Kitabı oku: «A Venetian Affair: A Venetian Passion / In the Venetian's Bed / A Family For Keeps», sayfa 3

Chapter Three

LAURA woke with the memory of the kisses still warm on her lips. A tendency to gaze into space held her up so much as she got ready that Domenico had already arrived when she ran downstairs. He gave her his usual double kiss of greeting and exchanged a few words with Signora Rossi before sweeping Laura out into the steamy, sunlit warmth of the Venice morning.

‘How are you today, cara?’ he enquired as they went in search of breakfast. ‘Did you sleep well?’

‘No,’ she said frankly. ‘Did you?’

He shook his head, sighing. ‘I lay awake listening to the rain and thinking of our kisses.’

‘Snap!’

He laughed and took her hand. ‘I know this now. I am glad you felt the same.’

After a leisurely breakfast Laura insisted they caught a vaporetto instead of an expensive water taxi for the short journey to Murano and stood at the rail within Domenico’s sheltering arm watching the island come nearer, its outline softened and blurred by the saline lagoon climate.

As they drew up alongside he pointed out the island’s ancient canalside porticoes. ‘Some of these have survived from mediaeval times, when Murano was the principal glassmaking centre of Europe and its citizens were the only craftsmen in the world able to produce a mirror.’

‘A pretty vital invention from a woman’s point of view!’

He smiled and smoothed a lock of hair back from her forehead as they left the boat. ‘Allora, before making your choice do you wish to watch our celebrated glass-blowers at work?’

‘I certainly do,’ she assured him.

‘But afterwards, if you see something you like, leave all bargaining to me,’ he advised.

When they reached a door with a ‘fornace’ sign they went inside to watch a demonstration of the ancient craft that had made Murano famous. Laura watched, fascinated, as the glass blower took a blob of molten paste on the end of an iron rod, and with a skilled, dangerous-looking process of twisting, turning and blowing transformed it into a perfect wine goblet.

‘Amazing, Domenico,’ she said as they began a tour of the showroom afterwards. ‘It’s probably all in a day’s work to that man, and nothing new to you, but it looked like pure magic to me.’

‘With you at my side, Laura, everything in Venice is new to me also,’ he said, smiling down at her as she looked at the dazzling array of glass artefacts. ‘Have you something in mind for your friend’s bride gift? What type of house will she live in?’

‘Her fiancé originally bought a flat in a beautiful Georgian house in Pennington, but he now owns the entire property.’ She gestured at some extravagantly modern pieces. ‘Those are wonderful from a technical point of view, but I want something more traditional, to suit their house.’

Laura would have found it hard to resist the pressure from some of the sales staff on her own, but with Domenico on hand they were left in peace to browse.

‘Would she like these?’ he asked, pointing at a display of candlesticks and candelabra. ‘Millefiori is not everyone’s taste, but perhaps she would like the aventurine, which uses gold.’

Laura nodded enthusiastically. ‘Exactly Fen’s sort of thing.’

After lengthy deliberation on style and cost, she eventually chose a pair of tall candlesticks with hair-fine strands of gold twined through their serpentine, tactile curves. Domenico did some efficient haggling, which brought the price down considerably, but in the end Laura decided against having them shipped.

‘Just in case they don’t arrive in time for the wedding,’ she told him. ‘I must have my present ready for the big day. Thanks a lot for the expert bargaining.’

He smiled, and took charge of the gift as they went to catch the vaporetto back to San Marco. ‘So. I have my uses!’

‘Oh, very definitely,’ she assured him, ‘one of which is to tell me who is on the other pillar.’

‘Cosa?’ he said blankly.

‘At the entrance to San Marco. The lion of Venice is on one pillar, but who stands on the other one?’

‘Ah! That is San Teodoro,’ he said, enlightened. ‘Saint Theodore to you. And be warned: superstitious Venetians never walk between the pillars because in the past executions took place there. And now,’ he added, ‘I have a confession to make.’

