‘I love you, too,’ she said, sniffing, and Domenico tipped her face up to his.
‘You are crying!’
‘Happy tears!’
He kissed them away, kissed her mouth briefly, and got up. ‘Allora,’ he said, clearing his throat. ‘Have you had breakfast?’
‘No. Have you?’
‘No. When I woke up my first thought was you, also the second and third thought, but then I told myself to be practical and ordered a picnic lunch to bring to you.’ Domenico smiled at her. ‘Food has not been of interest to me lately, but now I am hungry.’
‘So am I,’ said Laura, and for the first time in weeks found she was starving. ‘I could eat a horse.’
He grinned. ‘Che peccato! I did not think to order horse.’
They got out plates, sliced bread and opened containers together, and with much laughter got in each other’s way in the confined space before they actually sat together to wolf down slices of Bayonne ham and Norfolk turkey with some of the salad greens Laura had already, along with most of a ciabatta loaf, and a glass of the Prosecco Domenico produced from the cool-box.
‘That was just lovely,’ said Laura with a sigh when their plates were empty.
‘I chose well, then?’ asked Domenico.
‘Very well.’ She smiled at him. ‘But, gorgeous though it was, the food didn’t matter. It was eating it together that made it a feast.’
‘E verita, carissima!’ He kissed her, and went on kissing her with mounting purpose, but with superhuman effort Laura broke away and stood up.
‘This place is so small it looks like a slum when it’s untidy, so let’s clear up before—’
‘Before?’ whispered Domenico, kissing a flushed ear.
‘Before any more talking,’ she said severely.
When the kitchen was immaculate, Domenico drew Laura down beside him on the sofa and put his arm round her. ‘Amore, do you remember that I was out shopping that last night when you arrived home?’
‘Of course I do. I remember every detail of that night,’ she said with a shiver. ‘I assumed you’d gone out for wine.’
‘Not for wine.’ He took a small package from his pocket and handed it to her. ‘For this.’
Laura removed wrappings and found a box with a world-famous name on it. She held her breath as she pressed the button and stared in wide-eyed silence as the lid flew open to show a gold ring set with a sparkling stone the colour of expensive cognac.
‘I was right,’ he said huskily. He took the ring from the box and held it up beside her face. ‘It is not as beautiful as your eyes, but it is almost the same colour.’
Laura swallowed hard on the lump in her throat. ‘It’s breathtaking. Perfect. I’ve never seen a topaz cut like that.’
Domenico slid it onto her finger, his eyes alight with laughter. ‘Ah, Laura, how I love you.’
‘You’re laughing at me,’ she accused. ‘Shouldn’t you be down on one knee?’
‘I thought you did not like such romantic gestures.’
‘I would from you, Domenico.’
He slid to one knee immediately, and raised her hand to his lips. ‘So, will you marry me, Laura?’
‘Yes, please.’
‘Even though this is not a topaz? I tell you this,’ he added apologetically, ‘so that you do not describe it so to someone who knows it is not.’
Laura looked down at the glittering stone. ‘What is it, then?’
‘It is a champagne diamond, tesoro.’
She stared at him speechlessly, then down at the ring, and burst into tears.
‘Carissima!’ Domenico leapt to his feet and snatched her into his arms. ‘If you do not like it I shall buy you another—’
‘No!’ She hugged him hard, then held her wet face up to be kissed. ‘It’s beautiful and I love it. But if you’d given me a topaz I would have loved that, too.’
‘Ah, Laura.’ He drew her down on his lap on the sofa and held her close, kissing away her tears. ‘So, fidanzata mia, how soon can we be married?’
‘We’ll need to talk to my mother about that. I’ll go to work tomorrow, but take the rest of the week off, so we can go down and see her,’ said Laura with decision. ‘But for the moment why not ring for a cab and go back to the hotel with the picnic things? You can collect your luggage and check out at the same time.’
Domenico cupped her face in his hands. ‘Are you sure of this? I can go back to the hotel each night if you prefer.’
Laura stared at him in astonishment. ‘And waste all that money on hotel bills and taxis? Are you mad?’
