by Donna Alward
“Oh, Mama, I love you,” Gabi said, and she went for a hug.
Will waited while everyone said their goodbyes, and told Lucia to give Massimo their love. By the time they finally left the hospital, it was nearly eight p.m. Will had awakened at six that morning and had heard Gabi already up and about. She had to be ready to drop by now.
“Let’s get you home, and then I’ll head to a hotel,” he said. “You need sleep.”
Gabi looked up at him and shook her head. “You don’t need a hotel. I have a spare room. You can stay with me, and go straight to the airport tomorrow. If you want to.”
And just like that she’d put the decision on him. He knew what he wanted and knew what he should do and they weren’t the same thing at all. Sleeping in her spare room, knowing she was there, too, in a bed alone, was a torturous thought. Going to a lonely hotel was no better.
“Let’s get you home first and maybe some actual dinner, and then we’ll see.”
Once outside she took a deep breath and let it out, as if shaking off the weight of the world. She rolled her shoulders a bit. “Do you want me to drive?” she asked. “I know the city. My flat is about ten minutes away.”
“Sure, if you want to.” He dug in his pocket for the keys, and before long Gabi was behind the wheel, navigating her way out of the hospital and through the city streets.
It seemed no time at all before she pulled up in front of a building and parked on the street. “This is me,” she said, looking up at a nondescript three-story building with affection. “My flat is the top two floors. I got lucky with it. The neighborhood is quiet and lovely, and it’s a nice walk to the historic center. The offices are on the other side of the city, so I drive or take transit. But I fell in love with this place and I’ve lived here for four years, ever since I started working at Baresi.”
He got out and started to open the back door for his bag, when she said, “No, wait. Before we go up, I need food. I haven’t been home in weeks. The cupboard is most definitely bare and there’s nothing in the refrigerator. Leave your bag. We’ll only be a few minutes.”
It was only a short walk to a street with a smattering of cafés, a few markets and one pizzeria that smelled heavenly. “You can get pizza if you want,” she said, “but my favorite thing of all is their porchetta sandwiches. Let’s get the basics first and come back.”
At the market they stocked up on coffee, bread, butter and, at Will’s insistence, eggs. “I’m dying for a mess of eggs,” he confessed. “I could make you an omelet. I need cheese, and good ham—”
“You’re in the right part of Italy for good ham,” she replied, and their basket got fuller. Tomatoes and mushrooms followed, and Gabi insisted on truffles, and then there was wine. By the time they paid, they were both carrying two bags each.
“Now for sandwiches,” she said, and they popped into the pizzeria. Will stood back while she talked and joked in Italian with the young man behind the counter. He could only pick up a few words, because they were speaking so fast, but he didn’t mind. Gabi’s face was relaxed and animated. She’d needed to come home, he realized. Not just to the villa but to the home she’d made for herself. For the first time, he felt like he was finally seeing the real Gabi, and he liked her even more. This was her neighborhood and these were her people. They knew her and liked her. A young woman, very pregnant, came around the counter and gave her a hug. Will picked up enough Italian to know she asked about Massimo, and Gabi answered briefly.
The young man handed over a bag of sandwiches and then a separate bag with a wink. When Gabi protested, he waved his hands and walked away. “Grazie!” she called out, and then they were headed to the door again.
“What’s in the other bag?” Will asked as they stepped outside again.
“Tiramisu that Bianca made this morning. Bianca is his wife. Expecting their third baby any day now. I probably eat there more than I should, but...”
He nudged her elbow. “They’re your friends. It’s lovely. Remember that curry place I told you about? I felt the same way. I walked in and it felt like being welcomed into their family.”
“It’s nice, isn’t it?”
“Very.”
They were already back at her door. “Let’s take this up first, and come back for the bags.”
He followed her up the stairs to the third floor. There was no elevator, but he didn’t mind. She unlocked her door and they stepped inside. It was hot; the windows had been shut up while she was gone, and as soon as she put her bags on the counter, she went to the French doors and opened them to reveal a small balcony. Fresh air rushed into the flat. “Phew, that’s better,” she said. “It’s stuffy in here.”
It was lovely. He remembered she’d said the flat was two floors. What he could see was a small but well-equipped kitchen, an airy living space with a sofa and two chairs and a small powder room off to one side. “How many bedrooms?” he asked, curious. It was really quite a lovely space.
“Two,” she replied, opening the refrigerator. She put the tiramisu inside, and then started to put away the perishables from the market. “I have the extra for Giulia or Mama and Papa.”
“Your father...he commutes?”
“Yes. But the offices are closer to the villa than we are now.”
“They sold the house in town for financial reasons, right?”
Gabi paused and met his gaze. “Yes. Not as an emergency, but as a way of...streamlining. But I can’t be sorry they kept the villa. It will always be the first place I think of when I think of home.”
He wiggled his fingers for the keys. “You do this, and I’ll get the bags. I’m starving.”
She nodded and handed them over. Will jogged down the stairs and retrieved their bags. Gabi’s suitcase was huge, and by the time he reached the top he was breathing heavily.
