From Italy With Love

by Jules Wake

The consommé was exactly what he needed, although he only managed half of it. As she held the bowl, eating gave him time to think and also purged some of the fuzziness from his brain. Memories began to trickle through, fairly random and still leaving a number of blanks in places.

  He remembered driving. Feeling ill. Really, really ill. Then being in a bathroom. Lying on a cold tile floor, his head resting on the loo seat. Laurie there, wrapping him in a towel. Feeling really ill, wanting-to-die type ill, with his stomach aching as if it had been scoured out by an industrial digger.

  Laurie half dragging and supporting him to the bed. Tucking him in.

  He closed his eyes. Shit. Talk about making a complete dick of himself.

  Welcoming the softness of the pillow, he tried hard not to squirm with embarrassment. And he’d just bawled her out for shopping.

  He’d been out for a day and a half. Christ, no wonder he felt so drained. Although the soup was refreshing most parts.

  It was noticeable she didn’t say a word as he ate; just nodded encouragement, watching impassively, as he spooned in each mouthful. Once he laid down the spoon in defeat, she didn’t nag or try to persuade him to take some more. She simply took the bowl and laid it on the side and pushed the bottle of water nearer.

  He closed his eyes, thankful for her restful manner, unable to find the energy to move. She pulled the covers up over his shoulders, soothed hair from his forehead with the gentle touch of a mother and then he felt her weight leave the bed. Laying there he listened, cutlery tapping china as she ate her own meal, the soft movements of her about the room and outside the coo of pigeons and distant traffic. He didn’t fall asleep but remained conscious of her presence. At one point he heard the click of the side lamps.

  She brought with her a sense of peace and it was easy to lie still drifting between sleep and unconsciousness. Although he felt lousy, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt such a sense of contentment. He liked his own company and clearly she was happy in hers. She made no demands on him. Let him be.

  When he did open his eyes he could see her, curled in a chair in a pool of light by the window, absorbed in her e-reader. Through half-open lids he watched as every now and then her eyes would cast his way as if to check on him. Something was different about her.

  Although he felt dopey, sleep danced just out of reach but he felt happy to lie there thinking and trying to figure out what it was. It was only when the lights snapped off and he heard the run of water and the hiss of the shower, that it came to him. Something about the way she held her head, as if a weight had been lifted.

  He almost came to with a start when he felt the bed beside him dip. It seemed such an un-Laurie like thing to do. He quickly changed his mind as he realised she was doing her best to keep as still as possible, moving with deliberately slow movements as she climbed into bed, slipping between the sheets next to him.

  She’d been nothing but kindness to him and all he’d done was grumble at her.

  ‘Laurie,’ he whispered.

  As she rolled over to face him, he caught the scent of lemon verbena, his own shower gel. The bathroom light was still on and he could see her face, her eyes wide and uncertain.

  ‘Thanks for looking after me.’ He reached out to give her arm a squeeze. ‘Sorry I wasn’t very grateful.’

  ‘It’s fine. I’m sorry you were worried. I had to go out …’

  ‘Ssh, you don’t have to explain. It was very kind of you to look after me but—’

  ‘No, you don’t understand.’ A frown puckered her brow. ‘My luggage got stolen. I had to go out and replace everything.’ Her face lightened, a secretive smile playing at her lips.

  ‘Everything?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘So that’s why you’ve been pinching my shower gel,’ he teased.

  ‘Sorry,’ she gave him an unapologetic smile, ‘I didn’t get round to replacing my toiletries.’

  ‘God I hope you didn’t replace that hideous black dress.’

  ‘Cam!’ Playfully she hit him, her arm arcing across his chest. ‘That’s really mean.’

  Her quick grin belied her words.

  ‘I said the dress was hideous, not you.’ Without thinking he grabbed her arm and pressed his lips against her inner wrist in a kiss of apology against it. Her soft, satin skin smelt clean and fresh. A memory of last night, of her holding him, soothing him, flared.

  He wanted to hold her, to reciprocate – if he was honest to feel that sense of safety and security again. Laurie’s air of serenity and calm gave him a sense of being grounded. Giving into instinct he pulled her arm down to rest on his chest and placed his hand over it. ‘Thank you for looking after me last night.’