‘Another one?’ she said, laughing.

‘I went early to the market this morning, and in my hurry afterwards I forgot your shopping again.’

‘Never mind, I can pick it up on my way back to the hotel.’

‘And we shall eat lunch at the apartment. Or we can go out, of course,’ he added quickly.

‘I prefer your apartment.’ She smiled at him as they left the boat. ‘I like it very much, Domenico.’

‘Do you like me very much, also?’ he asked, so utterly serious Laura gave him a startled look.

‘Yes, I do.’

‘Bene!’ he said with satisfaction, and took her hand. ‘Do not worry. I shall not drop the candeliere.’

Laura volunteered to make an omelette to accompany the bread and salad Domenico had bought fresh that morning, and after sizing up the cooker and the pan he gave her she uttered a silent prayer and got to work with butter, eggs and herbs. Domenico watched in approval as for the final touch she gave the pan a brisk shake, folded the omelette in half, and slid two crisp, soft-centred portions onto the plates he had ready.

‘Perfetto,’ he assured her as they began eating.

‘You’re being kind,’ she told him, delighted that her effort had turned out so well.

‘No, I am truthful.’ He smiled as he helped her to salad. ‘The frittata is delicious and so is the chef. This is a very special occasion for me. Except for my mother no woman has ever offered to make lunch for me here.’

Laura didn’t want to hear about other women in Domenico’s apartment. ‘You can make me some tea as my reward,’ she told him.

‘Of course,’ he said, and laid a peeled peach on her plate. ‘But afterwards you must do as we Venetians do and rest for a while before we go on with the day. So this afternoon is it to be the Guggenheim or the Basilica? I do not advise both.’

‘The Basilica. Let’s do ancient today and modern tomorrow—if you still have time to spare for tomorrow?’ she added, flushing.

‘My time is yours until you leave,’ he reminded her as he got up to make her tea. ‘Which is not long now. You must come back again soon, Laura.’

‘Not possible, I’m afraid. I won’t be able to afford another trip to Venice for quite a while,’ she said with regret.

He frowned as he put a teabag in a cup. ‘If cost is a problem I could—’

‘No, you couldn’t, Domenico,’ she said gently.

Instead of arguing, as she’d half expected, he made her tea, added milk, and gave her the cup. ‘First you drink this tea, then you rest in the salotto.’

‘I want to help clear up,’ she objected.

‘No, cara—you did the cooking,’ he said firmly. ‘Is the tea to your taste?’

It was too weak and milky by far, but Laura assured him it was delicious and drank every drop. Afterwards she spent a few minutes on repairs in the bathroom, then made for the window in the sitting room to look down at the water traffic on the sunlit water below, amused as she contrasted it with her daily commute in London.

‘You smile like the Mona Lisa,’ said Domenico behind her.

She turned to him. ‘I was looking at all these people travelling about on the water in the sunshine—a bit different from my daily trips on the Docklands Light Railway.’

‘This train is convenient for your apartment?’

She nodded. ‘I live in a part of London called Bow, so the DLR, as we locals call it, is almost door to door from my flat to the bank.’

He took her hand in his and drew her down to sit beside him. ‘Tell me about your flat, Laura.’

‘It’s very small, with only one bedroom, and very different from this. But on the plus side it’s in a building with a gym and a pool. I’ve been very grateful for both assets since the downward turn in my social life.’ She yawned suddenly. ‘Sorry. It must be the Venice air.’

‘Come, it is early yet. Put your head on that cushion and enjoy a short siesta. Then later we shall tour the Basilica.’

Laura found it all too easy to do as he said. She curled up in her corner of his sofa, so utterly at ease now in Domenico’s company that she was soon asleep.

He sat back, resisting the urge to stroke the gleaming braid trailing over Laura’s shoulder. He looked at her flushed, sleeping face, the desire he could not ignore mixed with a protective feeling new to him in his dealings with women. When Lorenzo Forli had requested—no, ordered him to take care of Fenella’s friend he had never imagined in his wildest dreams that she would appeal to him so strongly.

