“I…I had to take a chance he would understand why I did what I did.”
“And does he?”
“No.”
“What are you saying?” he demanded.
“That he has begun to ask why he doesn’t have a papa.”
“Does that imply that you would let me meet him?”
Amy sat silently, staring at her hands, tightly fisted with anxiety.
“I don’t know what to say, Alessandro. Once he knows who you are, he will want to spend time with you, and I don’t think I could bear to have you in my life on a permanent basis. My life has moved on, and for the first time in years, I have a kind of happiness.”
“I know your life has moved on. I saw you last night with your…what…lover, fiancé?”
Amy didn’t enlighten him, nor did she turn her face to look at him, for he would have seen the longing, the burning, aching desire for him in her eyes. Just sitting beside Alessandro made breathing difficult, and talking even more so.
“All right,” he continued, “I accept that you have a new life, and I won’t try to take you from your new love, although I cannot imagine how you could have given yourself to me so passionately that day in London if you love someone else. So we must deal with the situation with…what’s his name? I don’t even know my son’s name.”
“James,” she whispered.
“James… We must discuss the situation with James dispassionately and decide what is best for him. Do you agree?”
“I suppose so. But you must promise me on everything you hold holy that you will never try to take him away.”
“Amy, what do you take me for?” he spat out so scornfully, she felt about an inch tall. “I am appalled that you have such a low opinion of me after everything we shared. Quite apart from any moral issues, my company and I have a reputation to be proud of, and I would hardly sully that by being accused by the media of being a child kidnapper, even of my own son.”
“I’m sorry. But what will your wife say when she finds out about James?”
“My wife? You mean Sophia?”
“How many wives do you have? You remember—the woman you were with last night?” she flashed back at him.
“But that wasn’t…” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, choosing his words. “Sophia has nothing to do with this—or anything.”
So, Amy mused, the marriage was probably now in tatters and poor Sophia had been hurt, just as Giovanni had predicted. And Alessandro had found himself a mistress to keep him amused—just the role he had obviously intended for her, if she hadn’t had the courage to leave. Obviously, the woman he had been dining with the previous night had not been his wife after all. Amy had not seen her face. Maybe he had spent a passionate night with her at the Danieli hotel. Amy’s heart turned a painful somersault at the thought. But none of that made any difference. James should be allowed to meet his father.
“All right, Alessandro,” she said at last. “I will bring James here, to the park, after school tomorrow. You can see him and talk to him, but please don’t tell him who you are until he gets used to you.”
“Thank you, Amy.”
“How did you find me?”
“Your former colleague, Janice, had heard a rumor you were in Venice and called your mother, pretending she needed to send you some documents.”
“I can’t believe she told you where I was. They all promised to keep my secret.”
“But Janice needed a new car.” He smiled wryly.
“Bitch!” Amy spat the word out, and Alessandro shrugged.
“Everyone has a price. She told me you’ve inherited a property from your godmother?”
“Yes. Maria Vicente was my godmother, and if the name rings a bell, it is because my father used your company to make some investments for her about twenty-three years ago. She and my parents became great friends, and as she had no children, she named me as her heir. It was totally unexpected, but now I have a real home for James, and we are converting the villa into a small hotel. It’s security for life.”
“I am pleased for you. Truly, I am.”
“We’re happy here, Alessandro.” The implication, “Please don’t spoil it,” hung between them. After a moment, she called the dog. “Snoopy! Here, boy.”
“Your puppy?”
“He’s James’s.”
Alessandro leaned down to fuss the little dog, who snuffled at his hand before giving him a long, wet lick. “He likes me.” He smiled. “I suppose that’s a start.”
Amy clipped on Snoopy’s lead and stood up, looking directly at Alessandro for the first time. She was pale and trembling, and he stood to face her, taking her shoulders.
“You can trust me, Amy. I don’t know why you think I am such a villain, but I guess that doesn’t matter anymore.” He sighed very deeply, “I just want to know my son.”
