Venetian Valentine

by Kristian Parker

  I leapt out of my skin as a crash reverberated around me and a hand grabbed hold of the balcony, knocking the wine over me in the process. My heart racing, I jumped to my feet.

  The hand belonged to Sergio, grappling with the balcony to try to control his wobbling gondola. The occupants were a little green and gripping onto the sides for dear life. My heart rate didn’t slow as Sergio smiled his most adorable apologetic smile at me.

  “I am so sorry, handsome prince.”

  A waiter appeared with a tea towel and shooed him away.

  “My sincere apologies,” he said, patting me down then seating me again. “Another glass is coming straight up.”

  As I stood a minute later to go to my room, I saw the tourists disembarking with a huff, but Sergio still stared across at me.

  He bowed a little and did a funny dance. I made a hasty retreat with laughter from all around ringing in my ears.

  It had been a busy day with sights and shopping. I took my new glass of wine to the safety of my room and promptly fell fast asleep.

  I woke up in almost pitch darkness, just the streetlights shining in. It was eight o’clock. Not a chance that a night in Venice would escape me, even though I could easily have rolled over and gone back to sleep. With determination, I threw on a black shirt and jeans and made my way out into the night.

  The ever-popular masks were out in full force, and at night they gave the streets a most macabre feel. Surrounded by lavish white, gold or silver affairs, bejewelled and stunning, I instantly regretted not getting one for myself. Unsurprisingly, the restaurants were packed to the rafters and I couldn’t get in anywhere. Even the bars were heaving. Where had all these people appeared from?

  Feeling like Cinderella watching everyone else at the party, I wandered back to the hotel. On the way, I found a small shop selling bread, meat and wine. I couldn’t help but laugh—I was standing in one of the culinary capitals of the world…contemplating a ham sandwich for my dinner.

  Almost at the hotel, I perked up seeing Sergio packing away his gondola for the night. All the other boats were covered in tarpaulin and their owners probably in some of the bars I had just walked past.

  “Mi scusi.”

  He bounded over.

  “I am so sorry for spilling your wine earlier.”

  I laughed nervously. Without all his friends heckling us, I took the time to really take all of him in. He had to be a little older than me and so tan and muscular. I found myself hoping this could be more than just silly flirting on his part. He caught me looking and gave me a wink. I decided I was going to be brave this time.

  “That’s okay. I don’t think your customers were very pleased, though,” I said.

  He held his hands up. “I am new. I am only covering for my brother. He has a new baby.”

  “Lovely. Boy or a girl?”

  “A girl. The image of her Uncle Sergio.”

  “Let’s hope she’s better at steering a boat.”

  Crestfallen, he scuffed his feet against the pavement. I worried I had taken it too far and offended him. Perhaps eating a lonely ham sandwich in my room was more me than flirting with this man.

  “Well, good night.”

  He thought for a minute. His face screwed up and he glanced shyly at me.

  “How about a free ride?”

  I hadn’t expected this. It would be cold before long but the chance to go on the boat couldn’t be thrown away.

  “I’m not sure.”

  “Please, so I don’t go to sleep with tears.”

  I laughed. “Okay, you’re on.”

  He frowned. “On what?”

  “Sorry, it’s an English phrase.”

  “Does it mean yes?”

  I nodded. “It means yes.”

  Chapter Three

  He led me to his gondola and helped me aboard. A rush of excitement flooded through me when I took his incredibly strong hand and stepped on. He held my hand a little too long before bowing slightly.

  “Your highness.”

  Once I had settled in the boat, he covered me with a blanket. I jumped as he tucked it around me and squeezed my shoulder.

  “To keep you warm. It is cold tonight, no?”

  I was feeling decidedly warm. He pushed off, and we started to cruise through the narrow canals. I couldn’t believe the silence that instantly enveloped us. I heard nothing except for the gentle splashing of his oar as he pushed us through the aquatic thoroughfares. As far as taxi rides went, this beat any black cab in Central London.

  The buildings reached up either side, transporting me to a time when gondolas were the only way to travel around this beautiful city. All the rich merchants had had a gondola, and I didn’t blame them. It must have been quite the sight to see thousands of vessels, their occupants shouting greetings to each other.

  My inner Italian fully switched on, I leant back on the cushions as we floated to our destination. Not that I knew where we were going. I could hear my friends yelling at me for taking a silly risk and felt inside my pocket for my phone. I didn’t know what I expected Jodie to do back at home, but it reassured me even so. I had been under Matt’s thumb for too long and look where that had got me. Tonight I would live a little.

  Masked people were on every bridge. Some waved at the lone gondola operating out of hours. I wondered if they thought me someone important? Probably not in my jeans. I liked to think they were residents having secret affairs, rather than tourists participating in a centuries-old tradition.

  “As a special treat, I will take you to a place where we don’t usually go.”

  “That would be lovely.”

  “Are we on?”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. “Yes, Sergio, we are on.”

  I lost track of where we were and maybe I had put a lot of trust into a man I knew nothing about. Too late to worry now. I had to get used to this new risk-taking me, on the lookout for adventure.