He sat very still as she stirred, but she merely turned her face deeper into the cushion, and he let out a deep breath and relaxed. In the years since Alessa’s desertion, which had cut deeper and hurt for much longer than he had allowed anyone to know, his dealings with women had been lighthearted, casual affairs conducted discreetly, with no involvement of the heart, and in some cases, he thought wryly, of the brain, either. But Laura was different. He desired her as a lover, as was only natural, but he also liked and respected her as a person. Unlike this idiot Edward of hers, he would not reject friendship if she offered it. But it took self-control he had not known he possessed to keep from touching her.

Laura woke slowly, and found a pair of intent blue eyes watching her. ‘Hello,’ she said sleepily. ‘Did I snore?’

Domenico shook his head, smiling. Ignoring an urge to devour her flushed face with kisses, he got up, holding out his hand. ‘Come, I shall take you back to the hotel.’

Laura would have preferred to stay right where she was for the foreseeable future, but with a sigh she took the hand and let him pull her to her feet. ‘I need a shower and a change of clothes.’

‘This is a good idea,’ he said with approval. ‘Then you will have no need to return to your hotel after the Basilica. We shall go to Florian’s instead, and while you drink tea there you shall tell me where you would like to dine this evening.’

‘Perfect.’ She hesitated. ‘But I’m going back to the hotel on my own, right now, Domenico. I’ll meet you in an hour outside the central doorway of the Basilica.’

He dropped her hand. ‘Very well, if that is what you wish.’

‘I just need to do a little shopping on my own—personal things,’ she explained, her colour rising.

‘Ah. I see. Of course.’ He opened the door for her and accompanied her down to the foyer, where he kissed her cheeks and tapped her watch. ‘One hour. I shall be waiting.’

Laura went straight to a shop she’d seen the day before. She picked out a silk tie with discreet aquamarine dots printed on a midnight-blue background, handed over her credit card and hurried with her gift-wrapped purchase through the now-familiar alleys to the Locanda Verona.

She rushed through a shower with her head wrapped in a towel, did her face, and took a look through her limited wardrobe for something suitable for both a visit to the Basilica and to a restaurant somewhere afterwards. The only dress still unworn was brand-new, a chain-store bargain bought for Tuscany, with drifts of tawny butterflies printed on double layers of cream chiffon. Definitely not for church, Laura decided with regret, and put on a fluted cream linen skirt and a thin, lace-edged black cardigan she was buttoning up to the low V-neck when her phone rang.

‘I am here, with your parcels at last,’ said Domenico. ‘Are you ready?’

Oh, yes, she was ready. ‘I’ll be right down.’

Laura ran down the stairs, smiling, her heart lifting at the sight of Domenico leaning against the reception desk in pale linen trousers and one of his blue shirts.

‘Here is your shopping, signorina,’ he said, and gave her the bags first and then the box containing the candlesticks. ‘Go up more slowly than you came down,’ he advised, ‘or you will endanger the candeliere.’

Laura meekly went back up the stairs at a slower rate, which was an effort when she wanted nothing more than to race up and down to get back to Domenico as fast as she could; a disturbing thought when all too soon she would be waving him a permanent goodbye.

‘I thought we were meeting outside the Basilica,’ she said, when she rejoined him.

‘I finally remembered your presents. Also,’ he added, giving her a head-to-toe survey, ‘I did not think it wise to leave you waiting in the piazza alone, and I was right. You look more beautiful each time I see you.’

Laura knew perfectly well she wasn’t beautiful, but had a feeling she might start believing it herself if she spent much more time in Domenico’s company. ‘You look rather nice, too,’ she said as they left the hotel.

‘I did my best just for you,’ he said suavely, and grinned at the look she gave him.

‘How do you manage to find shirts the exact shade of your eyes?’ she asked as they strolled along the calle.

