‘I am here, with your parcels at last,’ said Domenico. ‘Are you ready?’
Oh, yes, she was ready. ‘I’ll be right down.’
Laura ran down the stairs, smiling, her heart lifting at the sight of Domenico leaning against the reception desk in pale linen trousers and one of his blue shirts.
‘Here is your shopping, signorina,’ he said, and gave her the bags first and then the box containing the candlesticks. ‘Go up more slowly than you came down,’ he advised, ‘or you will endanger the candeliere.’
Laura meekly went back up the stairs at a slower rate, which was an effort when she wanted nothing more than to race up and down to get back to Domenico as fast as she could; a disturbing thought when all too soon she would be waving him a permanent goodbye.
‘I thought we were meeting outside the Basilica,’ she said, when she rejoined him.
‘I finally remembered your presents. Also,’ he added, giving her a head-to-toe survey, ‘I did not think it wise to leave you waiting in the piazza alone, and I was right. You look more beautiful each time I see you.’
Laura knew perfectly well she wasn’t beautiful, but had a feeling she might start believing it herself if she spent much more time in Domenico’s company. ‘You look rather nice, too,’ she said as they left the hotel.
‘I did my best just for you,’ he said suavely, and grinned at the look she gave him.
‘How do you manage to find shirts the exact shade of your eyes?’ she asked as they strolled along the calle.
‘There are many blue shirts sold in Venice, Laura. I was not aware of trying to match my eyes,’ he protested.
‘I don’t believe you! You know to a scintilla the effect your eyes have on a woman.’
‘Do they affect you?’ he demanded, stopping to look down at her.
‘Oh, yes—but I’m working on it,’ she said, laughing.
‘If it is any satisfaction to you, Laura, your eyes have a much greater effect on me. So does your mouth,’ he said conversationally as they resumed walking. ‘And your hair. Also I have great affection for your pretty ears and your—’
‘Stop it!’ she ordered sternly. ‘We’re visiting a place of worship, remember.’
‘And we must hurry.’ Domenico looked at his watch as they dived into the tide of tourists. ‘The Basilica will be fully lit only until four o’clock.’
Laura had read up a little about the Basilica beforehand, but when they passed through the carved central doorway to mount the steps into the cathedral itself she was unprepared for the sheer impact of gleaming golden mosaics on every inch of the huge interior: domes, walls and floor, from the vestibule right through the nave. The effect was so stunning that in some ways she was glad there were the usual crowds. They made progress slow, but lessened her feeling of personal insignificance in the overwhelming golden vastness.
‘I had no idea,’ she said to Domenico as she looked down at the floor mosaics, which undulated beneath her feet like an exotic Eastern carpet.
‘I had forgotten, too, it is years since I was here,’ he said quietly, holding her firmly by the hand as they moved on through the crowd. ‘Look up.’
Laura obeyed, gazing up into the gleaming Pentecost dome at the sight of the Apostles touched by tongues of flame. But under the enormous central dome of the Ascension she was rendered utterly silent by the glittering gold mosaic of Christ in Glory high above.
‘Come,’ said Domenico. ‘We must buy tickets to view the Pala d’Oro.’
By the time Laura had admired the tomb of St Mark and the Pala d’Oro, the bejewelled gold altarpiece behind the high altar, she had the beginnings of a headache. Domenico looked at her with concern when she took refuge behind her enormous sunglasses.
‘Come, tesoro. Enough for now, yes?’
Laura nodded silently as they made their way back through the crowds in the Basilica to emerge into the thronged, sunlit piazza. ‘It’s an amazing building, but a bit of it at a time is more than enough. It needs a few visits to take it all in.’
‘When you come back we shall see it again, but early in the morning, before the crowds arrive,’ he promised. ‘And there is the Doge’s Palace to see, also.’
At that moment the very thought of it made her tired. ‘Domenico, could we just have tea at your place instead of Florian’s?’ said Laura. ‘I have a bit of a headache. I don’t think I could face an orchestra right now.’