He laughed. ‘My practical Laura!’
‘That’s me. Practical—and yours,’ she assured him, and received a passionate kiss in response.
While Domenico was out Laura changed the bed and tidied up the flat, a process that took longer than usual due to frequent pauses to admire her ring. When Isabel Green rang as promised, to report on her return home, her euphoric daughter gave her the glad news.
‘You sneaky, wonderful mother to ring Venice. I love you to bits. Do I ever tell you that?’
‘Not often,’ said Isabel, sounding suspiciously husky. ‘But it’s nice to know. So all is well?’
‘Oh, yes. Very well indeed.’ Laura gave a deep sigh of pure contentment. ‘I thought we’d take a trip down to Stavely on Tuesday for some wedding talk and stay for a night.’
‘Darling, how lovely. I thought Domenico might not be able to spare the time.’
‘He doesn’t go back until Friday. Oh, and Mother, don’t bother making up Abby’s bed. Domenico will share mine.’
When Domenico had returned from his round trip Laura threw open the door to him and he put his bags on the floor and took her in his arms, kissing her as though they’d been parted for days.
‘I did not mean to be so long,’ said Domenico, releasing her. ‘Have you missed me?’
Laura grinned as she closed the door. ‘Actually, I haven’t missed you at all. I’ve been too busy. I’ve spoken with Mother, and rung Abby and Fen with the news, and I’ve got everything ready for supper, and,’ she added with emphasis, ‘I’ve put clean sheets on the bed.’
Domenico took in a deep breath. ‘Only a few short days ago I believed I would never share your bed again.’
Laura leaned up to kiss him. ‘You’re not only invited to share mine here, but the one in Briar Cottage, too. I told Mother we’d go down to Stavely on Tuesday.’
Domenico leaned against the counter, watching her with such pleasure Laura took a long time to make supper due to a need to be kissed a lot. While they ate ham omelettes they discussed the best way to please everyone with their wedding plans.
‘But if I am truthful it is only you I wish to please,’ said Domenico, toasting Laura with the last of the Prosecco.
‘If you could please your own family at the same time it would start things off on the right foot,’ she pointed out.
He grinned. ‘What is this right foot?’
‘You know perfectly well! We’ll ask Mother,’ added Laura. ‘She’ll know what to do.’
‘However we arrange it I shall pay,’ said Domenico, and held up a hand at her frown. ‘Your mother is a widow and I will soon be her son-in-law. It is only right that I take care of her.’
‘That’s very sweet of you, darling. We’ll talk it over with her and ask her advice. She likes you a lot,’ Laura told him. ‘Otherwise she wouldn’t have rung you in Venice.’
‘I am very glad of this,’ he said soberly. ‘I shall always be grateful to her. Also to Abby for trusting her secret to me. But it disturbs me that this doctor of yours also shares it.’
‘It disturbed me, too, so I did something about it.’ Laura’s eyes glittered as brightly as her ring as she told him about her warning to Edward.
Domenico frowned blackly. ‘Did you tell him what grief he had caused us?’
‘No fear. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.’ She grinned. ‘It was very hot in the café so my blush went
unnoticed when I told Edward that you and I were still lovers.’
‘It was not a lie.’ He leaned to kiss her cheek. ‘We shall be lovers per sempre.’
Laura turned her mouth up to his for a moment in appreciation. ‘Now, let’s forget about Edward. I have a practical suggestion to make.’
He smiled indulgently. ‘Will I like it?’
‘Yes. Let’s wash these plates and go to bed.’
Domenico let out a deep breath and kissed her nose. ‘I have been waiting to hear you say this since you mentioned the sheets on your bed—’
‘But you wanted me to suggest it first?’ she said, grinning at him. ‘Do I have to ask now, then?’
‘This time only. Never again,’ he assured her.
When they were in bed together at last, Domenico took Laura into his arms with such a heartfelt sigh she hugged him hard.
‘I have wanted this so much,’ he said huskily. ‘Not just to make love. Of course I want this very much also—what man would not—but I need to hold you for a long time until I know I am not dreaming.’