‘There are many blue shirts sold in Venice, Laura. I was not aware of trying to match my eyes,’ he protested.

‘I don’t believe you! You know to a scintilla the effect your eyes have on a woman.’

‘Do they affect you?’ he demanded, stopping to look down at her.

‘Oh, yes—but I’m working on it,’ she said, laughing.

‘If it is any satisfaction to you, Laura, your eyes have a much greater effect on me. So does your mouth,’ he said conversationally as they resumed walking. ‘And your hair. Also I have great affection for your pretty ears and your—’

‘Stop it!’ she ordered sternly. ‘We’re visiting a place of worship, remember.’

‘And we must hurry.’ Domenico looked at his watch as they dived into the tide of tourists. ‘The Basilica will be fully lit only until four o’clock.’

Laura had read up a little about the Basilica beforehand, but when they passed through the carved central doorway to mount the steps into the cathedral itself she was unprepared for the sheer impact of gleaming golden mosaics on every inch of the huge interior: domes, walls and floor, from the vestibule right through the nave. The effect was so stunning that in some ways she was glad there were the usual crowds. They made progress slow, but lessened her feeling of personal insignificance in the overwhelming golden vastness.

‘I had no idea,’ she said to Domenico as she looked down at the floor mosaics, which undulated beneath her feet like an exotic Eastern carpet.

‘I had forgotten, too, it is years since I was here,’ he said quietly, holding her firmly by the hand as they moved on through the crowd. ‘Look up.’

Laura obeyed, gazing up into the gleaming Pentecost dome at the sight of the Apostles touched by tongues of flame. But under the enormous central dome of the Ascension she was rendered utterly silent by the glittering gold mosaic of Christ in Glory high above.

‘Come,’ said Domenico. ‘We must buy tickets to view the Pala d’Oro.’

By the time Laura had admired the tomb of St Mark and the Pala d’Oro, the bejewelled gold altarpiece behind the high altar, she had the beginnings of a headache. Domenico looked at her with concern when she took refuge behind her enormous sunglasses.

‘Come, tesoro. Enough for now, yes?’

Laura nodded silently as they made their way back through the crowds in the Basilica to emerge into the thronged, sunlit piazza. ‘It’s an amazing building, but a bit of it at a time is more than enough. It needs a few visits to take it all in.’

‘When you come back we shall see it again, but early in the morning, before the crowds arrive,’ he promised. ‘And there is the Doge’s Palace to see, also.’

At that moment the very thought of it made her tired. ‘Domenico, could we just have tea at your place instead of Florian’s?’ said Laura. ‘I have a bit of a headache. I don’t think I could face an orchestra right now.’

‘But of course.’ He looked down into her colourless face. ‘Shall we call at a farmacia for some medication?’

‘I’ve got some painkillers with me.’ She smiled at him gratefully. ‘I just need lots of water and lots of tea, and peaceful surroundings without tourists or a single gold mosaic.’

‘Then my apartment is the perfect place!’

Laura was in full agreement later as she sank into one of the sofas in the cool, high-ceilinged salotto to sip the tea Domenico had made stronger and darker than before.

‘I did not think you enjoyed my former effort,’ he said, sitting beside her. ‘But you were too polite to say so.’

‘This time it’s perfect,’ she assured him, and with a little grin, said ‘Permesso?’ and toed her sandals off so she could curl up in her corner of the sofa.

Domenico gave her a look that made her heart skip a beat. ‘For me, Laura, this is much, much better than Florian’s.’

‘For me, too,’ she said, taking refuge in her tea. ‘After the pills and all that mineral water you made me wash them down with, my headache is better already.’

‘That is because you are here with me,’ he said, with such smug certainty she laughed.

‘You’re outrageous.’

He looked wounded. ‘Not at all. I meant that here where it is quiet and cool and there are no tourists—and where you are served with such wonderful tea—you naturally feel better.’

Laura smiled warmly. ‘Of course I do. Thank you, Domenico.’