  ‘You remember?’

  She stilled and tensed, he stroked her wrist.

  He closed his eyes, the rhythmic motion of his own hand and the feel of her arm warm and heavy on his chest, lulling him to sleep.

  Waking, she stretched cautiously, lifted her head and immediately realised that there was no one in the bed beside her. No sign of Cam. Phew. Just as well. That quiet gentle interlude just before he fell asleep last night had left her awake for hours. Being so close to his delicious half-naked body had sparked some odd dreams, heated and erotic. She felt confused with a low-grade sexual ache between her legs. What would it be like to sleep with him? He had a body to die for. She’d been a late starter which probably wasn’t helped by the fact that her dad knew what young men were like and quite often scared them off. As a result she’d only ever slept with Robert. Cam had experience, it was written all over him.

  She sank back into the pillow. Get a grip girl. Going down that route with Cam would be asking for trouble. She wasn’t his sort. That girl at the funeral was. Glossy thoroughbreds like her were the sort Cam hung out with.

  Biting her lip, she prayed Robert would never find out she’d shared a bed with Cam. Innocent as it was, she couldn’t see him taking a particularly understanding view. What he didn’t know wouldn’t harm him.

  Where was Cam? She listened but didn’t hear anything. The room and bathroom were empty. Relaxing, she scooped up a pile of her new clothes and took everything into the spacious bathroom.

  Taking her time, enjoying Cam’s toiletries again and regretting forgetting to buy a toothbrush as she rubbed her fingers around her gums with his toothpaste, she took out her plain new underwear, by-passing the frilly lingerie. Then she caught sight of her own wistful face in the mirror. This was stupid. Why deny herself? She tossed the plain white bra aside and slipped on the satin and lace confection. It gave her bust an obvious new definition which she deliberately didn’t admire in the mirror.

  A door slammed and realising Cam was back, she finished dressing quickly and shot out of the bathroom. She didn’t want Cam to think … what? That she was making too much effort.

  ‘Breakfast,’ said Cam as he strode towards to the tall balcony windows without even glancing at her. ‘Croissant and coffee. Pain au chocolat for you.’

  She followed him out onto the sunny balcony to the table where he ripped open the baker’s bags to reveal a glistening croissant.

  ‘I’m absolutely st—’ His double take lit a slow burn of satisfaction low in her stomach. ‘Wow, you look …’ he swallowed, and looked at her chest, ‘… undressed.’

  ‘What?’ she looked down. Shit she’d forgotten to finish buttoning the cornflower T shirt. Her cleavage, pushed up by the new dramatic enhancing boning, was on full display.

  Her skin turned fiery red and she turned her back on him to do up the buttons.

  ‘Sorry.’

  ‘Don’t apologise to me, babe.’ His wicked grin set lights dancing in his eyes. ‘I always appreciate a nice view.’

  The ‘babe’ instantly reminded her how far out of his league she was. Ignoring his flirtatious tone, she sat down at the bistro table.

  ‘I just bet you do,’ she said sweetly.

  ‘Nice colour, suits you … although I guess you know that alr
eady.’

  ‘What’s that supposed to mean? You really do need to work on your lines you know.’

  ‘You mean you didn’t choose that colour to bring out the blue in your eyes?’

  ‘It does?’ Was that some kind of back-handed compliment or a twisted insult?

  ‘It does.’ He nodded gravely, disconcerting her.

  ‘Well thank you, I think. I didn’t choose it, I …’ Saying she’d had a personal shopper sounded awfully decadent and self-indulgent. ‘Thanks for this,’ she said quickly, nodding at her pain au chocolat. ‘How are you feeling? Are you up to eating?’ The view from the balcony kept her from looking directly into his face. No doubt he was still laughing at her.

  ‘My stomach feels as if it’s been scoured out by an industrial digger. I’m starving but nervous about what I eat. I’m not sure I should be drinking coffee but …’ He took a tentative sip, and pulled a blissed out face. ‘That’s much better.’

  ‘You need to eat plain, white food,’ said Laurie. ‘Something light.’

