by Liz Harris
‘Why, so one could.’ She gave a little laugh.
A frisson of excitement ran through her; he hadn’t forgotten their conversation of the day before. She hadn’t a clue why he’d suddenly referred to it after the way he’d been acting all day, but it was one hell of a gift horse and no way was she going to look it in the mouth. But slow and cautious would be her watchwords – she mustn’t send him scurrying back into his shell by jumping in too quickly.
‘I didn’t think you’d be back so soon. I thought you were going to look round the cathedral.’
‘And so I was. However, if I may quote you, I wasn’t really in the mood. I’ll go another time, there’s no urgency.’
‘So what are you in the mood for?’
Shite! That was hardly slow and cautious. One swallow didn’t make a summer, and one reference to her list of favourites didn’t mean that they were back at their pre-picnic stage. God, would she ever learn to think before she spoke!
‘It’d probably be easier if I told you what I was not in the mood for,’ he said as the waiter put their drinks in front of them, along with a small dish of black and green olives. ‘I’m not in the mood for Eduardo this evening. Don’t get me wrong, Eduardo was a great help today and I’m very grateful to him for everything he’s done – you were absolutely right to insist that he come along with us – however, a little Latin bowing and scraping goes a long, long way, and I could do without any more of it this evening.’
She smiled at him. ‘I know just what you mean. But he’s good company, all the same.’
‘Which he’d also say about you, I’m sure – only he’d put it more strongly than that and each word would be accompanied by a low bow and some suction on the back of your hands.’
She burst out laughing and took an olive.
‘He’s obviously fallen for you in a big way. The man positively drools every time he sees you, and you love every slushy minute of it. And why not? He’s perfect for you. He’s a good-looking fellow, wealthy, artistic. Divine – wasn’t that how you described him?’
She took another olive.
So Tom thought she fancied Eduardo, and the underlying vibes she was picking up suggested that he wasn’t about to give them his blessing. Could he simply be pissed off with her for getting involved with Eduardo when she was in Italy to do a job for him? That would certainly account for his change in behaviour towards her.
She was faced with a stark choice: risk alienating Tom in an attempt to learn about his affair from Eduardo, or stop flirting with Eduardo at once and abandon any hope of getting information from him. It was a no-brainer – she must stop playing up to Eduardo. He was only the side order: Tom was the main course. She’d have to put all of her eggs into that one basket.
A huge feeling of relief swept over her that she didn’t have to flirt with Eduardo any longer. It hadn’t been one of her guardian angel’s better ideas.
She would hate to hurt him, and if he thought she’d fallen for him and he was really keen on her, which Tom seemed to think he was, he could get badly hurt in the end. She’d have to subtly let him know that she liked him as a friend, but not in any other way.
But, hey, she was getting ahead of herself. Tom was wrong about her feelings for Eduardo, and he could be wrong about Eduardo’s feelings for her. She should be picking up on what Tom said in his last comment and running with it. She helped herself to a few more nuts and sat back in her chair.
‘Really, Mr Hadleigh,’ she said in a tone of mock severity. ‘Women are always accused of being matchmakers, but listen to you! And you make a pretty bad matchmaker at that, if I may say so. Eduardo isn’t interested in me any more than I’m interested in him.’
‘The evidence of my eyes says the opposite.’
‘Everyone knows that witnesses always give different accounts of the same event – you’d know that better than anyone else. Eduardo’s just being friendly, that’s all.’
‘Fair enough, Evie. But we’ll see who’s right in the fullness of time.’
‘Now that sounds almost like a challenge.’ She took a black olive from the dish and popped it into her mouth. ‘But it’s a challenge I’m going to ignore.’
‘You’ll ruin your appetite if you’re not careful.’
‘You sound just like my mother.’
‘Ouch! That hurt. From matchmaker to mother in the blink of an eye. I think we’d better drink up and go before I do any more damage to the sophisticated image I aspire to.’ He picked up his glass and finished his beer.
‘Do you want me to get the bill?’