‘Prego. Now, let us decide where to dine tonight.’

‘We could go to your hotel,’ she said slyly.

‘No!’ he said, with such emphasis her eyebrows rose.

‘Why not?’

He threw out a hand. ‘This is a holiday for me, also, Laura, and I do not wish to dine in the place where I spend most of my working life. Also I would have to introduce you to many people and waste much time that could be spent alone with you. When you come back I shall take you there. But not this time.’

‘I can’t manage another trip to Venice for quite a while, you know,’ she said with a sigh.

He shot her a searching look. ‘I know cost has been mentioned before, but if it is a matter of money—’

‘Of course it is. I earn quite a good salary, but a lot of it goes on rent.’ She looked away. ‘I also help my mother out a bit—a very little bit—with my sister Abby’s college fund.’

‘Because you have no father?’ he said with sympathy, and put her cup on the table so he could hold her hand.

‘Right. My mother teaches in the local primary school, and Abby works in a café at weekends to add her bit to the fund, but I want her to have a reasonable nest egg in the bank by the time she goes to college. This holiday of mine was pure extravagance right now. I would never have made it here if you hadn’t found such a cheap place for me to stay.’ Laura turned to look at him. ‘It was you who arranged it?’

He nodded, and raised her hand to his lips. ‘And because his request led to our meeting, Laura, I shall be grateful to Signor Forli for the rest of my life.’

Chapter Four

‘THAT’S a very extravagant thing to say,’ said Laura, after a pause.

‘It is true. If it had not been for him I would have sent someone else to the airport to meet you.’ Domenico gave her a wry smile. ‘It is not usually my—my job to do such things.’

‘Is that why you were in such a strop at the airport?’

‘Strop?’

‘Temper.’

He shrugged. ‘I had problems at the hotel that day, and was forced to leave them unresolved to meet you at Marco Polo. I apologise for my bad manners.’

She grinned. ‘I took no notice.’

‘I know it. You were so entranced with Venice you took no notice of me at all,’ he said darkly, his hand tightening on hers. ‘My self-esteem suffered a crushing blow.’

‘I’m glad.’

‘You are glad?’

‘Otherwise you wouldn’t have come after me to make sure I did notice you,’ she said matter-of-factly. ‘And we wouldn’t be here right now, enjoying each other’s company.’

He smiled. ‘E vero. For once in my life I rejoice that I was ignored by a woman!’

She looked at him searchingly. ‘Domenico, is your effect on women really so important to you?’

He shrugged, the smile suddenly bitter. ‘If I say yes will you understand?’

Laura noted the pulse throbbing at the corner of his mouth and chose her words with care. ‘It dates from the day Alessa left you for your friend?’

His eyes lit up. ‘You do understand!’

‘I know how the bottom can fall out of one’s world.’

‘Did some man do this to you, Laura?’ he demanded, frowning.

‘Not in the way you mean. The only man I’ve ever adored was my father. He died suddenly of a heart attack when I was ten.’

‘Poor little one! That must have been very hard for you.’

She nodded sadly. ‘But much harder for my mother. I realise now how wonderfully she coped with it all. She had to bury her own grief to comfort Abby and me, move us into a smaller house, and go back to work to support us.’

‘She must be a very special lady. Life changed very much for her, and for you,’ he said with sympathy.

Laura shrugged. ‘Children are adaptable. I was inconsolable at first, but in time I realised that as long as I had my mother and Abby I could cope, too. The other constant in my life was Fen, of course. I’ve always been treated like one of the family by the Dysarts.’ She smiled to lighten the atmosphere. ‘I’m chief bridesmaid at the wedding.’

‘Are there many such bridesmaids?’

‘Three besides me. Fen’s teenage nieces, you probably know one of them—Francesca Forli.’

‘I do, yes, but at this moment I am interested only in you,’ said Domenico firmly. ‘Tell me what you will wear, Laura, so I can picture you in my mind.’

‘Better still, I’ll send you a photograph—if you like.’

