by Amy Andrews
‘Buongiorno, Katya. May I join you?’
Katya shuffled over, making room for him on the seat.
‘You like our gardens?’ he asked.
She nodded. ‘They are very beautiful. Did you have someone design them for you or were they already like this?’
‘The gardens have been here as long as the villa, for centuries, but they were very unkempt when we bought the property. Mario...’ Ben’s words trailed off, the familiar ache in his chest starting up at the mention of his brother.
Katya waited for him to continue. She’d been there the night Ben had received the news of Mario’s death. She had witnessed his devastation firsthand.
‘The gardens were Mario’s baby. He had this grand vision for them and hired Europe’s foremost expert on terraced gardens to help him design what you see today.’
‘It must be kind of nice to have a lasting legacy like this, to remind you of your brother,’ she said gently.
Ben just stopped himself from snorting. He rarely came into the gardens. Mario was everywhere and some things were just too painful. The last thing he needed to remember was how his brother had betrayed him. How he had discovered Mario and Bianca sharing a passionate kiss not far from here in these very grounds. Somehow the gardens had never seemed quite the same.
‘He...did a great job,’ Ben acknowledged through tight lips.
Katya looked at him sharply. She detected a slight bitterness to his tone. Maybe he didn’t want to talk about his brother? Maybe it was too soon, too raw? Maybe that was what the Contessa had alluded to on her first night?
Katya felt guilty that with everything she was going through she had totally forgotten that Ben’s brother was dead. ‘I’m sorry, Ben, I haven’t asked. It’s only been a few months—how are you coping with Mario’s death?’
This time Ben did snort. ‘Don’t worry about me, Katya. There was no love lost between Mario and I. We were...estranged when he died.’
So? Did that make a difference when your own flesh and blood died tragically? Would she cry when her mother died? Of course. If for nothing else, over the wasted years, the wasted opportunities.
Katya couldn’t help but feel estrangement made sudden death worse.
‘You seemed pretty upset that night.’ He had looked completely shattered. Totally undone. Every female cell in her body had responded to his utter desolation.
He shrugged. ‘It was a shock.’
‘Well, of course, estranged or not, he was still your brother.’
‘No.’ Ben shook his head emphatically. ‘He stopped being my brother a decade ago.’
Ben turned bleak eyes on her and she shivered despite the warm weather. ‘I’m sorry. That’s very sad.’
Ben’s lips twisted. ‘Such is life. Come on.’ He stood. ‘Let’s eat and get on our way.’
Ben strode ahead of her and she followed him slowly. Was this why Lucia was so worried about her son? Something had obviously happened between Ben and his brother. Something that had been strong enough to drive a wedge between them for ten years. Something that had persisted, even through death.
Katya caught up with Ben a minute later. He had been stopped by Damul, the father of the two children they had operated on yesterday. The man had tears in his eyes and the biggest, broadest grin Katya had ever seen. He was shaking Ben’s hand and gabbling away at him in his own dialect.
Ben spoke back to him in Italian as their hands remained clasped. Katya smiled at Damul, who bestowed another grin on her. She could see the joy behind his tears, how grateful he was, and her smile grew wider. Damul had been through so much. The loss of his wife and the injury to his children. Katya could only imagine how impotent he must have felt.
Damul patted Ben on the back and slowly withdrew, smiling all the way. ‘A happy customer,’ Katya said, still smiling from Damul’s joy.
Ben smiled back. ‘It’s a good feeling.’
‘Yes,’ she said, ‘it is, isn’t it?’ To be a part of Ben’s grand dream had been extremely rewarding, even in the little time she’d been there.
He frowned at her. ‘Really? I’d have thought it’d be a little too slow for you. I thought you liked the pace and the anonymity of the patch them up and send them on environment?’
So had she. And she did. The high turnover and hectic pace was exhilarating. She thrived on it. And the virtual anonymity of their patients was vital to keep burnout at bay. Being a body part rather than a whole person made the horror of it all easier to process.