  The boat came to an abrupt stop, bringing me out of my thoughts with a bump. We were moored by a small square that was deserted. All the noise and light came from a tavern on the opposite side.

  Again, Sergio helped me out of the craft and smiled as I brushed past him. I returned a wry smile.

  “This is where I treat you to some real Italian food. Not the rubbish you have in that bag.”

  He took my bag and threw it into the gondola.

  “I promise you, you won’t be needing that.”

  I eagerly followed him across the square and into the tavern. Inside the decorations of all the tourist traps were long gone, and instead old, curling pictures of local people celebrating adorned the walls. The tables were covered in plastic and it all felt a bit bleak. I wondered why Sergio had brought me here. It soon became apparent—the owner and locals treated him like a king as soon as they saw him, which I could tell he absolutely adored.

  He turned to me to introduce me and stopped. “I have no idea of your name.”

  “I’m Andrew.”

  “Andrew, this is Francesco, and he does the best food in the land.”

  The smiling man ushered us to our table, and wine soon appeared.

  “Are you allowed to drink and gondola?”

  Sergio winked. “I won’t tell if you don’t.”

  We raised a glass to Venice and Valentine’s.

  “How come you are the only person on this island on their own?”

  I bristled a little at the directness of his question. His crystal-blue eyes were searching into me.

  “My ex bought me this trip as a twenty-fifth birthday present, but I found out he was a cheating swine. So, I came on my own.”

  A look of anger appeared on Sergio’s face. “He must be a fool to cheat on you. Who would want anything more?”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. “That is exceptionally smooth, Sergio. How about you?”

  “I have not long been back. I grew up here but spent a few years in Rome. It didn’t work out for me, so I have come back to help my brother.”


  “Ah, the family business.”

  “That’s right. Gondolas have been in my family for centuries.”

  “You would think you would be better at steering them then.”

  Sergio leant forward. “Who is to say I crashed by mistake?”

  The meal went on like that, flirtation mixed with sincerity. I struggled not to get lost in Sergio’s eyes. He told me about his misspent youth in Rome where he had worked the bars and the men. The glint that never left his eyes had most certainly been earned. I thought my life in London before Matt had been exciting, but it had been almost cloistered in comparison to some of Sergio’s adventures. The rational me would usually run away from a man like this. But I’d never had a holiday romance before. It was time to seize the moment and not overthink things.

  Incredible food accompanied his stories. Grilled sardines gave way to a creamy mushroom risotto, then a succulent cuttlefish casserole, all washed down with ice-cold white wine. I couldn’t think of a more perfect night.

  How many other men or women or both had succumbed to Sergio’s spell in this place? I was probably his latest victim and couldn’t help laughing to myself. If Matt could see me now, he would be amazed. He’d always told me how boring and dull I acted.

  “What makes you laugh?”

  “I’m just happy to be here.”

  He leaned across and took my hand. “I am glad you are here too.”

  He wouldn’t hear of me paying when it came time to leave.

  “This is turning out to be the best glass of wine I ever had spilt on me.”

  “Ah, and the night is still ours.”

  He put his hand on the small of my back as we walked across the piazza towards where we’d left the boat. The clock struck ten, the chimes reverberating around the narrow alleys and coming back to us like some fairy tale.

  He ushered me through a small archway. Before I knew it, he pulled me back towards him and up against the wall. My heart hammered with his breath on me.

  Wordlessly, he leaned in for a kiss, a kiss I had no intention of fighting. His stubble scratched against my skin and, as his lips gently touched mine, my whole body tingled. It felt like my first-ever kiss. Luckily, he still held me by the shoulders, because I worried my legs were going to give way.

  The light kiss became something deeper, his tongue gently licking my top lip. My whole body cried out for his. I pulled my arms free and ran my hands up his back. The muscles I found there were hard. Something else pressed hard against me. A good sign. I pulled him closer. I never wanted this kiss to end.

  He moved back and smiled, stroking my hair.

  “I should return you to your hotel.”

  “You should accompany me to my hotel,” I corrected.

  “That would be my pleasure.”

  Chapter Four

  Floating back to the gondola park held a sweet kind of torture. I turned around in my seat and watched him pushing us along, his strong arms silhouetted in the moonlight…arms that I knew I would have around me before the end of the night.

  “Do you want me to sing you a song or something?”

  “No, thank you. I’m happy here just watching you.”

  He winked at me. “You will be happier soon. That is a Sergio promise.”

  His lines bordered on corny, but with his ridiculously handsome features and sexy Italian accent, he could pull it off. I was more than prepared to be putty in his hands.

  Then everything turned upside down.

  A blood-curdling scream made me spin round just in time to see a body fall from a window above us. It smashed into the gondola, breaking it cleanly in two. Sergio fell from his perch, straight into the canal. Dragged down the rapidly sinking half of the boat, I saw what looked to be a woman in a police uniform floating in the water.

  I desperately tried to hold on, but the remains of the gondola were disappearing. I grabbed her and held her afloat. My feet kept scraping along the bottom of the canal as she pushed me under with her weight. All I could think was I shouldn’t swallow any of the water. Sergio had managed to make it to some steps leading into the canal.

