Lucy Gordon - Italian Attraction

‘He died when I was nine years old. An accident.’

‘And your mother?’

‘We don’t get on; we never have. I’m too much like my father, I think.’

‘Then your father must have been a warm and generous man.’

She wished he wouldn’t say things like that. It probably meant nothing to him but it made her feel … odd. She shrugged. ‘He left us. That was hard to take. And when he went my mother got rid of our dog and two cats because my father had loved them. I loved them too but that didn’t seem to matter. I think from that time on I never felt the same about her again.’

She hadn’t meant to say all that. Maisie reached for her coffee but, as she did so, Blaine’s hand closed over hers. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said quietly. ‘You have had a tough deal.’

Maisie’s throat tightened. He had said that as though he meant it. She knew she shouldn’t have agreed to come and sit in this warm perfumed velvety darkness and talk about things that were best left buried. She probably shouldn’t have agreed to come to Italy, if it came to that. Perhaps she was losing her mind? And he still hadn’t mentioned Francesca; all he’d done was to rave about his childhood. Not exactly fair, however you looked at it. Still, she couldn’t force him to come clean.

She slid her hand from under his and this time managed to reach her cup and saucer. Taking a long gulp at the fragrant liquid, she found it was scalding hot and winced as she swallowed. Great, now she was minus the roof of her mouth as well as her mind.

The dogs had been lying snoozing on the veranda when they had walked out of the house; now she felt Humphrey edge forward and position himself on her foot. Glad of the diversion, she bent forward and stroked the large silky ears. ‘Missing your mum?’ she said softly. ‘She’ll be back soon.’

‘I had better be going.’ Blaine finished his coffee and rose to his feet and Maisie stood up too. She wondered if he would try and kiss her again or suggest they go out somewhere over the next few days.

He didn’t. ‘Goodnight, Maisie,’ he said quietly. ‘Any problems of any kind, phone me. Liliana has my home and work numbers.’

She nodded briskly. ‘OK, but I’m sure everything will be just fine.’

Did he expect her to walk through the house with him and wave him off? Or would that seem presumptuous?

Liliana settled this in the next moment as she reappeared, saying, ‘You are not leaving already, Blaine? I came to see if you would like a liqueur with your coffee?’

‘I have an early start tomorrow morning.’ He took Liliana’s arm as he spoke and the two of them disappeared into the house, leaving Maisie standing on the veranda. She wasn’t sure if she was supposed to follow them, but she didn’t. She sat down instead, pouring herself another coffee and drinking it slowly with Humphrey back on her foot as she heard them talking in Italian in the hall. After a while she heard a car start at the front of the house and a few moments later Liliana joined her.

‘Blaine has suggested he take me to see Guiseppe in a day or two if you feel confident to look after everything here for a few hours?’ Liliana said happily.

‘Of course, that’ll be fine.’

‘He is a good boy.’ Liliana didn’t seem to expect a comment from her as she bustled about clearing the tray and Maisie was glad of this because she couldn’t think of one.

Later, up in her room, Maisie sat for a long time by the open window, her brow wrinkled and her thoughts going back and forth until she gave herself a headache. Why had he kissed her? And, more to the point, after he had why hadn’t he come back for more? Even more to the point than that though, why had she longed for a repeat performance with every cell of her body?

Dangerous, dangerous man. She gave a mental nod to the declaration. And danger was the last thing she needed in her life after all the anguish of the last weeks. She was glad he hadn’t tried to kiss her again or suggest a date or anything like that. She ignored the cold little lump in the pit of her stomach as she stood up and began undressing. And she would make sure she stayed out of his way as much as possible while she was in Italy. No more cosy chats over dinner, no more silly fancies and muddled thoughts.

She didn’t bother to wash, just brushing her teeth and pulling on her nightie before she climbed into bed. Once under the cool cotton sheet she shut her eyes determinedly. She was not going to lie awake half the night doing endless post-mortems about the evening in her mind. She had to be up at the crack of dawn to see to the horses and the rest of the animals. Blaine Morosini was not part of her life. He never could or would be. And she didn’t want him to be.

She turned over, burying her face in the soft plump pillow, but, much to her irritation, it was still a long time before she eventually fell asleep.

THE next week or so was fairly uneventful. Blaine had fallen into the habit of dropping by each night to give Liliana a report on Guiseppe, but apart from that first evening he wouldn’t be pressed to stay for dinner. He stayed for a coffee with the two women but the conversation was always light and encouraging on his part; he often made Liliana smile by relating some funny incident that had occurred either at the hospital or during his day at work.

There were no more long looks and certainly no more kisses; in fact, Maisie thought that if she hadn’t been absolutely certain of the events that night when they had shared dinner together, she would have begun to think that she had imagined the whole thing. But she hadn’t. And for that reason she let Blaine and Liliana do most of the talking while she sat quietly listening to them. Actually, it was surprising what she learnt about Blaine this way, she told herself as she sat on the veranda one night when she had been in Italy nine days, the dogs spread out about her feet.

She now knew he was a man who only needed three or four hours’ sleep a night. She realised this when it had transpired he left his house every morning at five o’clock to fit in a full day’s work before, more often than not, calling in at the hospital to see his father before he came back to Sorrento. She also knew he hadn’t got a girlfriend and hadn’t dated for some time. This had been revealed during one conversation when Liliana had scolded him for being a workaholic.

‘I tell him he should have a little fun,’ the housekeeper had said in an aside to Maisie. ‘But it is all work, work, work. This is not good for a man, I think.’

Blaine had changed the conversation very firmly at this point and Maisie had wondered if it was because he had been worried Liliana might bring up the past and the reason he made work his life these days. Was it to do with Francesca? She rather thought it might be. But of course it was none of her business—not that that didn’t stop her thinking about it most of the time.

It didn’t help that Liliana had buttoned up about Blaine’s past love life either. Maisie was almost certain he’d warned the housekeeper to say nothing to her. She could be being paranoid here, but she didn’t think so. And she hadn’t imagined the reserve that was in his manner towards her now either. Obviously that kiss had been a complete nonentity as far as he was concerned. Which was fine, just fine, because she wasn’t on for a repeat either. It just rankled that she was clearly such a bad kisser that she’d put him off so completely, that was all. She didn’t have bad breath or buck teeth or weepy sores, so what was the problem?

Blaine had taken Liliana to see Guiseppe on two occasions now and each time Maisie had made sure she was in bed when he’d returned the housekeeper to the villa late at night. She knew he always came in and had a nightcap with Liliana but she wasn’t about to hang around like little orphan Annie. Tonight was the third time and as Maisie finished her coffee she rose to her feet, the dogs all jumping up too. They knew the routine now. After-dinner snooze on the veranda and then this new human always walked down to the paddock before she went to bed.