From a very young age Katya had learned to block her emotions so it was inevitable, almost, that she should gravitate to a work environment where there was no time for emotions. But suddenly it didn’t seem to be the be-all and end-all.
Getting to know Lupi and Damul’s children and the other kids had been surprisingly gratifying. Maybe it was just her hormones but for the first time in a long time she actually felt like a nurse.
She knew what she did at MedSurg mattered, that without people like her and Gill and Ben, many, many people would die. But here at the clinic she was learning that making a difference to just one person, one child, could be intensely, intimately rewarding as well.
‘Maybe I’m mellowing.’ She shrugged.
Ben hooted with laughter, remembering their altercation yesterday. ‘I can’t quite imagine you mellow.’
She straightened. He was right. She was about to turn his life upside down. She couldn’t afford to mellow until her job here was done. She shot him a withering look. ‘And don’t you forget it, Count,’ she said, and strode away.
Half an hour later they were on the road to Amalfi and Katya was, once again, clutching the seat as Ben steered the Alfa expertly on the kamikaze roads. She was too frightened to even worry about what the rest of the day would hold, and in a crazy way it was a blessed relief.
When they arrived in Amalfi, Ben parked his car in the harbour car park. The sun reflected off the shiny surfaces of all the sleek white boats and Katya donned her sunglasses. She followed him past rows and rows of aquatic craft before pulling up in front of The Mermaid.
‘Isn’t she beautiful?’ he asked.
Katya was pleased to see that Ben had shed his mood from the garden and she gave The Mermaid the once-over. She supposed it was beautiful but she was paying more attention to the way the boat bobbed in the water.
‘Come on,’ he said, grabbing her hand and helping her onboard. ‘I’ll show you around.’
Ben adored this boat. He’d had every intention of selling her when he’d sold the Ferrari — after all, he hadn’t been out in her in a decade — but he just couldn’t bring himself to do it. Maybe because it didn’t have the same symbolism as the red car. Mario hadn’t been interested in boats so The Mermaid was something that didn’t represent his continuous rivalry with his brother.
The boat had been truly just about his own pleasure.
As he sat at the helm and refamiliarised himself with the dials, ran his hands over the wheel, he lamented not having found the time to go out in her often. He’d been out in her once since his return to Italy and had been too busy with the Lucia Trust to go again. Maybe if Katya enjoyed herself this weekend, she’d come out with him again?
‘Is there a bathroom on this thing?’ she asked, her stomach already protesting the slight swell she could feel through the soles of her feet.
‘Sure.’ He grinned. ‘Come on, I’ll show you below.’
Katya didn’t feel like she was going to vomit — yet. But she wanted to make sure she knew where to head if she did. This boat was shinier than anything she’d ever seen before, and she didn’t want to foul it.
She climbed down the stairs, following his lead, and walked into pure luxury. Her feet sank into deep-pile carpet and her eyes took a moment to adjust to the muted light. They were in a lounge area with leather chairs and a coffee-table. A plasma screen dominated the wall the chairs faced.
Ben showed her the galley, which sparkled and shone like everything else.
Then he showed her the cabins — two large luxurious ones equipped with huge beds. Beds you could roll over and over and over in. She had a vision of the two of them doing just that, the sheets tangling around their legs.
She blinked hard to dispel it as he showed her the decadent en suites complete with spas. ‘What do you think?’ he asked.
Katya reeled. She’d never been amongst such luxury. The splendour of the Lucia Clinic faded in comparison. She felt gauche, like Cinderella at the ball. Her head spun and for a brief moment she thought she was going to lose the contents of her stomach immediately.
‘It’s like a...palace.’
Ben chuckled. She was all wide-eyed, clearly overwhelmed. ‘Every woman deserves a palace once in a while, don’t you think?’ he asked.
Katya wasn’t sure about that. It wasn’t something she’d ever wished for. Sure, she’d wished they’d had more. That her mother had been home more often. That she could have gone to school more often. That they’d had food in their cupboards and a warm house all the time. She’d never even dared to wish for something like this.