  “Help me,” I shouted, her weight too much.

  He leaned forward, his hands just out of reach. With strength I never knew I had, I pushed her towards him. Between the two of us, we managed to get her up the steps and over the railing.

  She moaned, barely conscious, but holding out a mobile phone, pressed it into my hand. “Antonio Valeri,” she managed.

  With that, she passed out.

  “Oh my God, what do we do?”

  Sergio had frozen, just staring at the woman.

  “Sergio!”

  The building she had fallen from had faded orange plaster peeling everywhere and appeared as though it hadn’t had occupants for many a year. Right at the top, in an arched window, stood a figure in a jet-black Venetian mask. I leapt backwards in shock.

  Sergio grabbed me. “What is it?”

  Before I could answer him, a commotion erupted from the end of the street. Three policemen ran towards us and they didn’t look friendly. Back in the window, the figure had gone. Nothing about this felt right.

  “We have to get out of here,” I cried.

  Without any further discussion, Sergio grabbed my hand and, with a kind of superhuman strength, pulled me in the opposite direction to the police.

  The alleyways of Venice swallowed us up as we ran. My feet tried to keep up with Sergio, but he ran faster than me. I put the phone in my soaking jacket pocket. The shouts of the police were ringing in my ears as we turned this way and that. My heart almost came up through my mouth as we sped over a bridge. I struggled to keep my balance as we hurtled down the other side and veered a sharp left. Sergio pushed our way through people lingering in the alleys.

  I had no idea where we were going but Sergio seemed to know these streets like the back of his hand. I couldn’t catch my breath and worried I would pass out at any moment. I couldn’t let that happen.

  “Sergio, I need to stop.”

  We cowered in a doorway of a shoe shop as I tried to regulate my breathing. Clearly, I did not have the fitness levels of my gondolier. Sergio’s eyes were darting this way and that as I tried to regain my breath.

  “I think we’ve lost them,” I panted.

  The streets were busy. So many carnival revellers meandered here and there, shouts of laughter and screams of delight filling the air. Most people were going out to party, and they gave us cover for the moment, but the police would be through here before we knew it.

  “We’re nearly there now,” said Sergio. “Can you continue?”

  Before I could ask where we were aiming for, I froze. A figure in a black mask appeared at the end of the alley where we’d come from and was advancing towards us.

  “Run!” I yelled.

  I don’t know how I managed it, but this time I pulled Sergio to action, bundling him in front of me to lead the way. He soon took control again and I followed him as he wove in and out of people, not making it look too obvious but putting as many of them between us and the man as possible.

  We came out next to the bookshop where I had spent a lovely hour buying books I would never read. Another figure in a black mask tried to cut us off at the top of the street but a tiny alleyway opened to our left. Venice seemed to always provide an alley when needed. We ran through it, bouncing off the walls as we kept our speed up.

  A restaurant owner was pulling down her shutters with a crash as we veered through a small square, sending her chairs spiralling. This time I managed to glance back and saw one of the figures coming out of the alley we’d just darted from. Now there were two of them and they were picking up speed. A church illuminated our way as we ran over another bridge and before I knew it, we were coming down the alley which led to my hotel. I couldn’t believe we’d made it here so quickly. It had taken me most of the afternoon to get from the bookshop back here.

  Sergio pushed me up against the wall. “We must control our br
eathing.”

  Our clothes were still soaking from our dunking in the canal. I shivered partly from the cold and partly from the terror gripping me harder now we’d stopped.

  “I am just someone you have met who you are bringing back to your hotel.”

  I nodded and desperately tried to pull myself together.

  Finally, ready, I led him into the hotel. As luck would have it, the reception area lay empty save for a tourist having an argument with the night porter about the heating not working.

  “Slowly now,” said Sergio.

  His hand found its way to the small of my back again and calmed me a little. I didn’t have to worry about anyone noticing us—the employee and guest were far too busy arguing loudly about the heating.

  It seemed to take an age for the old lift to come down to our level. Sergio nuzzled my ear then smiled. He played the part of a gondolier getting lucky with a tourist brilliantly. To be fair, it didn’t seem too much of a stretch for him. I tried to play along, but I could have burst into tears at any moment. Now I’d stopped running, my mind had started to catch up and panic had begun to set in.

  Just as the lift arrived, my heart sank as the guest who had been arguing joined us.

  “Evening.”

  “Good evening,” I managed with a very weak smile.

  To my dismay, we all got into the car. I pressed the second-floor button and he pressed the fourth.

  With a screech, the lift doors dragged themselves closed but I knew I wouldn’t feel safe until we got into my room. The maddeningly slow elevator started to crawl upwards, the mechanism complaining all the way. Was this last serviced by Casanova himself?

  “No heating,” said the guest, rolling his eyes.

  “It is very cold tonight,” said Sergio with a smile.

  “You’re telling me. You two look like you took a plunge.”

  I couldn’t explain our appearance.

  “Carnival week is a crazy week.” Sergio shrugged.

  The guest laughed at our apparent recklessness.

  I could have cried with relief when the door opened and we were on my floor.

  “Good night then.”