‘But of course.’ He looked down into her colourless face. ‘Shall we call at a farmacia for some medication?’
‘I’ve got some painkillers with me.’ She smiled at him gratefully. ‘I just need lots of water and lots of tea, and peaceful surroundings without tourists or a single gold mosaic.’
‘Then my apartment is the perfect place!’
Laura was in full agreement later as she sank into one of the sofas in the cool, high-ceilinged salotto to sip the tea Domenico had made stronger and darker than before.
‘I did not think you enjoyed my former effort,’ he said, sitting beside her. ‘But you were too polite to say so.’
‘This time it’s perfect,’ she assured him, and with a little grin, said ‘Permesso?’ and toed her sandals off so she could curl up in her corner of the sofa.
Domenico gave her a look that made her heart skip a beat. ‘For me, Laura, this is much, much better than Florian’s.’
‘For me, too,’ she said, taking refuge in her tea. ‘After the pills and all that mineral water you made me wash them down with, my headache is better already.’
‘That is because you are here with me,’ he said, with such smug certainty she laughed.
‘You’re outrageous.’
He looked wounded. ‘Not at all. I meant that here where it is quiet and cool and there are no tourists—and where you are served with such wonderful tea—you naturally feel better.’
Laura smiled warmly. ‘Of course I do. Thank you, Domenico.’
‘Prego. Now, let us decide where to dine tonight.’
‘We could go to your hotel,’ she said slyly.
‘No!’ he said, with such emphasis her eyebrows rose.
‘Why not?’
He threw out a hand. ‘This is a holiday for me, also, Laura, and I do not wish to dine in the place where I spend most of my working life. Also I would have to introduce you to many people and waste much time that could be spent alone with you. When you come back I shall take you there. But not this time.’
‘I can’t manage another trip to Venice for quite a while, you know,’ she said with a sigh.
He shot her a searching look. ‘I know cost has been mentioned before, but if it is a matter of money—’
‘Of course it is. I earn quite a good salary, but a lot of it goes on rent.’ She looked away. ‘I also help my mother out a bit—a very little bit—with my sister Abby’s college fund.’
‘Because you have no father?’ he said with sympathy, and put her cup on the table so he could hold her hand.
‘Right. My mother teaches in the local primary school, and Abby works in a café at weekends to add her bit to the fund, but I want her to have a reasonable nest egg in the bank by the time she goes to college. This holiday of mine was pure extravagance right now. I would never have made it here if you hadn’t found such a cheap place for me to stay.’ Laura turned to look at him. ‘It was you who arranged it?’
He nodded, and raised her hand to his lips. ‘And because his request led to our meeting, Laura, I shall be grateful to Signor Forli for the rest of my life.’
CHAPTER FOUR
‘THAT’S a very extravagant thing to say,’ said Laura, after a pause.
‘It is true. If it had not been for him I would have sent someone else to the airport to meet you.’ Domenico gave her a wry smile. ‘It is not usually my—my job to do such things.’
‘Is that why you were in such a strop at the airport?’
‘Strop?’
‘Temper.’
He shrugged. ‘I had problems at t
he hotel that day, and was forced to leave them unresolved to meet you at Marco Polo. I apologise for my bad manners.’
She grinned. ‘I took no notice.’
‘I know it. You were so entranced with Venice you took no notice of me at all,’ he said darkly, his hand tightening on hers. ‘My self-esteem suffered a crushing blow.’
‘I’m glad.’
‘You are glad?’
‘Otherwise you wouldn’t have come after me to make sure I did notice you,’ she said matter-of-factly. ‘And we wouldn’t be here right now, enjoying each other’s company.’
He smiled. ‘E vero. For once in my life I rejoice that I was ignored by a woman!’
She looked at him searchingly. ‘Domenico, is your effect on women really so important to you?’
He shrugged, the smile suddenly bitter. ‘If I say yes will you understand?’
Laura noted the pulse throbbing at the corner of his mouth and chose her words with care. ‘It dates from the day Alessa left you for your friend?’