  ‘Doesn’t croissant count?’ he asked reaching for one of flaky crescents.

  She shrugged, ‘I’m not sure but you haven’t been sick for 24 hours, so I think you’ll be ok.’ The colour had come back into his face and he needed to eat something, although he probably felt a lot worse than he was letting on. The way he’d sunk into his chair so quickly suggested the short walk outside had tired him.

  ‘So what time do you want to head off?’

  ‘What? Today?’ Had he looked in the mirror?

  ‘We’re due at the Chateaux Descourts in two days’ time. If we don’t go today, we’ll need to do some straight driving. Toll roads. A to B driving. Boring as shit. And you always get guys trying to take you on.’

  Panic unfurled in her stomach but she managed an impassive face as she toyed with the piece of chocolate poking from the end of her pastry. She’d almost forgotten the strict time schedule. Clearly, despite his illness, Cam hadn’t. Sweet of him, given she was the one who would forfeit the car if she gave up en route.

  ‘We can always ring and explain we’ll be delayed.’ She sounded every bit like the petulant teenager she felt. ‘As long as we get to Maranello on time.’

  ‘Won’t your mother be expecting you − presumably Ron has been in touch with her?’ Cam’s voice was mild as if he was totally disinterested but she could tell by the alert watchfulness on his face he knew.

  ‘I don’t think you’re well enough to drive today. You need to get some strength back. At the moment you look as if a five-year-old could pick a fight with you and win, with both hands tied behind his back.’ And that was being kind.

  ‘And you complain about my compliments.’

  ‘It wasn’t a compliment.’

  ‘You could drive.’ Cam said with resignation in his voice.

  The lack of enthusiasm in the statement made her smile and she raised her eyebrows.

  He shrugged. ‘You managed to get me here.’

  ‘Only because you were too out of it to watch my driving.’

  ‘What if I promise not to make a single comment?’

  ‘Is that possible?’ her smile broke out at the pained expression on his face. Although it would probably be better with him compos mentis this time. Besides what were the chance of them being stopped? It wasn’t as if there wasn’t another adult who’d passed their test in the car. She could drive … it was just she didn’t yet have that bit of paper that said she’d passed her test. ‘Do you think you could manage it?’

  ‘Probably not …’ he gave one his charming grins, ‘but I’ll try really hard.’

  ‘Hmph.’ Was that a dozen pigs she spotted flying over the Paris skyline? ‘One word. Just one word and I’m out of that driving seat in a flash.’

  ‘Scout’s honour,’

  ‘Like they’d let you in the Scouts,’ she snorted, enjoying the devilish gleam in his eyes.

  Chapter 16

  ‘Want to carry on driving?’ asked Cam as they left the roadside café they’d stopped in for lunch.

  ‘Can you bear me to?’

  He considered her for a moment before flashing the smile that made her insides flip.

  ‘Actually you’re not bad. A bit clutch-heavy sometimes … but not too bad.’

  She elbowed him hard in the ribs. ‘For a girl you’re quite good.’

  Coming from Cam that was high praise indeed especially given he didn’t believe anyone could drive the car as well as he could.

  Despite the death stare she levelled at him, he laughed. A joyful burst of light-heartedness which made her smile at him instead of issuing the challenge she wanted. Part of her itched to drive again despite the low-grade headache circling her brow but she shouldn’t tempt fate any more than she already had.

  As always the Ferrari had attracted attention. A man and his son were taking pictures as they approached. She smiled at the sight and a little bubble of pride filled her heart. Her car.

  It took a lot of concentration and focus to drive the car. It needed handling. You couldn’t just lapse into automatic. Driving the Peripherique in this morning’s traffic had been challenging.

  Cam seemed a lot better now, although his appetite still hadn’t returned to full service and he’d refused Jelly Babies this morning. She’d seen to it he’d eaten a good bowl of onion soup and more crusty bread, surprising herself by how bossy she’d been with him and more at how he’d acquiesced. Another sign he wasn’t firing on all cylinders.

  ‘Do you feel up to it?’ she asked, digging in her handbag for the keys, still in two minds as to whether to hand them over or not.

  The laughter sobered. He nodded.

