by Diana Cachey
More, she heard this mind say.
“Don’t we have something nice to talk about, not the case? Like you, Barbara?" He took the olive, placed it near her lips as if offering it to her, a slight grin at the side of his mouth. As she looked down at the olive, he touched her lips with it, which parted them slowly. When she opened her mouth, he placed the olive gently on her tongue. His index finger then dropped tenderly over her bottom lip pulling it down slightly. The same finger, still less than an inch from her mouth, pointed at her for a second, his wrist slightly limp,
“Tu sei simpatica (You are nice). E molto molto bella.” (and very very beautiful.) He pushed his glass further away from him and turned his entire body to face her at the bar where they were standing.
“Do not tell Louisa that my interest in her sister, you Barbara, is not professional.”
Barbara couldn’t think of one word, not in Italian or English, to say except“Si.”She whispered it as her gaze dropped to her hands clasped tightly in front of her. He too looked down at her clasped hands, around which he put his own. Then he slowly pulled them up to his mouth and gently kissed each of her fingers, while he held her hands still clasped. When he finished kissing her fingers, he raised his eyes to hers, saying nothing. Then, still holding her clasped hands, said something to the bartender in Venetian that sounded something like“in a moment” with a slight nod to their drinks and whispered at her,“Come ... with me.”
She felt herself gliding out the door, he guiding her down a dark street as he shook his head up ahead towards the sea,“We go.”
As they walked to the ocean, she relished the silence, his soft hand, his stride, her heat, the memory of those tiny kisses on every single finger. Abruptly she stopped and said, not at all sexy, but perky like a little girl at her birthday party,“Say something to me in Italian.”
Amused, he asked,“Cosa vuoi che dica?” (What do you want me to say?) He continued to lead her towards the beach.
She, this time only slightly more seductive, still playful and excited, said,“Speak Italian to me, please.”
He continued walking, more quickly, pulling her along further until he found a short brick wall outside a small park where he sat down, held both her hands in front of him, looked up at her and began speaking to her softly and romantically in Italian.
She didn’t try to interpret, understand or care. She was mesmerized. She listened and breathed. Strongly. Forcefully. She closed her eyes and listened. It was poetry. An Italian poem. Something. It was Dante. She knew. As soon as she recognized it as Dante, he changed it.
“La domenica dopo pranzo presi una gondola a due remi e feci il giro dell’isola di Murano."
All that she understood were the phrases“in a gondola around Murano island” and Sunday after lunch." It didn’t matter what the other words meant. It excited her. The sound of words, the thought of the two of them in a gondola. His voice. Everything. Everything about him.
Still reciting, he took his hands out of hers and placed his low around her waist,“per perlustrare la riva del casino e scoprire la piccola porta del convento da cui usciva mia amica.”
Casanova? Was it something from Casanova? wondered Barbara.
Gently he pulled her down onto his lap, placed her hands around his neck, while he spoke Italian words she didn’t know, the melody was enough. Then he stopped. She opened her eyes to see what he wanted,all he would say was“Carina?” (dear one). By this time she could barely breathe let alone speak, ready to push him back off the wall onto the ground, toppleover him. But she managed to say,“Cosa?” (What?)
He repeated“Carina,” as if asking for something, this time his hips tilted slightly up towards hers and he stared directly at her lips and bit his own.
She understood what he wanted, and even if not, she did it anyway. She leaned down and kissed his bottom lip, the one he had bitten himself, then she kissed his top lip and lightly brushed her lips onto his. He didn’t kiss back, this was his way of kissing back, to quietly receive hers lips on his. At first. Soon he was absolutely kissing back, deeply. At which point, she had to stop. It was all too much. The clothes must come off. Or she had to stop.
She put her hands under his chin and said,“The beach?”
“Mmmmm, okay the beach.”
**
“Cara,” Barbara heard someone calling her“dear” in Italian, Louisa calling to her as she exited the dressing room in an eye-popping dress. It highlighted all of her curves, yet covered them completely.
“It’s . . . amazing. Whatever the cost, buy it,” said Barbara.
“Eight thousand euros.”
“Maybe not.” They both laughed at the thought of a dress costing over ten grand.
“Get ready to tell me everything. I can see in your dazed eyes, you were deep in boy-toy-land.”
“No I wasn’t,” protested Barbara. I was in heaven.
“Yes you were-errrr,” sang Louisa and entered the dressing room again to wishfully try on another perfectly crafted ensemble.
Barbara continued her musings about her evening with Massimo.
**
“To the beach,” Barbara remembered Massimo saying to her. She had agreed, assured but as unsure as she had ever been. What would they do at the beach? Sand, sand everywhere.
“Don’t worry,” he leaned down and whispered.
They arrived at the beach, the moon hid partially behind a cloud. He pulled her to shore, stood behind her, pointed out to sea and said,“Ask yourself what is it you truly want, Barbara. Listen to the ocean sing to you, feel the wind. What is it? Do you know? If no, then ask and let it speak to you. What is it you want?”
She stood there feeling the power of the ocean before her and the lack of it in her heart. She had run from this moment all her life or so it seemed. He sensed it, pressed against her and, still from behind, wrapped both arms around her. First they stood silently then softly in her ear he said,“It’s a good question, no?”