His eyes lit up. ‘You do understand!’
‘I know how the bottom can fall out of one’s world.’
‘Did some man do this to you, Laura?’ he demanded, frowning.
‘Not in the way you mean. The only man I’ve ever adored was my father. He died suddenly of a heart attack when I was ten.’
‘Poor little one! That must have been very hard for you.’
She nodded sadly. ‘But much harder for my mother. I realise now how wonderfully she coped with it all. She had to bury her own grief to comfort Abby and me, move us into a smaller house, and go back to work to support us.’
‘She must be a very special lady. Life changed very much for her, and for you,’ he said with sympathy.
Laura shrugged. ‘Children are adaptable. I was inconsolable at first, but in time I realised that as long as I had my mother and Abby I could cope, too. The other constant in my life was Fen, of course. I’ve always been treated like one of the family by the Dysarts.’ She smiled to lighten the atmosphere. ‘I’m chief bridesmaid at the wedding.’
‘Are there many such bridesmaids?’
‘Three besides me. Fen’s teenage nieces, you probably know one of them—Francesca Forli.’
‘I do, yes, but at this moment I am interested only in you,’ said Domenico firmly. ‘Tell me what you will wear, Laura, so I can picture you in my mind.’
‘Better still, I’ll send you a photograph—if you like.’
‘I would like that very much.’ He eyed her closely. ‘And now that you look better, Laura, let us talk of where you would like to dine tonight.’
She hesitated. ‘Domenico—could we possibly stay in and eat something here?’
‘You may do anything you wish,’ he assured her.
‘Do they do takeaways in Venice? If not, a sandwich will do.’
‘I can give you something better than a tramezzino!’
‘You’re going to cook?’
‘You cannot imagine such a thing?’ he teased, and brandished his mobile phone. ‘I shall persuade one of the chefs at the hotel to send us a cold meal of some kind.’
‘Wonderful!’
‘Can you eat shellfish?’
‘Any kind you like.’
‘Then I shall ring Sandro to see what he can do.’ Domenico looked down at her as he got up. ‘You feel better now, cara?’
‘Much better. But, Domenico, if you prefer to go out—’
‘I do not,’ he said with emphasis. ‘We shall sit on the little balcony outside the dining room while we wait for our dinner, and watch the boats on the Canalazzo.’
‘Canalazzo?’ Laura queried.
‘You foreigners call it the Grand Canal!’ he said, laughing.
The minute the door closed behind him Laura went to the window to gaze at the baroque splendour of the Salute church across the lagoon. She heaved a sigh. She had been here only a short time, yet she would miss Venice when she was back in London. She would miss Domenico a whole lot more—but she wasn’t going to think about that.
It was some time before he rejoined her. ‘You should be resting,’ he accused.
‘My headache has vanished completely,’ she assured him, and smiled. ‘You know I can’t resist this view.’
He smiled indulgently. ‘Then let us go outside to see more of it.’
Domenico’s balcony was narrow, with only room for a table and four chairs, but the view from it was spectacular. Laura leaned against the rail, watching the assorted water traffic, and wished she could paint as she watched a gondola trail a glittering wake on the water below.
‘The passengers are tourists, of course,’ said Domenico, leaning beside her. ‘The only time Venetians travel by gondola is on their wedding day.’
‘So you were going to make an exception for me the other night, then!’
He slanted a smile at her. ‘I was determined to impress you.’
‘You would have succeeded!’ She leaned farther to watch the gondola out of sight. ‘I’m disappointed, Domenico. I hoped he would serenade his passengers.’
He laughed. ‘This does not happen. The only melodies uttered by gondoliere are the warning calls heard on our canals for centuries.’
‘Another illusion shattered!’
‘Let me console you with wine.’
‘I’d better stick to water just yet, please.’
Left alone again, Laura gazed in concentration at the view from the balcony, so she would remember every detail of it when life resumed normal service back in London. She turned with a smile as Domenico came back with a loaded tray.