And her child was going to be part of all this. Would grow up amongst all these amazing things. Would never know what it was like to feel hungry or cold. Or unloved. This wasn’t a life she would ever feel comfortable living, but as much as it dazzled, even scared her, she was pleased that the baby would never have the sort of life she’d endured.
‘I guess,’ she said quietly. Doubtfully.
‘I know you don’t feel comfortable with all this,’ Ben said, gesturing around him, ‘but I swear, if you just let yourself, you’ll have a great day.’
Katya looked into his earnest face. He wanted her to like his boat. He wanted her to enjoy herself. She could see it in his keen gaze. She smiled at him then and made a conscious effort to relax. Considering the bombshell she was going to drop at some stage, the least she could do was let him know how much she appreciated him trying to show her a good time.
‘OK.’ She smiled. ‘Aye, aye, Captain.’ And she saluted him.
Ben threw back his head and laughed. Somehow he couldn’t imagine Katya ever being obedient. It was almost as absurd as her being mellow. ‘Let’s go back on deck and get under way.’
‘Aye, aye, Captain,’ she repeated, and joined in as he laughed again.
Katya’s enjoyment soon faded as they moved out of the harbour. The Med was flat. It sparkled before them like a carpet of sapphires. Smooth as glass – stunningly blue glass. But the movement of the boat and her hormones were not getting along and they’d only been out for two minutes before Katya knew for sure this was going to be a bad morning sickness day.
‘How long to your villa?’ she asked, gripping the side of the boat, the faint whiff of engine fumes and the wake of another boat kicking her nausea up another notch.
‘It’s only half an hour from here,’ Ben said, concentrating on navigating out of the busy area near Amalfi. ‘But I thought I’d take you on a grand tour of the Amalfi coast. You’ve just got to see Positano from the ocean, it’s an amazing aspect. I was thinking we could even head to Capri, stay on the boat overnight, head back to the villa in the morning?’
Katya felt her stomach lurch as Ben looked at her for confirmation of his plans. He looked so excited, like a kid with an ice cream, and she didn’t have the heart to ask him to turn the boat around. She nodded and smiled back. Maybe the nausea wouldn’t last? Maybe it would be a day when the sickness only actually lasted the morning.
Pity she was feeling so wretched because the view inside the boat was just as spectacular as the view over the water. Ben was wearing some hip-hugging denim shorts. They had frayed hems, and showed off his magnificent long legs. A chocolate polo shirt completed the outfit, the sleeves fitting snugly around his biceps.
His hair blew in the breeze, becoming tousled, and a part of her wanted to walk up behind him, put her arms around his waist and snuggle her body into his. But she knew that any movement at the moment would be catastrophic both to her equilibrium and to her grand plan.
A speedboat passed them, rocking their craft in its wake, and Katya knew she was going to be violently ill. Ben shouted something in Italian but she didn’t wait for a translation. She made a mad dash for the stairs and just made it to the closest bathroom as the contents of her stomach ejected.
Katya heaved and heaved into the bowl, wishing she was anywhere but here. Moisture welled in her eyes as she continued to retch. She felt cheap and nasty besmirching the beautiful luxury of the most elegant toilet she’d ever been in, but her stomach wouldn’t let up and all she could do was cling helplessly to the porcelain and hope it would be over soon.
After what seemed an age she slumped back against the wall and shut her eyes. Trembling all over the bitter taste of bile in her mouth only made her feel worse.
Waited until she felt strong enough to stand, Katya clung to the wall as she pushed herself into a standing position. Grateful to find a boxed toothbrush and toothpaste in one of the marble vanity drawers, she brushed her teeth until her mouth felt minty fresh again, looking in the mirror.
God...she looked like hell. Her pale complexion even whiter than normal and her blue eyes dull. But she felt better as each second passed and her spirits revived with the thought that now she’d vomited, the worst was over.
The powerful throb of the engine reverberated through her feet as Katya made her way back through the lounge and up the stairs.