‘How long?’ said Laura, wriggling closer.
He breathed in sharply. ‘Not so very long,’ he said with difficulty, then stared in surprise as she sat up and turned on her lamp.
‘I’ve got a little present for you.’ She opened the drawer in her bedside table and took out a fold of tissue paper.
Domenico sat up to take it from her, his eyes questioning.
‘I was given this by my grandmother when I was ten,’ she told him. ‘I thought you might like it.’
He removed the paper from a small gold locket engraved with the initial ‘L’ in the cartouche.
‘Open it,’ said Laura.
Domenico ran his thumbnail along the catch, and gazed in delight at the strand of bright gold hair coiled inside the locket.
‘I kept it so you can remember when I’m old and grey,’ she said with a catch in her voice.
He closed the locket, clasped the chain round his neck and took her in his arms. ‘Mille grazie, innamorata. I shall treasure this always, and take much pride in showing it to our grandchildren.’
‘Do I get a kiss in return?’
‘Many kisses!’
Domenico kissed her with hunger, exulting in Laura’s response as she caressed his shoulders with urgent hands, her breathing ragged as his kisses moved down her throat to her breasts and the nipples that sprang erect in response to his lips and grazing teeth. She gasped his name as he slid his fingers up her thighs to find the little bud throbbing between them, his caresses taking her to the point of frenzy before he moved to lie between her parted thighs, his arousal erect and ready.
‘Ti amo, Laura,’ he said, in a tone she’d never heard before.
‘Then love me now,’ she whispered, and with a victorious smile he entered her with a sure, slow thrust that held them transfixed by pure sensation for an instant before they began to move in gradually increasing urgency to achieve, at last, the ultimate, heart-stopping moment of glory.
On a bright December afternoon two months later Laura clutched Domenico’s hand as she looked down from the plane at the sunlit canals and gleaming buildings of Venice rising up to meet them.
He leaned nearer. ‘You are nervous as the plane lands, carissima?’
‘No, just excited.’ She gave him a dazzling smile. ‘Happy, too, Domenico. It was such a lovely day yesterday. Your mother and father were very kind. They seemed to like me.’
He laughed indulgently. ‘How could they not? They have always wanted a daughter. They were also much charmed with your mother and sister. Isabel has promised to show them round the countryside at Stavely during their stay.’
‘It’s very good of them to move out of their place in Umbria for us to honeymoon there.’
‘I hope it will not be too cold for you at this time of the year.’
‘A Brit like me?’ Laura laughed, and shook her head.
Domenico smiled. ‘If you are cold I shall think of ways to make you warm again. Do not forget your wrap. You will need it on the water.’
When they left the plane the captain and the flight staff were waiting to see them off, and to Laura’s surprise she was presented with a small bouquet of rosebuds along with their congratulations.
‘How lovely,’ she said to Domenico as they entered the terminal.
‘I let them into the secret when I reserved the flight,’ he said, smiling smugly.
Laura laughed at him, so happy she wanted to crystallise each second of this day and treasure it. A heavy gold band accompanied the champagne diamond on her finger, she looked her best in a swathe of caramel wool draped over the shoulders of a white wool coat cut by one of Domenico’s countrymen, and, best and most important by far, her handsome bridegroom was holding her arm with openly possessive pride. As they entered the airport building a young man came hurrying towards them, smiling, and greeted them in a flood of Italian Domenico stemmed with a raised hand.
‘Basta! My wife is not fluent in our language yet, Carlo. Speak English.’
‘Mi scusi,’ he said, with a bow to Laura. ‘Welcome, Signora Chiesa. Please accept my good wishes.’
‘Thank you,’ she said warmly, and eyed him closely. ‘I think we’ve met before.’
‘This is Carlo Mancini, one of my receptionists at the Forli Palace,’ said Domenico. ‘But today he will wait for our luggage and deliver it to the apartment before we arrive there. Is everything arranged, Carlo?’
The young man nodded, smiling, and gestured towards the landing stage. ‘It awaits, signore.’