‘I would like that very much.’ He eyed her closely. ‘And now that you look better, Laura, let us talk of where you would like to dine tonight.’

She hesitated. ‘Domenico—could we possibly stay in and eat something here?’

‘You may do anything you wish,’ he assured her.

‘Do they do takeaways in Venice? If not, a sandwich will do.’

‘I can give you something better than a tramezzino!’

‘You’re going to cook?’

‘You cannot imagine such a thing?’ he teased, and brandished his mobile phone. ‘I shall persuade one of the chefs at the hotel to send us a cold meal of some kind.’

‘Wonderful!’

‘Can you eat shellfish?’

‘Any kind you like.’

‘Then I shall ring Sandro to see what he can do.’ Domenico looked down at her as he got up. ‘You feel better now, cara?’

‘Much better. But, Domenico, if you prefer to go out—’

‘I do not,’ he said with emphasis. ‘We shall sit on the little balcony outside the dining room while we wait for our dinner, and watch the boats on the Canalazzo.’

‘Canalazzo?’ Laura queried.

‘You foreigners call it the Grand Canal!’ he said, laughing.

The minute the door closed behind him Laura went to the window to gaze at the baroque splendour of the Salute church across the lagoon. She heaved a sigh. She had been here only a short time, yet she would miss Venice when she was back in London. She would miss Domenico a whole lot more—but she wasn’t going to think about that.

It was some time before he rejoined her. ‘You should be resting,’ he accused.

‘My headache has vanished completely,’ she assured him, and smiled. ‘You know I can’t resist this view.’

He smiled indulgently. ‘Then let us go outside to see more of it.’

Domenico’s balcony was narrow, with only room for a table and four chairs, but the view from it was spectacular. Laura leaned against the rail, watching the assorted water traffic, and wished she could paint as she watched a gondola trail a glittering wake on the water below.

‘The passengers are tourists, of course,’ said Domenico, leaning beside her. ‘The only time Venetians travel by gondola is on their wedding day.’

‘So you were going to make an exception for me the other night, then!’

He slanted a smile at her. ‘I was determined to impress you.’

‘You would have succeeded!’ She leaned farther to watch the gondola out of sight. ‘I’m disappointed, Domenico. I hoped he would serenade his passengers.’

He laughed. ‘This does not happen. The only melodies uttered by gondoliere are the warning calls heard on our canals for centuries.’

‘Another illusion shattered!’

‘Let me console you with wine.’

‘I’d better stick to water just yet, please.’

Left alone again, Laura gazed in concentration at the view from the balcony, so she would remember every detail of it when life resumed normal service back in London. She turned with a smile as Domenico came back with a loaded tray.

‘Allora, we have wine, San Pellegrino, fresh fruit juice and ice,’ he announced. ‘I thought you might like a taste of peach and orange in your mineral water, Laura.’

‘I would indeed,’ she agreed. ‘You’re very good to me, Domenico.’

He shot a narrowed, gleaming look at her. ‘When you smile at me like so it is not easy to be very good.’

‘Then I won’t.’

‘Which would be a pity.’

Their eyes held for a moment, then Domenico turned away to toss ice in a glass. He added a mixture of fruit juice and mineral water, topped it off with lemon slices and handed the drink to her with a bow. ‘Perhaps the signorina will give me her verdict.’

Laura eyed him in admiration. ‘You speak such wonderful English, Domenico.’

‘Grazie. I learned in school, of course, and then later I—I did a more intensive language course and became more fluent. It is necessary in my line of work.’ He gestured towards her glass. ‘Taste, cara.’

Laura took a sip and smiled at him. ‘Delicious.’

He poured a glass of wine and took the chair beside her. ‘Salute.’

She raised her glass to him. ‘To you, Domenico, for making my holiday so special.’

‘It is not so hard a thing to do,’ he assured her, and leaned back in his chair, utterly relaxed.