“All right. I’ll see you here tomorrow at four o’clock.” Shaking herself free, she walked away, feeling sick with anguish and fear of what the next few days might bring.
Disconsolately, she wandered along the water’s edge and arrived at the boat landing in time to see the vaporetto mooring up. On a whim, she bought a ticket and jumped aboard. She decided to go to Gabriel’s antique shop on the island to see if he had time to discuss ideas for furnishing Hotel Maria—anything to take her mind off Alessandro’s hands on her and the dread that from now on, however peripherally, he was destined to be a part of her life. She recalled that first day in Rome, when the same thought had gone through her mind, but she had had no idea then of how painful the reality was going to be. Snoopy whimpered with fright on the rocking boat, so she cuddled him on her lap, soothing him softly until the boat docked, half an hour later, at St. Mark’s Square.
When she reached Gabriel’s shop, he was busy with a customer, so she wandered round, looking at the selection of furniture, silverware, and paintings he had displayed so artfully. The shop almost looked like a living room. At last, he was free and came to her with a broad smile.
“Can’t stay away from me, huh?”
Mutely, she nodded and then sank into a chair, her head in her hands.
“What is it, Amy? Or should I guess?”
“I met him in the park. He knows about James and wants to meet him. I’m so frightened.”
He came to sit beside her and took her hand. “Perhaps it’s for the best. If I were in his shoes, I would want to meet James too.”
“I said I would take James to the park after school tomorrow, so the die is cast.” She paused, taking a deep breath, and then said “Gabriel, Alessandro thinks you are my lover. Do you mind if we keep up that illusion for the moment?”
“No, I would be honored, but don’t tell him outright lies for James’s sake. If you have to have a relationship with him, however tenuous, don’t build it on lies.”
“He did!” she snapped, but then seeing a mutinous flash in Gabriel’s eyes, she climbed down. “Let’s not talk about him anymore. I want you to help me furnish the hotel.”
“I would love to. It was built in the late twenties, early thirties, so left to my own devices, I would furnish it in that period, with Art Deco.”
“That’s a wonderful idea!” she said, brightening up.
“It wouldn’t be too expensive to use reproduction art deco—for example, chrome banister rails on that lovely staircase—and it’s very easy to get repro posters for all the bedrooms. Then there are furniture makers who still make pieces in that fashion, so your bedrooms could have lots of character and style. I spend so many nights in hotels all over Europe which are as welcoming as a doctor’s waiting room and so depressing.”
Amy began to get some color back in her face as she saw his vision, and together, they pored over some books for more ideas. “I would love to have some genuine Art Deco in the dining room and the room we have decided would be good for small meetings and conferences. Could you help me find some things for those?”
“Yes, of course. There is an auction ne
xt week in Padua where I would expect to find some good pieces. Come with me?”
“Love to. Well, now that I am feeling more cheerful, I’ll go home—it’s nearly time to collect James and Donna from school. Sonya and I take turns.”
Gabriel saw her to the door and gave her hug. “Keep your chin up. Say hi to Sonya for me.”
“Yes…yes, I will. Come on, Snoopy. Time to go home.”
The little dog stirred from a very comfortable cushion he had dragged under a table, shook himself, and licked his lips.
“Yes, I know it’s past your dinner time, but I can’t risk you throwing up on the boat. I’ll feed you at home,” she told him as together, they made their way back to the boat.
Somehow, Amy got through the next twenty-four hours. The prospect of seeing Alessandro again was agonizing and even more so now that he was to meet James. Sonya brought the children home after school, and then Amy told James that she was taking him to the park with Snoopy.
“Can’t Donna come too?” he begged.
“Not today, darling. I want you to myself.” And with that, he had to be satisfied.
“Can I take my football?”
“Yes, James, as long as you don’t expect me to be in goal.”