Gabi laughed at him when he stepped inside, and he grinned. “What do you have in here, bricks?”
“It’s what I had at Chatsworth and what I was taking on my honeymoon. I really don’t keep my things at the villa. Here, sit down outside and I’ll bring you the best sandwich you’ve ever eaten.”
He was expecting wine, since she seemed to prefer it, so he was surprised when she brought the sandwich on a plate and a cold beer to drink.
It was perfect in its simplicity. Crusty bread, sliced pork...and nothing else. But the porchetta was like nothing he’d ever eaten. There were flavors of rosemary and then the crispy skin and the tender flesh that all combined into something extraordinary.
“Oh. I get it now.”
She grinned, the smile spreading from ear to ear. “See? I told you.”
“This is amazing. How do you not eat this every day?”
She laughed. “I like vegetables. But I won’t lie, I buy one of Gio’s sandwiches once a week as a treat.”
He took two more bites and the gnawing in his stomach started to ease. He sat back a bit and toyed with his beer bottle, and looked at the view. “This is incredible. You can see so much of the city from up here.”
“I fell in love with it,” she said quietly. “It was the view that sold me. I don’t need a large place for just me, but I stepped out here and took a deep breath and that was it. It’s an entirely different view, but it reminds me of looking down over the valley from the olive groves at the villa. It felt familiar, and I liked that.”
“It’s the feeling, not the actual view,” he said, understanding. “It’s how I feel in the orchard at the château.”
“You mean at the bench where we...” She blushed a little and turned away. “You took me there on purpose, didn’t you?”
“I needed the calm and I thought you did, too. Caused us some bother, though, didn’t it?”
She laughed. “You know, if someone took a photo of us now, I don’t think I’d mind as much as I did then.”
He took another drink of bee
r, met her gaze and said, “Me, either.”
They were quiet for long minutes, finishing their sandwiches, enjoying the solitude, not feeling compelled to make conversation. It was comfortable. Wonderful. William had never experienced anything like it in his life. Not with any of the women he’d dated or in any relationship. He’d always felt he had to be “on.” Sparkling conversation. Endless charm. This being easy and comfortable with each other was new and he liked it. A lot.
Gabi got up, took their plates and went inside. When she came back, she had the dessert with her and two forks. He really didn’t need sweets, but it looked too gorgeous to turn away.
Gabi tasted hers, then said, “So, I haven’t asked you this before, but...there’s no girlfriend, is there?”
His head lifted sharply. “What? No. Of course not. I wouldn’t have...especially at the villa...if there were.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you.”
“You didn’t. Surprised me, yes. But considering your last relationship—Stephen not included—you have a right to ask.”
“Do I? What right? We’re friends. That’s all.”
He wasn’t sure he was ready for this conversation. He should have flown home. Avoided this whole thing. Because he was probably going to have to lie to her, and he hated that. Still, after Stephen’s abrupt departure, Will really didn’t want to create a big rift in the family. Not when they were already fragmented by his father’s death.
“Gabi...we both know this is more complicated than either of us like. Not just the situation, but...feelings.” He was stopping and starting so much he figured he sounded like an idiot. “Maybe I should get a hotel for tonight.”
Her eyes widened. “What if I don’t want you to get a hotel?”
Her question surprised him. “What are you suggesting? We established that we were friends—”
“Even you can’t fool yourself into believing that,” she interrupted, twisting her fingers together on the tabletop. “This isn’t easy for me, either. But tomorrow you are leaving. We both know it. You have a life to get back to, and Papa...he’s through his surgery. I have a company to run and so do you. But tonight...”
She turned quite red as she chanced a look up at him. “Tonight you’re here. And no one else is.”
“Gabi...”
“If you don’t want to, that’s fine. We’ll part as friends and that will be that. But if you do...want to, that is, I—I’m...” She was stuttering a bit now, nervous and insecure. She shouldn’t be. He couldn’t remember ever wanting a woman more.
“No one needs to know,” she finished. “I mean, we can be discreet.”
It felt like sneaking around, hiding things, when in reality he wished it were different and they could try being together. “And then what?” he asked, his voice hoarse. He didn’t know why he was giving her a reason to change her mind, other than he wanted her to be very sure this was what she wanted.
He did. So very much. It wasn’t just that she was beautiful, though she was. It was how she loved her family. How she stood up to Stephen. Even the warmth and grace with which she spoke to her neighbors. He liked her as a person, desired her as a woman.
“I don’t want you to have any regrets,” he said.
“My only regret would be letting you walk away tomorrow without taking this chance.” Her voice was soft and rode over his nerve endings like silk. “It isn’t just chemistry, Will. You’re the right kind of man at the wrong time, but at least I might be able to keep the memory of a wonderful night.”
“Gabi,” he replied, knowing she would have her way. Why not, when it was what he wanted, too? He was tired of the heavy weight of his loyalty dragging him down. She was right. She was also the right kind of woman at the wrong time, and he wished with all his heart that he might have met her first. But he hadn’t, and so if tonight was all they’d have, he’d make sure it was a memory worth keeping.
