Lucy Gordon - Italian Attraction

Another glass of wine appeared in front of her like magic. Obviously Blaine had seen her empty glass when he had ordered the food. Not wishing his mother’s first impression of her to be one where she was carried into the house like a sack of coal, Maisie left it exactly where it was, saying, ‘What is it we’re eating?’

‘We are making the most of the fresh fish by having two courses where seafood features. Not exactly the done thing, I know, but …’ He gave another of his Latin shrugs and she wondered if he knew quite what it did to her. ‘We begin with carpaccio di tonno, which is essentially cooked peeled crayfish and very thin slices of fresh raw tuna on a bed of lemon iced salad sprigs. Following this I have chosen linguine all’aragosta because the lobster here is second to none. In most restaurants you would be lucky to get a few mouthfuls of lobster with the pasta but here even I am satisfied.’

Maisie nodded as though she knew exactly what he was talking about.

‘Ah, the appetisers.’ As the waiter reappeared with several small plates holding delectable-looking morsels, Blaine thanked him, adding to Maisie, ‘The Italian word for appetiser is antipasto, sì? This is your first lesson, mia piccola.’

He was becoming more Italian by the moment. And more irresistible. Something told her not to ask what the last two words meant. Instead she tucked into the appetisers and discovered they were absolutely delicious. As was the rest of the meal when it came.

Maisie had always liked her food and made no apology for it, although she would have loved to wave a magic wand, of course, and eat what she wanted without it showing on her waistline. Somehow she had never quite managed the knack of surviving on lettuce leaves and brown rice and all the other things which were devoid of cream and butter and everything that made life worth living, though. Halfway through the meal she decided to put the diet on hold until she was back in England. Time enough then for being miserable. She was well overdue a bit of pleasure with all she’d gone through in the last few weeks.

She did refuse dessert though. Not through any misguided and belated feeling of guilt but simply because she couldn’t eat another thing after the most wonderful lobster since the beginning of time.

‘You eat like a true Italian.’

They were sitting having coffee and Maisie was wondering how she was going to waddle out to the car when Blaine spoke. She looked at him warily. ‘Meaning?’

‘You enjoy your food. I cannot bear to sit and watch a woman move the food about her plate as though it is going to poison her.’

But he had probably been sufficiently attracted by their slim nubile bodies to take them out in the first place. Maisie acknowledged the waistband of her skirt was threatening to split. She had been thrilled to bits to find she could actually fit into a size twelve for the first time in years when she had gone on her shopping spree, even though it had been a bit of a near thing between that and the size fourteen. She wrinkled her small nose. ‘I’m not fashionably thin,’ she said, stating the obvious. ‘Jeff, my ex, went off with a size eight blonde who’s recently had breast enhancements.’ And then she wondered why on earth she had told him that.

He folded his arms over his chest, studying her with an air of quiet interest. ‘That must have been hard for you.’

In a nutshell, yes. She tried to inject a note of nonchalance into her voice. ‘It obviously wasn’t meant to be.’

‘No, it wasn’t.’

Not into comforting words and polite platitudes, then. Although he had only agreed with her, she found herself bristling. ‘Actually, we were very well matched.’

He raised cryptic eyebrows.

‘We both love animals and long walks and good food,’ she said determinedly, ‘and going to the theatre and lazy Sundays …’ What else? She knew there was more.

‘So does most of the population,’ said Blaine, his mouth curving.

‘We would have been very happy together.’

‘I doubt that.’

‘Oh, really?’ Maisie glared at him. ‘Why is that?’

‘Because if he was fool enough to let you go in the first place he would not have had sufficient fire to match you flame for flame,’ Blaine said with lazy coolness. ‘Fire and water never mix and this is the cause of many divorces. Passion must be met by equal passion or one partner will be left feeling unfulfilled and the other believing they haven’t measured up. This Jeff sounds like a water person to me.’

‘You don’t know him,’ she snapped while secretly thrilled that he thought she was a fire person. She wasn’t at all sure she was but she was glad he thought so.

‘I don’t have to. If he had fulfilled all he should have done you wouldn’t be like you are now at his going. You would be devastated, distraught—’

‘I was. I am !’ She was furious. ‘Just because I don’t wear my heart on my sleeve, it doesn’t mean I’m not upset, does it.’

‘He did not touch the core of you, Maisie. Face it. He didn’t have what it takes. If you had married him you would both have been miserable in time. Maybe this size eight, breast-enhanced female is what he needs.’

‘So he did the right thing in starting an affair behind my back when we were due to be married in a few weeks’ time? Is that what you’re saying?’ She couldn’t remember when she had been more mad.

‘I didn’t say that.’

His cool aplomb made her wish she had some wine in her glass so she could have flung it at him. As it was, she ground out, ‘That’s exactly what you said.’

‘No, I did not.’ He leant forward, his eyes holding hers as he said very softly but with deadly intent, ‘Listen to me and stop behaving like a child unless you want me to treat you like one and put you over my knee. I said you were well rid of the guy and you are, and perhaps this other woman will suit him. Perhaps she’s as shallow as he is; I really don’t know. What I do know is that I am glad you found out what he was really like before you went through a marriage and all that entails. I have been there and when things go wrong it can be ugly. I am glad you are not with this man but I am sorry for the hurt you have suffered. OK? But if he had fully had your heart it would have been worse, I stand by that.’

She stared at him, the anger dying. The man in front of her now was not the smooth controlled Blaine she had seen thus far; this man was quite a different individual. The chiselled cheekbones were taut, the sensual mouth grim and the eyes weren’t smiling. Whoever it was he had been speaking about, whoever the woman was that he had loved and lost, she had meant a great deal to him. Maisie didn’t know what to say. ‘I’m sorry.’ She kept her gaze on his face and her eyes were dark and steady. ‘I didn’t mean to revive bad memories for you.’

His eyes held hers for a moment more and then, as she watched, it was as though he pulled a mask over his face. He settled back in his seat. ‘You didn’t.’ He smiled. ‘We were talking about you, remember?’

She wasn’t so sure about that but she let it pass, finishing her coffee as he strolled over to the inn-keeper and chatted for a moment or two as he paid the bill. He came back to the table, pulling out her chair for her with the courtesy she realised was an integral part of him. He was the sort of man who would open doors for the woman he was with, stand back and let her precede him into a room, throw his cloak down over a puddle so she didn’t get her feet wet. The last was going a bit far but Maisie made no apology for it because it fitted somehow. She wasn’t so sure about the being treated as a child and put over his knee, but even that might have certain advantages. She blushed to herself and was glad of the cooler evening air as they stepped out of the inn.