As they walked along, he jumped and skipped and teased Snoopy, who was on his lead. He didn’t see Alessandro, dressed in jeans and a thick Aran sweater, sitting on the park bench for some time, as he ran round with the puppy, throwing a ball for him and shrieking with delight when the little dog actually caught it. Amy went to sit on the bench, as far from Alessandro as she could, and said nothing for a while. She could sense the tension between them; it felt as though they were joined by an over-stretched guitar string, in danger of snapping at any moment. Alessandro’s eyes followed James as he ran round the park, and at last, his voice cracking, he said, “He is so beautiful…and he’s speaking Italian to the dog.”
“He speaks Italian, French, and English,” Amy replied.
“You must be so proud of him.”
“He’s my whole world, Alessandro.” They watched James play for a while, and then Amy called him to her. “James, I want you to meet a friend of mine. This is Alessandro.”
“Hello.” James beamed. “I’m five next week, and this is my dog, Snoopy.”
“Hello, James.” For a moment, that was all Alessandro could manage, but then he cleared his throat and patted the puppy as Snoopy came gamboling up to him. “He’s a cute dog.”
“He likes you,” said James. “I’ve got a ball. Can you play football? My favorite team is Manchester United, but Gabriel says I should support Juventus now that we live in Italy.”
“Juventus is my team, and I go to see them whenever I can.”
Amy glanced at him in surprise, and he caught her eye. “Is that true?” she asked.
“I have shares…Oh damn, I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to say that. Yes, James, they are a great team. Perhaps we could go and watch them together one day?”
“Can I, Mama? Perhaps you could come too…and Gabriel?” He faltered and looked from one to the other, puzzled, picking up on the atmosphere between them.
“Do you want to kick a ball around?” asked Alessandro.
“Yes! That’s the goal, between those trees, okay?” The two of them trotted off, while Amy sat and watched with amazement. A few moments later, the elegant, suave sophisticate she thought she knew was sprawling full-length on the damp grass after trying to stop a ball from his five-year-old son and clearly loving it.
After half an hour, they came back to the bench, exhausted and covered in mud.
“He’s good,” gasped Alessandro.
“It’s my birthday on Saturday. Will you come to my party?” James asked, and Amy caught her breath.
“That depends on whether your mama is inviting me,” he replied.
“Please, Mama?”
Cornered, she had no choice but to agree. “If you are still going to be in Venice. What about your busy schedule?”
“I have a project here that will take a few days before I have to go back to Rome.”
“Then, please come to James’s party. I presume you know where we live?” she added dryly.
“Yes, I do.”
They watched as James ran off into the bushes with Snoopy, and he turned to her, his eyes dark and shining. He reached out suddenly and brushed a curly tendril from Amy’s face. The effect on her body was so direct, she gasped, stepped backwards, and almost fell. He moved towards her and caught her, and for a horrified moment, she thought he was going to kiss her. His face was so close, she could feel his warm breath on her cheek and smell that evocative cologne. The texture of his skin, so familiar, made her fingers ache to touch him. His mouth, so close, so achingly sexy and inviting, was an inch away. She closed her eyes, shutting out the image and, with muttered thanks, moved away from him, picked up her bag, and called James.
“We must go; it’s time for supper, James. Say goodbye to Alessandro.”
She watched as Alessandro squatted down and took the small boy’s hand. “Goodbye, James. I hope we can play football again.”
“Goodbye. Don’t forget my party.”
“I won’t.”
Amy glanced at him and caught the mixture of joy and pain on his face before he turned and walked away.
Chapter Eight
For the next two days, Amy kept busy preparing for James’s party, as well as reaching the point where she had to choose wallpaper and flooring for the hotel. She didn’t have time to brood too much about Alessandro, but sometimes, when his face popped into her mind, her stomach tensed and her heartbeat quickened.
Will I always feel like that? Will I never be able to fall in love with someone else and get married? Perhaps I should have accepted Gabriel’s proposal—perhaps he is right and we could have made a go of it. But she knew it would have been a second best for her, and Gabriel deserved far better than that.
