldn’t fail. At the time of the divorce, Mel caught me at the moment when my pain was at its peak. In my vulnerability, I felt that some time away from medicine might be the best thing for me. I guess I thought it was time I stepped out of my predictable life and did something unpredictable. No reminders of the past.

  “Mel and I already got along well. The transition to become his assistant didn’t sound too difficult. Best of all, the kind of work I would do for him wouldn’t tread on anyone else’s toes. No one lost a job because of me. All those reasons fed into my decision, but in truth, I

  didn’t want to be around the medical world, where the past would haunt me.”

  “That makes sense,” he murmured. “Now we pan away to my father’s arrival on the scene.”

  “Yes.” Her pulse quickened. “The three of us spent several days together. He was gathering ideas for a new ad campaign and wanted my input from an American woman’s perspective. I was amazed at his request, but it tickled me that he’d picked me over dozens of beautiful women who were professional models. As you can imagine, it was a boost to my sagging ego. Mel was willing to let me go if I promised to return by the end of June.”

  While she spoke, Lucca had been staring at her through veiled eyes, preventing her from knowing what he was thinking. “How much longer before you have to fly away?”

  “Two weeks.” Minus a day. She was dreading the day she had to go back and leave all this…leave Lucca. She carried the dishtowel and cloth to the utility area near the door of the kitchen and put it in the washer with some other things. After turning on the machine, she closed the door and turned to him. “In case you were wondering, Guilio did offer me a good sum of money to come, probably the going rate of a top model.”

  “I don’t doubt it.”

  “I felt a fraud. What if the camera didn’t like me? Out of that fear I told him I couldn’t work for him unless I was paid the same salary Mel was paying me. After all, your father was virtually giving me a three-week holiday in Italy, all expenses paid plus the air fare over and back. To me that was a dream come true. In the end, he agreed
.”

  He cocked his dark head. “My father is always in the driver’s seat when it comes to establishing terms. For you to have the final say meant he wanted you here any way he could have you. So tell me—has it been a dream come true so far?”

  She reeled from his question. Since Guilio had first approached her, she felt like she was in a dream, deathly afraid to wake up and find she was back in that dark place where she’d been existing. Annabelle couldn’t bear the thought of ever being there again.

  “So far it has been a thrill,” she answered honestly, and Lucca was the major reason why. “Ask me again in two weeks. Good night.” She started for the bedroom. He followed her down the hall.

  “Don’t go,” he said in a husky tone. “I don’t relish being left alone yet.”

  She turned to face him, alert to a nuance in his voice that sounded like he really meant it. “If you need to talk, just tell me.”

  “No. I’m too tired for that and know you must be, too.” After a pause he said, “In a short period of time it seems I’ve got used to your company. I like the idea that you’re just down the hall from me. You’re easy to be around, do you know that? No woman of my acquaintance has ever had that particular quality.”

  “It’s funny you’d say that. During the divorce Ryan accused me of having the opposite effect on him. He claimed he’d started walking on eggshells around me.”

  “But of course.” His Italian shrug fascinated her. Everything fascinated her. “That was his guilt talking. In my country, there’s a name for a man like that.”

  Something about the way he said that name caused her to smile. “In my country, too.”

  He reciprocated with a smile of his own. “As I was saying, you have a soothing effect that draws people to you. No wonder Mel Jardine didn’t want to lose you after he left the hospital.”

  “Thank you,” she whispered. This man knew to say all the right things. She was starting to get frightened by the strength of her feelings for him. “Buona notte, Lucca.”

  Lucca had got used to having her around. In just a few days he no longer felt like he was falling apart. He had Annabellissima to thank for this much of a sense of well being.

  She was bellissima, from the inside out. Lucca wasn’t about to let her go. He hadn’t begun to plumb her depths.

  It was time to talk to his father. Lucca decided to make good on his promise to her and call him now. Guilio would probably be in bed, but not asleep yet. Most likely he was enthralled in a good biography, his favorite kind of reading material.

  After getting ready for bed, he stretched out in the most comfortable position for his leg and reached for the phone.

  “Lucca?” his father cried after the second ring. From the sound of his voice, Lucca could tell he was wide-awake. That was good. “What a surprise to hear from you tonight! How are you, figlio mio?”

  Much better than he’d expected to be when he’d first stumbled through the orchard to reach the farmhouse. “Molto bene, Papa. More to the point, how are you?”

  “I couldn’t be better now that I can hear your voice.

  You’re not still upset with me about not selling you those properties are you?”

  Lucca gripped his phone tighter. “No matter how run-down they are, I still want to buy them, Papa, but that’s not why I’m calling you now. I know it’s late. If you want, I’ll phone you back in the morning.”

  “Are you demente?” he boomed. “You call me, then you say I’ll speak to you in the morning?”

  His father would never change. “I just wanted to be sure you weren’t too tired.”

  “If I were taking my last breath of life, I wouldn’t be too tired to talk to you.”

  He felt his father’s love and a bolt of guilt zapped him for not having called him sooner, but he hadn’t gotten his pain under control until now. “I have a confession to make.”

  “What’s another one in the long list of my son’s antics?” his father teased.

  “This is a big one.”

  “You got married and are bringing her home?” The hope in his father’s voice never ceased to amaze him. To Guilio, marriage was everything. Certainly for his father, being married had kept his life stable and fulfilling.