Were they being crazy? Reckless? Probably. Was it a bad thing? Maybe, maybe not. After their kisses against the olive tree, he’d known this was what he wanted. “Here,” he said, tapping his lap. “I want to hold you in my arms and watch the sun disappear.”
“Oh, Will...”
“We have time, Gabi. If this is our only night, I don’t want to rush it.”
* * *
Gabi perched on his knee, then leaned back against his shoulder. The evening air was cooling but Will was so perfectly warm. His right arm came around her, holding her in place. The light was soft as it touched the trees, gaps in the green tops punctuated by ancient buildings in the town’s historic center.
This was her favorite place on a summer evening, and to share it with Will made it even more special.
He was so unexpected. So perfect. But she tried to imagine walking into a Pemberton family function on his arm and knew it was impossible. This really was all they had, and she wanted to soak in every precious second.
His fingers grazed down her arm, stroking back and forth, as she pointed out the general area of landmarks like the Arco Etrusco and the Piazza IV Novembre. How she wished she could keep him to herself for a few days, walk the cobbled streets, take him to the gallery. Show him the city she called home. An emptiness opened up inside, knowing it could never be what she wanted.
She couldn’t think that way, not now. They must embrace and enjoy every moment they had together.
“Is it strange that just sitting like this is wonderful?” he murmured, his lips close to her ear.
Goose bumps rose on her arms at the warmth of his breath on her neck. “I was thinking the same thing. It’s as close to perfect as I can think of right now.”
He shifted, so her knees were over his lap and her arm was around his neck. “Gabi, these last two weeks—not even—have been the craziest and best I have ever had. How is that even possible?” He shook his head with wonder. “I was so angry with you, and then I admired you, and then I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”
“I know,” she answered. “I feel the same. And I felt so wrong, too. Because you’re Stephen’s brother. I was supposed to be the problem and you were supposed to be the enemy, and honestly, after about twenty minutes I couldn’t think of you that way.”
“My brother’s a damned fool.”
“Let’s make that the last time we mention your brother tonight, shall we?” She curled in closer. “Tonight is about you and me. Only you and me.”
And then Gabi leaned forward and touched her lips to his, something they hadn’t done since the olive grove.
He tasted like beer and hints of espresso and cream from the tiramisu, and a particular flavor that was just Will. His lips opened and invited her in, and she made a little noise of surrender as she pressed herself closer, looping her knees over the arm of the chair and wrapping her other hand around his neck. He leaned forward a little, bracing her back with one strong arm, and deepened the kiss.
And still he didn’t hurry. Instead they took their time, kissing on her balcony, letting the lights of Perugia come on, blinking and twinkling as darkness settled.
His hand slid out of her hair and over her shoulder, then down over her breast.
“Mmm.” She arched into his palm, loving the sensation. “That feels so good.”
In response, his thumb flicked over her nipple, and she gasped into his mouth. “Will...”
“We should go inside, before we give your neighbors a free show,” he suggested.
She knew he was right. Once inside, she led him through the flat to the stairs, and began the climb to her bedroom. The air was warmer as they approached the second floor, and once inside her bedroom, she went to the window, opening it wide to let in the cooling air.
“I’m sorry it’s so warm,” she apologized.
“Don’t be. It’ll be cooler with our clothes off.” He grinned at her again, and she figured her whole body fl
ushed at his suggestion. Goodness, she wasn’t some green virgin. Why did he have the power to embarrass her so?
“Are you nervous, Gabriella?”
“A little.”
“Me, too.”
“Why are you nervous?” she asked.
“We may only have tonight,” he said, “but it feels important, don’t you think? I don’t want to screw it up.”
“Oh, Will. You couldn’t. I promise.” She went to him. “You’re the most decent man I’ve ever met. You’re handsome and sexy and kind and funny and you make me crazy. I want to touch you everywhere and have you touch me. I want you to kiss me like you never want to stop. I want you to make love to me, Will. Because I trust you. I trust you with me, and that isn’t something that happens very often.”
Especially not now, after living a lie for so long. But Will...he was different. She knew it deep inside, where it mattered.
He didn’t answer. He gathered her in his arms for a passionate kiss that emptied her brain of anything but him. She fumbled with the buttons of his shirt; he pulled her top over her head, leaving her standing in her bra and trousers. Wordlessly she reached for the button and zip on her pants and let them drop to the floor, stepping out of them to stand before him in lacy peekaboo panties that matched the bra. His nostrils flared as he looked at her, his eyes glowing in the twilight of the room. Then he undid the button of his jeans and took them off, so he was standing in a pair of dark boxer briefs.
“Touch me, then,” he invited, and she closed the distance between them in a nanosecond. His breath hissed as she pressed against him, skin to skin, and cupped him in her hand.
“God,” he groaned. “I didn’t expect that.”
“I’m not shy,” she replied, moving her hand. “I want all of this, Will. I want to give and I want to take. Oh, your skin is so warm.” Her abdomen grazed his, and she marveled at the beautiful feeling of skin against skin. Was there anything sexier?