Just then, Gabriel popped his head round the door and asked in a loud stage whisper, “Where’s the birthday boy?”
“Round at Donna’s, where else!” She laughed. “What’s the big secret?”
“I need you to help me hide his birthday present.”
“Is it that big, then?”
“It’s a bike. I hope you don’t mind, but I saw it in a shop in Padua and couldn’t resist it. It is about the right size for the little chap and has stabilizers ’til he gets his balance.”
“Gabriel, he will love it! Thank you so much. We can hide it in the shed and lock it until tomorrow. We’d better do it now; he’s due back at any time.” As they wheeled the bike down the garden, she continued, “I…um…I haven’t had a chance to tell you yet, but he did meet Alessandro, and they seemed to get on really well. He’s coming to the party tomorrow.”
“Well…that’s good, isn’t it?”
“I suppose so. James doesn’t know yet that Alessandro is his father.” She locked the shed, and together, they walked back to the house, Gabriel’s arm across her shoulders.
“One step at a time…Oh, hello Sonya.” He beamed as Sonya and the children burst through the gate with Snoopy, who was barking excitedly. “Hi, kids.”
“Hi, Gabriel. Mama, can we have milk and cookies?” asked James.
“Yes. Carmela’s in the kitchen. Go and ask her.”
The children scampered away, and Sonya turned to Amy.
“I’ve finished the birthday cake, and I contacted Coco the Clown for you. He’s free tomorrow afternoon, so I booked him.”
“You’re a star, Sonya. I don’t know how I would have coped with ten small children for three whole hours!”
“I’ll play some games with them if you like,” volunteered Gabriel.
“Oh, yes, please. What sort of games?” she asked suspiciously.
“You’ll see.” He grinned. “I have to go. See you tomorrow.”
After his boat had chugged away, Sonya and Amy wandered back into the house. “Sonya, I haven’t had a chance
to tell you yet, but James’s father tracked us down. I met him in the park a few days ago, and the next day, I took James there to meet him.”
“Amy, I’m glad… I know it’s difficult for you, but it will be better for the boy. Donna would give anything to have a papa, and James has one but doesn’t know him, which is a shame.”
“James invited him to the party, so will you please help me get through the day?”
“Don’t worry. We’ll all make him welcome. What’s his name?”
“Alessandro di Benedetto.”
“Not one of the di Benedettos? The property company?”
“The very one.” Amy felt color rising to her cheeks.
Sonya stared at her in amazement. “And you left him?”
“Yes, and then he married someone else.” Amy couldn’t bring herself to expand on that, and Sonya, though clearly puzzled, refrained from any more questions.
To everyone’s enormous relief, the next morning dawned clear and sunny. Carmela and Antonio, determined to help, arrived with croissants for breakfast, and then Antonio spent much of the morning blowing up balloons and hanging up paper decorations. By three o’clock, James was almost sick with excitement, but it was actually Snoopy who threw up all over the kitchen floor, having stolen and eaten a packet of butter. Amy was still on her knees, clearing up the revolting, smelly mess, when the doorbell rang for the first time. “Oh, no,” she grumbled, tugging at her rubber gloves, “Don’t say they have all arrived ten minutes early! James, open the door, will you?”
A moment later, footsteps advanced into the kitchen, and she looked up into Alessandro’s amused gaze.
“I’m sorry if I’m early. Would you like a hand with that?”
“Oh, no…no, thank you.” She rose to her feet and picked up the bucket of disinfectant, feeling rather like Cinderella when Prince Charming came to call. She was still in a scruffy pair of jeans and T-shirt, and he was dressed in navy slacks and a short-sleeved, white shirt, open at the collar, with a cashmere sweater thrown over his shoulder. “James, take Alessandro through to the dining room and ask Sonya to fix him a drink. I shan’t be a moment.” She dumped the bucket outside the door and fled upstairs to change into something that didn’t smell of puppy sick.
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