  ‘It’ll give you a break. You probably need one.’ He put up a hand. ‘And not because you’re a girl, this baby takes a lot of work and you’re not used to it. That’s all.’

  ‘Let you off then.’ She gave into the headache and handed the keys over.

  Watching him drive wasn’t exactly a hardship.

  He put the car in reverse and manoeuvred out of the side street. They wound through the small streets until they hit the main road out of town where they settled into a smooth pace.

  Laurie sank back into the seat, relieved after all to take a rest. Under his command the ride was fast and smooth, but he had flair and drove with verve and the arrogant confidence that made her totally secure in his ability. She glanced at Cam’s face; he seemed absorbed in the road. She really should tell him she didn’t have a full licence.

  ‘So, what’s with the new haircut?’

  The idle question surprised her. He hadn’t acknowledged it before and she’d assumed he hadn’t noticed it.

  ‘I got talked into it,’ she said firmly resisting the temptation to ask him if he liked it.

  ‘Suits you,’ observed Cam.

  ‘Thanks.’ As a compliment it was hardly fulsome.

  ‘Mind you, anything on the last one was an improvement.’

  Her head snapped round in time to see the dimple in his cheek fade. A sure sign of one those quick fire grins he used with such lethal effect.

  ‘Your lines just don’t get any better.’

  ‘I was just being honest. Would you rather I lied?’

  ‘No. I should be grateful that you don’t use your lines on me.’

  ‘Lines? What do you think I am? Some kind of playboy.’

  She folded her arms.

  He turned his head to look at her.

  ‘Keep your eyes on the road. I don’t want you totalling my car.’

  ‘Seriously? You think I’m a … Really?’

  His aggrieved tone didn’t fool her. She sniggered. ‘Cam, you’re a ladies man. You were at a damn funeral and you had women lining up. “Oooh Cam, it’s been such a long time. I missed you in Monte Carlo this year. Call me?” The sugary voice she adopted made Cam’s heavy brows arch.

  ‘Tania’s a friend. A good friend.’

  ‘I’ll bet.’ She hated herself for sounding so snide. An
d being so petty. Cam’s world meant that his friends were bound to be of that ilk – gorgeous, clad in designer clothes and worldly-wise. Just like her mother. She glanced at her watch.

  ‘Jealous?’

  ‘As if,’ she snapped a little too quickly, regretting it as soon as she did. Now it sounded as if she were exactly that. ‘I’m not in your league.’ His top flight premier division status in the mating ranks definitely outweighed her third division position.

  ‘True.’ The bastard, he didn’t have to be quite so unchivalrous nodding in agreement and for a moment she felt her fists curling. If he wasn’t driving a couple of thousand pounds worth of metal she would have been sorely tempted to punch him.

  Pointedly she looked out of the passenger window, turning as much of her back on him as was possible in the tiny space. It was a useful wake-up call. In another few hours she’d have to come face to face with the reality of it all. Meeting her mother. This was a helpful reminder.

  ‘I’ve offended you?’ Cam sounded surprised.

  ‘Not at all.’ Laurie said her words dripping with faux sweetness. ‘You’re just being honest. Clearly you outrank me by—’

  ‘Laurie! Get rid of the chip for a moment, I meant if we were talking league tables, you are the better person. Jeez, you really don’t have a very high opinion of me at all, do you?’

  ‘Sorry,’ she said, her voice small.

  They travelled in silence for the next half hour until they pulled up outside a road-side café.

  ‘Do you want me to drive for a while,’ asked Laurie, conscious that he rolled his shoulders as they got up from the table and feeling she ought to make amends. ‘I guess it can get quite uncomfortable for you after a while.’

  ‘I’m fine. I’m used to doing this on my own.’ His mouth curved into a smile, ‘Although it’s much nicer with company.’ The green eyes twinkled as he turned that easy charm on her. Say one thing about him; he didn’t bear a grudge, not like Robert, from whom there’d been another text this morning.

  ‘I bet you say that to all the girls.’ She pursed her lips.

  ‘Only the really pretty ones.’ He grinned, raised his eyebrows at her and hooking his thumbs in his pockets he sauntered off leaving her to admire the view from behind.