Laura’s eyes widened as Domenico took her hand to lead her through the crowds to the quayside, not to a water taxi as she’d expected, but to a gondola decked with flowers. The smiling gondoliere touched his straw hat as Domenico helped her aboard, and Laura gave him a delighted smile and sat down, noting that they were the focus of quite a few tourist cameras when Domenico put his arm round her.
‘So this was why we had to make the early flight today,’ she said in his ear as the gondolier sank his oar into the water.
Domenico grinned at her, the light in his luminous blue eyes triumphant. ‘Enjoy it while you may, Signora Chiesa. We Venetians ride by gondola on our wedding day only. I know my practical bride scorns romantic gestures, but this is tradition, Laura mia, even if it is a day late.’
‘I love it,’ she sighed, watching the late winter sun rippling on the water as the gondolier threaded skilfully through the Grand Canal traffic. She gave him a sidelong look. ‘It obviously depends on the gesture and who makes it.’
‘From this day these will be made by your husband only,’ he warned her.
‘Absolutely,’ she assured him. ‘So tell me again what happens next.’
‘We go to the apartment, where Carlo will have delivered our luggage. You can drink some of your favourite tea,’ he went on, his arm tightening. ‘Later we go to the Forli Palace to meet the staff and eat a celebration dinner. This will be served early so that we can go to bed in good time to prepare for the trip to Umbria tomorrow.’
‘Domenico,’ she whispered in his ear, ‘I notice that bed is featured in the itinerary.’
‘But of course.’ He grinned at her. ‘Brides must expect this.’
The slow, languorous journey down the Grand Canal was the crowning touch to two days Laura would remember all her life, starting with the wedding ceremony in Pennington. Guido and Anna Chiesa had looked on with love as their son slid the wedding ring on his bride’s finger, and there’d been some suspicious sniffing in the congregation—not from Isabel Green, as one might have expected, but from Fen, as she’d watched her father escort Laura down the aisle.
Domenico had even persuaded Laura to wear a conventional bridal gown instead of her practical idea of the unworn bridesmaid dress made for Fen’s wedding.
‘Humour me, carissima,’ he’d asked, and, because Laura found it hard to say no to anything he wanted she’d given in. Her mother had agreed f
ervently with Domenico. But Isabel had refused to let him pay.
‘I’ve let you have your way about the reception at the Chesterton, but I must buy my daughter’s dress,’ she’d said gently, and Domenico had kissed her hand in laughing defeat.
Laura had given in about the dress, but instead of conventional white had chosen a long Chantilly lace sheath the colour of champagne, with a short sleeveless version for Abby. The contrast of the sisters, one so fair and the other so dark, had drawn much admiration from the guests who’d flown from Italy for the wedding, and at the reception afterwards Domenico had made a graceful speech of thanks to Isabel Green for allowing him to marry her beautiful daughter, and welcomed her to Venice with Abby as often as she wished to visit.
‘You are dreaming,’ said Domenico as Laura gazed at the sunlight gilding the ancient buildings lining the Grand Canal.
‘I was thinking of our wedding.’ She turned to smile at him. ‘You made a great speech.’
‘I meant every word. I am very fond of my new mother-in-law, and I think Abby feels warmer towards me now. She is a very lovely girl, Laura. I will take great care of her when she visits us.’
‘Are you influenced by what happened to her?’
‘Of course. No man must ever hurt her again.’
‘I love you so much, Domenico,’ said Laura, moving closer. ‘I still can’t believe we’re actually married.’
He laughed, and kissed her cheek. ‘When we get home I shall take very great pleasure in removing any doubts, tesoro.’
She smiled demurely. ‘You removed one or two last night.’
His hand tightened on hers. ‘I would have continued to do so this morning, but I had ordered breakfast very early to allow us to reach Heathrow in good time for our flight.’
‘I didn’t want to get up!’
‘I know this.’ Domenico chuckled. ‘You growled at me like a little tigress when I tried to wake you.’
The sun was setting in a red ball over the Salute as the gondola halted in the narrow canal near the apartment. Domenico gave the gondoliere a sizeable tip and to the accompaniment of fervent good wishes helped his bride onto dry land.
A Venetian Passion Page 17