‘No, not this time. I’m going to ask for it in Italian. It’s something I should be able to do by now – I’ve heard you and Eduardo say the words enough times.’
He caught the waiter’s attention. ‘Il conto, per favore.’ The waiter nodded back at him, and he turned to her, a triumphant smile on his face. ‘There you are.’
She laughed. ‘You look like a schoolboy who’s just found a huge conker.’
‘At least you’re comparing me with someone of my own gender this time,’ he said with a grin. ‘That’s got to be progress of a sort.’
She smiled up at him. The few days in the sun had bleached his hair and lightly tanned his skin.
This would be so much easier if he were ugly, she thought.
Evie followed Tom and the waiter across the stone terrace of the restaurant in Casigliano. Her steps slowed as she neared the balustrade that ran round the edge of the terrace and saw the panoramic view of the valley beneath them.
The sun was setting in a fiery ball that streaked the sky. Hints of a sparkling rosé gradually darkened into deep claret, bathing the valley and terrace in a warm, rich glow. Above her, fairy lights glittered in the canopy of vine leaves that grew in abundance along the top of the pergola. From somewhere inside the restaurant, the soft strains of a violin floated on the scented evening air.
Wow, she thought. What a romantic place. If only it was going to be just her and Tom at dinner that evening.
‘Ah, look, there’s Eduardo.’ Tom’s voice broke into her thoughts. ‘He’s beaten us here.’
Eduardo looked up from the menu as they reached the table. His face broke into a wide smile and he promptly pushed back his chair and rose to greet them.
‘Buona sera, Tom.’ Eduardo clasped Tom warmly by the shoulders.
Tom gently extricated himself from Eduardo’s grip. ‘Buona sera, Eduardo.’
‘E la divina Evie,’ Eduardo sighed. In an elegant action, he bowed towards her, his hand across his heart.
Pointedly ignoring Tom’s I-told-you-so grin, she clasped her fingers tightly behind her back and stared at the slender hand that covered Eduardo’s heart. Her eyes narrowed: she’d used that same hand-across-the-heart flourish herself in the past. Urgent note to self – delete said action from her mental List of Alluring Gestures. It was much too cheesy.
‘Assolutamente divina,’ Eduardo murmured to the floor.
He slowly raised himself upright, his eyes sliding up her short, strapless lime-green dress to her face and to the cloud of auburn hair that hung loosely around her face. His lips curved into an appreciative smile. Taking his hand from his heart, he gestured towards the table. ‘Si accomodino.’
‘Eduardo wants us to sit down.’
‘I’m not too sure about the seating plan,’ he remarked as he sat down next to her and saw Eduardo taking the place opposite her. ‘The sight of Eduardo gazing slavishly at you is likely to play havoc with my digestion. And I’d rather look at you than at that empty chair.’
‘You certainly do know how to flatter a girl,’ she said brightly.
He threw back his head and laughed. ‘You know what I mean. Anyway, how come there’s a fourth place set when there’re only three of us. Ask Eduardo, would you, please?’
Evie relayed Tom’s question.
‘Ah si!’ Eduardo exclaimed, and he broke into a stream of rapid, excitable Italian, which ended with him looking at his watch
, shrugging his shoulders and raising his hands to the darkening sky.
‘His sister, Gabriela, is going to join us. She lives in Florence, but her job’s taking her to London very soon. She’ll be there for about a year. Apparently, as soon as she heard that you were over this week, she asked if she could come and meet you. I think she wants to talk to you about London and get your advice about things. According to Eduardo, she’s very clever and very ambitious.’
Tom nodded his understanding to Eduardo.
‘Oh, and she’s late. They’ve hardly seen each other since she moved to Florence a couple of years ago, so Eduardo suggested that she come early so that they could catch up before we arrived, but she’s late, as you can see.’
Tom shook his head sympathetically across the table to Eduardo. ‘That’s women all over for you.’
‘How disappointing for you,’ Evie translated.
Eduardo smiled gratefully at Tom, then raised his finger to call the waiter.
‘Un aperitivo?’ he suggested as the waiter approached the table.
‘Per favore,’ Tom replied.