No kisses, no hands, simply an enchanting hug from behind, his firm chest on her back and warm arms enfolding her, his breath tickling on her neck, his legs running the length of hers. Massimo and the sight, sound and smell of the ocean surrounded her
“What is it you truly want, Barbara?”
**
“Hello? Barbara?” Louisa was talking again. Barbara heard it and it jolted her out of her fantasy world. Louisa stood before her in another relentlessly sexy outfit.
Barbara tried to revive the vision of the ocean, to feel the presence of Massimo pressed against her from behind. The recreation failed her.
“Not as great?” Louisa said.“Still fantastic and only five thousand euro this time.” She saw that Barbara wasn’t listening and remained glassy-eyed in some fantasy state.“The dirt or not?” she said.
Louisa waited, almost as if she planned to hold her sister hostage to an ever-changing fashion show, flaunting her gorgeous physique and bottomless pocketbook until Barbara confessed.
“I wish I could tell you everything. Not here,” said Barbara. They looked around to find three salesgirls and two Italian customers waiting to hear the dirt too.
“Let’s go,” clapped Louisa.
“Okay.”
Barbara would have to tell gritty details of something to Louisa. Perhaps the Sebaand Gianni escapade of her first night, adding some Venetian embellishment? She’d do anything to keep her mind and their conversation off of Massimo, whom she wanted all for herself and didn’t want her more adventurous sister to get to know better.
Louisa’s cell phone rang.
“Don’t answer it,” said Barbara.“Give me the phone.”
“No,” yelled Louisa as her sister grabbed it.
“Hello,” Barbara said with a British accent.
“Dai.” (Come on.) Matteo’s gruff voice said,
Eager to hear the sordid details of Barbara’s threesome, Louisa lost interest in the search for clues from Venetian ghosts. Her obsession with Matteo faded. For now.
“Wrong number,” Barbara said in bad fake Cockney when she saw Louisa signal for her to hang-up. Then she slapped the phone shut, plopped it into her bag and turned back to Louisa.
“Now, do you want to hear the dirt or not?”
**
Book Club Questions
1. Were you engaged immediately in the story or did it take you a while?
2. Describe the main characters—personality traits, motivations, inner qualities.
3. Is this a page-turner or does it unfold slowly with focus on character development? Were you surprised by the plot or was it predictable?
4. Does Diana use a single or shifting viewpoint? Why might Diana have chosen to tell the story the way she did—what difference does it make in the way you read or understand it?
5. What main ideas—themes—does Diana explore? (Consider the title, a clue to theme.) Does she use symbols to reinforce the main ideas?
6. What passages strike you as insightful or dialogue that is funny, poignant, encapsulates a character?
7. If you could ask Diana a question, what would you ask? Does this book inspire you to read her other books?
8. Has this novel changed you—broadened your perspective? Have you learned something new or been exposed to different ideas about people or a certain part of the world?
9. Who do you think sent Louisa the ghost letter?
10. Have you ever had a relationship with a guy like Matteo? If yes did you dump him, or marry him?
11. Have you ever had two men fight over you like Barbara did? If yes, what did you do?
12. Who do think Louisa looks like? Jennifer Aniston, Kristen Bell
13. Who do think Barbara looks like? Kim Kardasian, Kristen Stewart
14. Why do you think the Buranese snubbed Louisa?
15. Is Massimo a ghost? Explain.
16. Have you ever sensed the presence of a ghost? If yes, would like to blog about it? Haunted-palooza, in October, could publish you! Go to www.whathappensinvenice.com.
**
Have A Venetian Ghost Party!
Required Supplies
• Masks & Capes
• Gilded Things
• Red Velvet & Black Satin (to drape)
• Cobwebs, Mold, Candles or Gas Lamps
• Classical Music by Verdi, Vivaldi or Wagner
• Real & False Friends
• Merchants (to buy & sell stuff)
• Gondoliers (to provide many services)
• Murano Glassware
• Pigeons
• Bellinis (see recipe, www.whathappensinvenice.com)
• Cichetti (see recipe, Book Two, Lagoon Lure)
Additional/optional
• Loose Women & Eager Men
Millions of Wines, Millions of Cheeses
Pizza, Pasta, Pirates
**
Please Write a Review
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Let’s Connect Further
I’d love to hear from you. Here are some ways we can connect further:
Email me at: [email protected]
Visit me at: www.dianacachey.com
Check out my Venice videos at: www.whathappensinvenice.com
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Other books in the Series:
What Happens in Venice: Book Two
Lagoon Lure
by Diana Cachey
Thank you for Reading
I hope you enjoyed reading Love Spirits, What Happens in Venice: Book One. I have to tell you I really love the characters like sexy sleuth Louisa and her clairvoyant sister, Barbara, as well as the setting, beautiful Venice, and the Venetian charmers. Many readers have been asking, “Why does Louisa fall for Matteo?” But other readers love him. Well, stay tuned. Will Louis find her happy ending? I hope so.
When I wrote Love Spirits, I got letters thanking me for the book. As an author, I love feedback! You are the reasons I explore Venice and why I wanted to create this vivid world for Louisa, her sisters, the Venetians and the ghosts to float about in — FOR YOU!
Thank you so much for reading Love Spirits, and for spending time with me.
In gratitude,
Diana Cachey