  “Not exactly. I’ve left the military for good.”

  After a pause Guilio said, “I don’t believe it.” His voice trembled for joy. “What will you do now that you’re coming home?” he demanded.

  “I’m going to be a farmer like I always wanted to be.”

  Rather than an outburst, for once all he heard was silence on the other end. Lucca knew it wasn’t the answer his father was waiting to hear, but it had to be said. “Papa? Are you still there?”

  “Of course I’m still here. There had to be a reason why you suddenly left the service. What was it?”

  That brilliant business brain of his never stopped thinking. “I got an injury to my leg that makes me ineligible to be a pilot.”

  “How bad is it?” Guilio asked in a thick tone.

  “I walked up the steep incline to the farmhouse on my own two legs. That’s how bad I am.” It was the truth. He was thankful to be able to say it.

  “You mean you’re in Ravello?” he bellowed.

  “I was able to catch a military flight with some others guys and got here in the middle of the night. It was too late to disturb you and Maria. Unfortunately I fell by accident after letting myself in the farmhouse. So I loaded up on pain pills and have mostly slept. Would you believe I found an American woman named Annabelle sleeping in my bed?”

  He’d managed to take his father’s breath away. “You must have frightened her out of her skin!”

  “Such beautiful skin, Papa. Actually she frightened the devil out of me when she started to call the police. I understand she’s doing some modeling for a new ad campaign for you. To be honest, I can see why you picked her.”

  In spite of all the shocking news, his father managed to chuckle. “She’s not as helpless as she looks.”

  “It’s the nurse in her. When she found out I was your son and why I’d come home, she couldn’t do enough to make me comfortable in my own home. I have to admit I like all the attention she’s giving me. That’s because she’s crazy about you and upset that I took until tonight to call you. She’s so loyal to you, I’ve been in the doghouse.”

  “That’s gratifying to hear, but you have to understand something, Lucca. She’s not like the other women who’ve come in and out of your life. This one is different.”

  “I know. As soon as she found out I’d come home, she registered at the Casa Claudia.”

  “You mean she has already moved out?”

  “Not yet. She was planning to go in the morning, but I told her I hoped she would stay on. You know. Finders, keepers.”

  “Lucca—”

  “Seriously, I like having her around and she loves this place. Since you installed her here first, I’d like her to stay. You can trust me to treat her like a princess.”

  “That’s exactly what she is,” his father grumbled. Shades of a lecture were in his voice. “Annabelle is a lady, just like your mother.”

  He blinked. Rare praise coming from his father. “I’ve already found that out, Papa. For one thing she wears her divorce like a shroud.”

  “She’s been hurt.”

  “It’s time she got over it. He didn’t deserve her.”

  “A men.”

  “Since the rooming arrangements have worked out for her so far, I’ve asked her to stay on, Papa, but that’s up to her.”

  “If she’s still with you, then it sounds like she’s agreeable.”

  “I guess I’ll find out tomorrow, but I’ll be asleep most of the day. The medication I’m on for pain puts me out for hours at a time. She makes sure I take it.”

  “It sounds like a nurse is exactly what you need. Under the circumstances I’m going to fly to Milan tomorrow and get some business out of the way.” Lucca was surprised, but relieved, too, since i
t gave him another day to recuperate from his fall. “When I get back Monday morning, we’ll spend the day together.”

  “Good. I want to buy those properties and settle down to work.”

  Again there was no outburst.

  “Papa, remember that I’m not going anywhere.”

  More silence. “Do you have any idea how many years I’ve been waiting to hear those words?”

  The lump in Lucca’s throat grew a little larger. “Forgive me for waiting until I got home to call you?”

  “What do you think?” he blurted in a voice gruff with emotion.

  Tears smarted Lucca’s eyes. “Ti voglio bene, Papa.”

  “I love you, too. Grazie a Dio you’re home in one piece.”

  Lucca seconded the motion. “The minute you’re back in Ravello, come to the farmhouse. I’m going to make you a true Cavezzali breakfast.”

  “I’ll be there, Lucca. In fact I’m already salivating.”

  “Ciao, Papa.”

  With his father’s question about Annabelle going around in his head, he hung up and turned on the side he favored because of his leg to go to sleep. He had no doubts she wanted to stay. She did love the farm. What he’d told his father was the truth. It was very clear in the way she’d put flowers everywhere and sat dreamy eyed on the terrace breathing in the fragrance.

  His last thought before he knew no more was that her fragrance was even more intoxicating.

  Annabelle left the farmhouse before Lucca awakened and took off for her next destination. If he’d been up to say good-morning, she might have had difficulty leaving at all. Something was happening inside of her she didn’t have the power to stop. Like a color enhancer on a movie cam, the world suddenly had a new brilliance.

  She rounded the hairpin turn and fell instantly in love with the Amalfi convertible parked below the steeply terraced vineyards of Furore. The only way to describe the paint’s color was to compare it to a semiprecious sea-green jade stone, light and lustrous. Combined with the creamy leather interior, it took her breath.

  The crew hailed her. Basilio guided her to park behind the van as close to the wall of the road as possible. At this dizzying height, it was the only thing keeping all of them from falling into the sparkling blue depths below.

 

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