‘Bravo, Tom!’ Eduardo clapped his hands. ‘Molto bene. E tu, Evie?’
‘Si, per favore.’
‘E per me, Eduardo. And for me, too,’ came a husky voice with a strong Italian accent.
‘Gabriela!’ Eduardo cried, looking up at the slender, beautiful woman with jet black hair who stood at the side of their table, smiling down at him. Jumping up, he kissed her warmly on both cheeks, then he turned to introduce her to Tom and Evie.
‘Mia sorella,’ he said with obvious pride. ‘Gabriela.’
Evie stared up at Gabriela in dismay. Eduardo’s sister was the last word in elegance and sophistication.
Not so long ago, Tom had joked about aspiring to an image of sophistication. Maybe he also aspired to having an image of sophistication in his arms, and worse still, in his bed.
What frigging luck!
Chapter Eight
If looks could kill …
Tom rose to his feet at once. ‘I don’t need a translation for that.’ He leaned across the table to shake hands with Gabriela. ‘You’re obviously Eduardo’s sister. There’s a strong family likeness. It’s a real pleasure to meet you.’
‘It’s my pleasure, too,’ Gabriela murmured, her voice deep in her throat. She held Tom’s eyes for a moment, then glanced down at Evie. ‘And you must be Evie. Eduardo has told me so much about you. It’s lovely to meet you, too.’
Evie half rose from her chair. Gabriela’s dark eyes swept appraisingly over her. ‘We are going to be friends, I feel, Evie,’ she said, and she turned back to Tom. ‘I was so wanting to meet you, Tom. Please forgive me for inviting myself to join you this evening.’
‘There’s nothing to forgive. Please do sit down.’ He went swiftly round the table and pulled out the chair opposite him. Gabriela gracefully slid to the seat, and Tom returned to his place. ‘We’re delighted to have the opportunity of meeting you,’ he said as he sat down.
While Eduardo was giving the order for their aperitifs, Evie surreptitiously watched Gabriela settle in her seat. She put her slim black leather bag on the table beside her, twisted her body slightly and crossed one long leg over the other. It was hard not to watch her; Eduardo’s sister was stunning. She glanced sideways at Tom. He obviously thought so, too. And he’d complained that Eduardo had drooled over her. Huh! Tom couldn’t take his eyes off Gabriela and his tongue was all but hanging out.
Glamour Puss would put Gabriela in the category of vamp, she decided.
Her crimson sheath dress fitted her super slim body like a sheet of cling film. Her glossy black hair had been expertly coiled at the nape of her neck, and not a single strand of hair had escaped the coil. Thick bands of silver hung around her neck and arms. Her mouth was the same shape as Eduardo’s, but hers was a vivid red gash, dramatic against her pale olive skin.
Yes, definitely vampish. And sophisticated.
For an awful moment she thought she was going to burst into tears. What on earth was wrong with her!
She stared down at the table and swallowed hard. So what if Tom did fall for Gabriela; what he did was his own affair and nothing at all to do with her. He was good-looking and fun to be with, but the bottom line was that he was a job, and no more than that. Yes, Gabriela’s arrival might have pushed things in a direction that they weren’t meant to be going, but that was no reason for her to get all tearful.
Which she was.
She blinked furiously. She was losing the plot. Whatever the two of them got up to was nothing to do with her, unless it involved a story. And since ‘Successful Bachelor Lawyer Screws Beautiful, Unattached Woman’ was hardly the exposé her editor was looking for, what he and Gabriela did or didn’t do was never going to be any of her business.
She blinked again.
She was probably feeling emotional because she could see that if Gabriela and Tom got together, it would make it harder for her to get her story. The closer he got to Gabriela, the further he’d move away from her, and it would be to Gabriela that he’d whisper his confession, not to the investigative journalist at his side. That was what it must be. It was the sort of setback that would make anyone feel like howling.
She glanced across the table at Gabriela, who was laughing at something Tom had said. The huge silver hoops hanging from her ear lobes were to die for.
She heard Tom say the word England, and felt a rush of relief.