‘Allora, we have wine, San Pellegrino, fresh fruit juice and ice,’ he announced. ‘I thought you might like a taste of peach and orange in your mineral water, Laura.’
‘I would indeed,’ she agreed. ‘You’re very good to me, Domenico.’
He shot a narrowed, gleaming look at her. ‘When you smile at me like so it is not easy to be very good.’
‘Then I won’t.’
‘Which would be a pity.’
Their eyes held for a moment, then Domenico turned away to toss ice in a glass. He added a mixture of fruit juice and mineral water, topped it off with lemon slices and handed the drink to her with a bow. ‘Perhaps the signorina will give me her verdict.’
Laura eyed him in admiration. ‘You speak such wonderful English, Domenico.’
‘Grazie. I learned in school, of course, and then later I—I did a more intensive language course and became more fluent. It is necessary in my line of work.’ He gestured towards her glass. ‘Taste, cara.’
Laura took a sip and smiled at him. ‘Delicious.’
He poured a glass of wine and took the chair beside her. ‘Salute.’
She raised her glass to him. ‘To you, Domenico, for making my holiday so special.’
‘It is not so hard a thing to do,’ he assured her, and leaned back in his chair, utterly relaxed.
Laura’s eyes were thoughtful as she studied the clear-cut profile etched against the fiery light.
‘That is a strange look, Laura,’ he said, intercepting it.
She shrugged, smiling. ‘It suddenly occurred to me that this time last week we didn’t know each other existed.’
‘It is hard to believe,’ he agreed soberly. ‘There is so much I wish to learn about you, cara. Tell me more about your family; describe them to me.’
‘My mother is small and fair like me, and very attractive—’
‘Also like you!’
‘Thank you, kind sir. Abby is tall, with dark hair like my father. She’s the brains of the family, but no slouch in the looks department, either. She’s off to Trinity, Cambridge, in the autumn.’
‘That is very impressive.’ Domenico shot a look at her. ‘It will also be expensive, which is why you help her and why you cannot return soon.’ He turned to her, his eyes brilliant with sudden inspiration. ‘But I have a solution for this.’
Laura eyed him warily. ‘What?’
<
br /> ‘You will refuse to let me pay your air fare, I know, but instead of a hotel you could stay here in my apartment as my guest. I will not impose my company on you. You are most welcome to stay here alone, or with your mother and sister, perhaps, any time you wish.’
She smiled at him, deeply touched. ‘Domenico, that’s such a lovely thought, but I couldn’t possibly take advantage of your kindness like that.’
The light vanished from his eyes. ‘Why not?’ he demanded with sudden hauteur. ‘Do not confuse me with these ragazzi at your bank. I would ask nothing in return.’
‘I know that. Don’t go all arrogant and Venetian on me!’ She heaved a sigh. ‘It’s a lovely idea, but just not possible for me right now.’
‘As you wish,’ he said coolly, and got up at the sound of the doorbell. ‘Our dinner.’
Laura bit her lip as she watched him go. She drained her glass and went into the dining room, and with a pang saw that Domenico had made the table festive with candles and crystal and a beautiful linen cloth and napkins. She waited until the outer door closed, then went into the hall to confront him.
‘Domenico, I didn’t mean to offend you. I would like nothing better than to take you up on your offer, but I just can’t make it back to Venice for a while. Please try to understand.’
‘Mi dispiace,’ he said with instant remorse. ‘Of course I understand. Let us talk no more of things which distress you, cara.’ He took Laura’s hand and led her back to the balcony to watch the sun sinking into the lagoon in a blaze of crimson fire.
‘It’s so lovely here.’ She sighed. ‘I shall think of this a lot when it’s raining back in London.’
‘It rains here too. This had great advantages for me last night,’ he reminded her, eyes gleaming.
‘For me, too,’ said Laura, seeing no point in beating about the bush.
‘But you were angry with me!’
‘Only because you didn’t want to kiss me.’
A Venetian Passion Page 5