Annie West - A Night In His Arms

Then he’d read the letter and realised she’d told the truth. The magazine had taken a chance on finding her here.

He’d been boorish and in the wrong. The knowledge didn’t sit well.

‘Chiara didn’t come in for lunch.’ Rocco interrupted his troubled musings.

‘That’s not like her.’ Domenico frowned, anxiety stirring.

‘No. She hasn’t been seen in any of her usual haunts for hours. I’m just about to search for her.’

‘Where’s Lucy?’ Domenico shoved his chair back.

‘She’s already searching.’

* * *

Most of the staff was scouring the shoreline, though no one had voiced their deepest fears, that Chiara had got out of her depth in the water. Domenico strode along the path at the wilderness end of the island, knowing someone had to check the less obvious places. That was how he ran into Lucy. Literally. She catapulted around a curve in the track and into his arms.

Domenico grasped her close. The summer sun lit her hair to gold and he inhaled her sweet fragrance. Yesterday he’d imprinted her body on his memory and now he didn’t want to let her go. Crazy at it seemed, it felt as if she belonged there against him.

‘Please,’ she gasped, her hand splaying against his chest. It trembled. ‘Please, help me.’

‘Lucy?’ He tilted her head up. ‘What is it?’

She was breathless, barely able to talk. Her cheeks were flushed and there was dirt smeared across her cheek as if she’d fallen. Domenico tensed.

‘Is it Chiara?’

She nodded. ‘Up ahead.’ She grabbed his shirt as he made to go. ‘No! Wait.’ She gulped in air and he forced himself to wait till she could speak.

‘You’ll be faster than me. We need rope and a torch. A medical kit too.’

‘The well?’ His heart plunged into a pool of icy fear.

‘No. A sinkhole. I found her hair ribbon on the edge of it and some marbles.’

Domenico’s breath stopped. If she’d been playing too close to the edge and then leaned in...

‘I’ll go and check it out.’

Lucy shook her head, her hands clutching like talons. ‘No! I’ve done that. There’s no sound from below. We need a rope to reach her. Every minute counts. Please, trust me on this.’ He read her desperation.

He thought of the way she’d cared for Chiara as they played together, and her careful nurturing of Taddeo all those years ago.

He couldn’t waste precious time. He had to trust her judgement. A second later he was gone, pounding down the dusty path to the villa.

When he returned, laden with supplies, Lucy had disappeared. He found her half a kilometre on, at the edge of the narrow hole. She was leaning down, talking. As he sprinted to her he realised she was telling a story about a brave princess called Chiara who was rescued in her hour of need.

‘She’s spoken to you?’ He shrugged off the rope looped across his shoulder and put down the medical kit.

Lucy’s face was solemn. ‘No. But I thought if she comes to and hears a familiar voice she won’t be so scared.’ Her mouth was white-rimmed and she blinked hard. Domenico squeezed her shoulder.

‘Thank you, Lucy. That’s a great idea.’ He wasn’t sure he’d have thought of it.

‘Where are the others?’ She looked beyond him.

‘Still at the shore. They’ll be here soon. Chiara’s grandmother will have got the message to them by now.’ He looked around. ‘I’ll have to tie this to that old olive tree. You keep a look out while I’m down there.’

‘No. I’ll go.’

Domenico dropped to his knees and shone the torch down the hole but he couldn’t see anything. His heart sank but he quickly uncoiled the rope.

‘I said I’ll go down.’ As if he’d let her risk her neck down there. ‘My property. My risk.’

‘Have you seen the size of that hole? Your shoulders are too wide. You’ll never fit.’

Domenico turned to scrutinise the sinkhole.

Damn! She was right. In his youth he’d done some caving but the squeezes had become difficult as he’d grown. This hole was so narrow he wasn’t sure a grown woman could get down.

Nevertheless he opened his mouth to protest.

Lucy’s fingers pressed his lips. He tasted dust and salt and the familiar sweet flavour of her skin. His nostrils filled with her scent. Despite the crisis his body tightened.

‘Don’t argue, Domenico. If I’d come out to play with her this morning this wouldn’t have happened.’

‘It’s not your fault.’ Already he was looping the rope around her, securing it firmly. ‘You didn’t do anything wrong.’

Deep blue eyes met his and a flash of something passed between them. Something that pounded through his chest and into his soul.

‘Thank you, Domenico. But that’s how it feels. Now, how do I lower myself?’

‘Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it all.’

* * *

The next hour was pure nightmare for Lucy. She’d never been fond of small, dark places and being confined in a claustrophobically narrow hole evoked panicked memories of her first nights behind bars, when life had been an unreal horror.

She scraped off skin getting through the entrance but to her relief, the hole widened as she progressed.

Even better, she found Chiara conscious, though barely. Lucy’s heart sped as she heard her whimper.

‘It’s all right, sweetie. You’re safe.’

Nevertheless it took an age. First to undo the rope so Domenico could send down the medical kit. Then to assess Chiara’s injuries—grazes, a nasty bump and a broken wrist. Then to bind her wrist and reassure her while she secured the thick rope around her.

Lucy wished she could go up and hold her close but there wasn’t room for two. Finally, an age later, she tugged the rope so Domenico could lift Chiara free. Lucy bit her lip, hoping her assessment of minor injuries was right. They couldn’t leave her here much longer; already she was shivering from shock and cold. Goodness knew how long it would take to get a medic from the mainland.

The shadows had lengthened and the sky clouded over by the time Lucy entrusted herself again to Domenico’s strong arms. She was breathless with relief as he hauled her up to sit on the ground. A crowd of people was there, huddled around Chiara.

Lucy gulped lungfuls of sweet air, hardly daring believe she was on the surface again.

‘How is she?’ Her voice sounded rusty.

‘She’ll be fine, but she’s going to the mainland for a check up.’ The deep voice came from close by. Powerful arms pulled her higher then wrapped her close. A sense of belonging filled her, and sheer relief as she sank into Domenico’s hold.

Weakness invaded her bones and Lucy let her head drop against his chest. Just while she collected herself. Her heart pounded out of sync as she breathed deep, absorbing the peace she found in his embrace.

How could it be? He’d berated and duped her. He’d raised her up till she felt like a goddess in his arms, then reduced her almost to tears with cruel taunts.

Her body betrayed her. It never wanted to move again.

Dimly she became aware of noise and lifted her head to applause and cheers. They were all looking at her, smiling and clapping.

‘Thank you, Lucy.’ Rocco came forward and, turning her in Domenico’s arms, kissed her on both cheeks. ‘You saved our special girl.’

His mother came next, the friendly woman who’d been so kind to her, then a string of others, some she knew and some she didn’t. One by one they embraced her and kissed her cheeks. And all the while Domenico supported her as if he knew her shaky legs couldn’t keep her upright unaided.

Warmth stirred. A warmth Lucy hadn’t known in what seemed a lifetime of cold, miserable isolation. It radiated out till her whole body tingled with it. Something deep inside splintered and fell away, like ice from a glacier. Its loss made her feel raw and vulnerable and yet closer to these welcoming people than she’d felt to anyone in years.