How stupid of her! Gabriela would almost certainly be going back to Florence the following day. When she’d gone, she’d have Tom back to herself, and by the time that the two of them met up again in England – which they would probably do – she’d have moved on to another story and Tom would be completely out of her life.
Panic over. Relieved, she sat back in her chair.
Her blurred vision cleared and she saw an aperitif on the table in front of her. She’d been in such state she hadn’t even noticed the waiter putting it down, nor that the others were holding their glasses in the air, waiting for her to join them in a toast. You’ve gotta get a grip, she told herself, and she picked up her glass.
‘Salute!’ She forced a broad smile to her lips, and glanced around the table.
‘Salute!’ they all chorused.
Gabriela took a sip and put her aperitif back on the table. She leaned across to Tom and seemed to be asking him a question. He smiled warmly at her and began to answer.
She felt Eduardo’s eyes on her, and inwardly groaned. She’d have to say something to him, but all she really wanted to do was eavesdrop on Tom and Gabriela.
Was he satisfied with the way the day had gone, was the best she could come up with in her distracted state.
Happily, it was good enough for him.
‘Si, si!’ he exclaimed, beaming, and he began to extol their day’s purchases.
Leaning slightly to the side, she strained to hear what Tom and Gabriela were saying, but she couldn’t make anything out. She edged still closer to Tom, but it was no use – they were talking too quietly.
Eduardo had stopped speaking, she suddenly realised. ‘Interessante,’ she swiftly said, hoping that whatever he’d said could be described as interesting.
‘Grazie mille.’ He smiled warmly at her, and to her great relief, started talking again.
She was just beginning to wonder whether she dared move even closer to Tom or if it would look like she was trying to sit on his lap when it dawned on her that Eduardo’s tone of voice had changed. Blast, she thought, and turned her attention back to him. How did someone with such striking red hair come to speak such perfect Italian, he wanted to know.
Treble fuck! So much for her finding a way of butting into Tom and Gabriela’s conversation. She’d never be able to get away with the occasional interessante now.
Making a massive effort to swallow her annoyance at having to answer Eduardo rather than listen to her neighbours, she fixed her eyes firmly on the silver chain visible t
hrough his lilac open-necked shirt and began to rattle off the details of her family background and the year she’d spent in Lake Garda.
If she’d had any hope of bringing the conversation to a speedy conclusion, they were dashed the minute she heard the excitement in Eduardo’s voice at her mention of Lake Garda. His family had a house on the edge of the lake, he exclaimed in delight, and he used to go there all the time when he was younger. To her misery, he started listing all the places they both might know.
As she verbally ticked off the places on his list, her gaze kept on straying to Tom and Gabriela. They were bent close to each other. He clearly wasn’t bothered about keeping any kind of wall between him and Gabriela, she thought tetchily – if either of them moved an inch forward, they’d bang their heads together. And serve them right, too.
She forced her attention back to Eduardo. His dark eyes were staring intently at her face. She shifted uneasily in her chair under his gaze. His eyes moved to Tom, then back to her, and they stayed on her, gradually softening with understanding. And deep regret.
Oh, hell! He’d got hold of the wrong end of the stick and he thought she was keen on Tom. He’d mistaken her professional concern about Tom getting close to Gabriela for an emotional fear of losing him to another woman. She should have been much more guarded in the way she’d behaved. She’d intended to make it clear to Eduardo that they’d never be any more than good friends, but she hadn’t wanted him to come to that conclusion by himself, and for the wrong reasons. Damn!
‘So you think that English food is the bees’ knees, do you?’ she heard Gabriela ask, laughing in disbelief as she picked up her menu.
She stared at Gabriela for a moment, and then turned to Eduardo and asked how Gabriela came to speak such perfect English when he didn’t know a single word.
He giggled. Gabriela had been a good girl at school, he told her, a mischievous glint in his eye, and he had been a very naughty boy. Drawing plans for houses was much more fun than learning how to say ‘I am; you are; he is’, so he drew houses while Gabriela learnt to say ‘I am’.