‘You weren’t joking about the seasick thing, were you?’ Ben said as Katya emerged from down below. ‘Are you OK?’
‘Sure,’ she said. ‘I feel much better.’
Then the breeze hit her face and a faint trace of engine fumes assaulted her nostrils. Nausea slammed into her gut and rolled through her intestines again. Holding her hand to her mouth she gasped out, ‘I’ll be right back.’
Katya made it to the bathroom just in time again. There was nothing left to bring up but it didn’t stop her delicate constitution or her hormones from trying. She felt like every last morsel of food was being wrung from her entire digestive tract.
Vaguely Katya heard the rumble of the engine cut out as she slumped against the wall. The cessation of movement rallied her equilibrium but she felt as weak as a kitten. All she wanted to do was curl up on one of those heavenly looking plump leather couches she had now seen three times, shut her eyes and sleep through the trip.
‘Katya?’
She opened an eye to see Ben standing in the doorway. If she’d have been remotely well, Katya would have worried about how bad she must look right now, but frankly she couldn’t care less if she looked like the wreck of the Hesperus.
‘I’m fine.’
Ben looked down at the distinctly un-fine Katya propped against the toilet wall. She looked like hell. Her blonde feathery fringe was plastered to her forehead, slick with sweat. Her normally pale complexion had gone as white as the wall into which she was leaning.
So much for a great day on the water.
Turning to the vanity, Ben removed a facecloth from one of the drawers, wet it under the gold-plated tap and wrung it out. He crouched down beside her and pressed the cloth to her forehead.
Her eyes flicked open briefly. ‘I’m fine,’ she mumbled.
‘You look like hell.’
Ben mopped her sweaty brow with the cool cloth and trailed it over the rest of her face, across her parched lips and down her neck. She murmured something in Russian and he felt as if she’d run her fingers over his stomach muscles.
He’d never seen her helpless like this, so...docile. He’d never seen any sign of weakness from her, apart from yesterday afternoon in the cameo shop. It seemed he was seeing a different side to Katya the more time they spent together.
The urge to sweep her up in his arms and protect her from her demons was overwhelming. Had she eaten something at breakfast that had been off? Was she actually really ill? Or was she truly not a seafarer? He needed to examine her in case she was developing a ser
ious medical condition.
Tossing the facecloth over his shoulder he swept her up into his arms. She barely protested, lying floppy and quiet as he headed to the lounge. Easing her gently down onto the leather couch Ben retraced his steps to the bathroom to remoisten the facecloth before returning to mop her face again, folding the cloth and placing it along her forehead. She felt warm and he was worried now that this was something serious.
‘Katya. Katya?’ He spoke quietly, stroking his fingers gently down her arm.
Her eyes flicked open briefly. ‘Mmm. That’s nice,’ she said on a sigh.
Ben chuckled. She was right about that. ‘I’m going to give you a quick once-over, Katya. Just to check everything’s OK.’
Katya was floating along in a nice hazy world. She could hear his voice and it was as sexy as ever and she wanted to wrap it around her like a feather duvet and go to sleep.
His long, lean surgeon’s fingers wrapped around her wrist clearly feeling for her pulse then his hands slid onto her abdomen. They were deft, methodical, poking and prodding. ‘Mind the baby,’ she said, slipping into her native tongue as her hazy mind transmitted his non-sexual touch into a lover’s caress.
Katya’s eyes flew open. Had she said that in English or Russian? ‘What are you doing?’ she demanded, half sitting, displacing his hands, which were moving slowly and systematically lower.
The baby! She was instantly awake.
‘It’s OK,’ Ben said soothingly. ‘I was just seeing if you had any abdominal tenderness.’
‘I told you, I’m fine,’ she said, removing his hands.
‘You don’t look so fine,’ Ben said impatiently. ‘You were out of it there for a minute. Did you eat something off this morning?’ He placed his hands against her stomach again.
‘Nothing,’ she protested, batting his hands away. ‘We ate the same things. I’m not good on boats, that’s all,’ she protested weakly.