Laura’s eyes were thoughtful as she studied the clear-cut profile etched against the fiery light.

‘That is a strange look, Laura,’ he said, intercepting it.

She shrugged, smiling. ‘It suddenly occurred to me that this time last week we didn’t know each other existed.’

‘It is hard to believe,’ he agreed soberly. ‘There is so much I wish to learn about you, cara. Tell me more about your family; describe them to me.’

‘My mother is small and fair like me, and very attractive—’

‘Also like you!’

‘Thank you, kind sir. Abby is tall, with dark hair like my father. She’s the brains of the family, but no slouch in the looks department, either. She’s off to Trinity, Cambridge, in the autumn.’

‘That is very impressive.’ Domenico shot a look at her. ‘It will also be expensive, which is why you help her and why you cannot return soon.’ He turned to her, his eyes brilliant with sudden inspiration. ‘But I have a solution for this.’

Laura eyed him warily. ‘What?’

‘You will refuse to let me pay your air fare, I know, but instead of a hotel you could stay here in my apartment as my guest. I will not impose my company on you. You are most welcome to stay here alone, or with your mother and sister, perhaps, any time you wish.’

She smiled at him, deeply touched. ‘Domenico, that’s such a lovely thought, but I couldn’t possibly take advantage of your kindness like that.’

The light vanished from his eyes. ‘Why not?’ he demanded with sudden hauteur. ‘Do not confuse me with these ragazzi at your bank. I would ask nothing in return.’

‘I know that. Don’t go all arrogant and Venetian on me!’ She heaved a sigh. ‘It’s a lovely idea, but just not possible for me right now.’

‘As you wish,’ he said coolly, and got up at the sound of the doorbell. ‘Our dinner.’

Laura bit her lip as she watched him go. She drained her glass and went into the dining room, and with a pang saw that Domenico had made the table festive with candles and crystal and a beautiful linen cloth and napkins. She waited until the outer door closed, then went into the hall to confront him.

‘Domenico, I didn’t mean to offend you. I would like nothing better than to take you up on your offer, but I just can’t make it back to Venice for a while. Please try to understand.’

‘Mi dispiace,’ he said with instant remorse. ‘Of course I understand. Let us talk no more of things which distress you, cara.’ He took Laura’s hand and led her back to the balcony to watch the sun sinking into the lagoon in a blaze of crimson fire.

‘It’s so lovely here.’ She sighed. ‘I shall think of this a lot when it’s raining back in London.’

‘It rains here too. This had great advantages for me last night,’ he reminded her, eyes gleaming.

‘For me, too,’ said Laura, seeing no point in beating about the bush.

‘But you were angry with me!’

‘Only because you didn’t want to kiss me.’

‘Laura,’ he said impatiently, ‘I wanted to kiss you far too much. You have forgotten what happened when I did?’

‘No.’ She took in a deep, unsteady breath. ‘No, I haven’t.’

‘Va bene. Neither have I,’ he said with feeling. ‘So let us turn our attention to dinner.’

‘What are we having?’ she asked, wrenching her mind away from the interlude in the rain.

‘A special dinner for a special guest. I hope you will enjoy it.’

‘I’m sure I will. I’ve enjoyed everything I’ve eaten here, right down to the ham panino in a bar near the Rialto.’

‘I trust that you ate this standing up! Otherwise the cost is doubled.’

‘I knew that.’ She chuckled. ‘I can’t tell you what a relief it was to sit down when we had breakfast together.’

He laughed. ‘I enjoyed this also in your company. Normally I breakfast alone.’

‘In London I don’t have any at all.’

‘That is not good for one who works hard, cara,’ he said, frowning.

‘I know, but I get up early and just can’t face anything at that hour.’ She turned to smile up at him. ‘But I can face dinner tonight any time you like.’

‘Then we shall eat at once.’

Revelling in the domesticity in the situation, Laura followed behind with bread and salad while Domenico transferred an enormous platter of seafood from his refrigerator to the dining room table.