sometimes trembled with emotion as he created the scenes between the two lovers. His protagonist, Serena, had turned out to be an Italian version of Neve, dark-haired but with the same fair skin and blue-green eyes that were not often seen in the South.
Davide had made Serena everything he had fantasized about Neve before she had crushed his illusions...and Vittorio was the name he had called the man who had captured her heart.
Davide gave a harsh laugh. What a fool he had been eight years ago. A romantic fool.
After first catching sight of Neve on that balcony, he had used every excuse possible to walk by. He had had asked his friend Agostino, whose mother had been working as a housekeeper at the Villa Morgana, to keep him informed of any excursions Neve’s family was planning, and Davide would innocently show up around that time. Just to catch sight of Neve.
When he had had the good fortune of first spotting her on the balcony, he had dared to hold his gaze for longer than a casual glance. And to his delight, after gazing away shyly, she had returned it. But then, with each subsequent walk-by, she had attempted a quirky smile, her face flushing like a ripe peach.
After a couple of days Davide had made the bold move of crossing the road to walk on the same side of the villa on his way home from working on the farm. And then later, once he had showered and changed, he had returned. The local bakery was just down the street from the villa, and this had become his excuse to walk by every day.
Zio Francesco had commented about Davide’s sudden sweet tooth, for Davide was bringing home a bag of brioche filled with custard one day, or a few marzipan fruit cookies or hazelnut biscotti the next day. Davide couldn’t very well reveal the real reason for his purchases to his uncle; he had shared his feelings only with Agostino, who had revealed the girl’s name to him.
When Agostino had told him one evening that Neve’s mother was planning an outing to the sea, Davide’s stomach had churned with anticipation. He would go, too! He had convinced Agostino to join him, for it would have looked odd for him to show up alone on the beach used by the Valdoro locals. They had set out on Agostino’s Vespa and had spent the morning alternately sunning and swimming, with Davide trying to keep his observations of Neve as unnoticeable as possible.
He and Agostino had laid out their beach towels a short distance from Neve and her mother, who had rented an umbrella and had brought a picnic basket. Davide’s heart had started to pound when Neve, still unaware of his presence, had removed her beach wrap and started to apply sunscreen to her slender arms and legs. She was wearing a blue two-piece swimsuit with pink polka dots. He had smiled; she had had a thing for polka dots, obviously, and they had suited her something crazy.
He had felt the sun and the inner heat suddenly get to him, and slapping Agostino on the arm, he had challenged him to a race out to the third marker in the water, indicating one hundred meters.
“Race you there and back,” he had urged. “I’m burning up.”
They had splashed their way back to shore, with Davide winning by three meters. Laughing, they had dried off and collapsed on their beach towels. That was when Davide had looked across and realized Neve was watching him. Her mother had been busy laying out the picnic food. Had Neve seen the whole race? Self-consciously, he had given her a nod and after checking to make sure her mother was still occupied, he had waved.
She had waved back and seemed self-conscious herself, looking around as if to see if anyone had noticed her wave to Davide. Tossing her hair back, she had tiptoed quickly on the hot beach sand and had ventured a little way into the water before immersing herself completely in a graceful dive.
It had all happened in slow motion. The sights and sounds around Davide had blurred, and all he had been conscious of was Neve, her lithe body ascending from her dive with the sun reflected in every glistening drop on her skin. And when she had shaken her head and sent a rainbow spray around her, his breath had caught in his throat, and he had known in the deepest reaches of his soul that he had fallen in love with this bewitching sea nymph. An impossible love that could never be returned.
The realization had overwhelmed him. How was he going to deal with this? Agostino had told him earlier that Neve’s visit to Valdoro would end in a couple of days, and then she and her mother would be returning to Canada. He had felt a series of unbearable twinges in his heart from wanting Neve but knowing his desire could not be reciprocated. Fate wouldn’t allow it. Davide had immediately felt deflated, already anticipating the impending loss... Neve would be gone tomorrow, and he would be left with this torturous flame in his chest.
He had to meet her.
The thought had made his breath falter and his heart thump erratically. If he couldn’t have anything else with Neve, at the very least he had wanted a few moments with her. A moment, even. To tell her how he felt, and to hear her response. His gut had told him that she had felt something, too... He had seen it in her eyes.
It had been too much to hope that Neve had fallen in love with him, as well, but Davide had been prepared to accept that. Or at least, he thought he had been. Some primeval instinct had been telling him that he just had to let her know, even if it was the last time he saw her lovely face.
He had stolen a last glance in Neve’s direction. She had had her back to him as she and her mother enjoyed their picnic lunch. Unable to bear staying at the beach any longer, he had given Agostino a nudge and they had shaken off their beach towels and headed back to Valdoro. While cooling off with a gelato at a bar near the town square, Davide had devised a plan to meet with Neve. He would write Neve a note, and Agostino would make an excuse to show up at the villa with the pretense of talking to his mother and figure out a way to deliver it personally to Neve.
With any luck, Neve would agree to meet him at the bakery down the street, where they could sit down and he could treat her to a cappuccino and a pastry while divulging his feelings to her. It would be a perfectly respectable meeting place that would look like a casual encounter to anyone who might be frequenting the shop.
* * *
Staring across to the twinkling indigo sky, Davide felt a sharp twinge as he recalled how stupidly love-struck he had been, waxing poetic in a note that now seemed ridiculous with his naive and laughable choice of words.
Signorina Neve,
Only our eyes have met, and forgive me for being bold, but you have pierced my heart with your beauty. I feel that it is in our destiny to meet. With all my respect, I wish to see you before you depart for Canada. I only ask for a few moments of your time so I can express what is in my soul. My intentions are honorable...
If you can grant me this gift, I will be forever indebted. I will be at Michelina’s Bakery after it reopens later this afternoon.
D.
Davide felt a tingle along his nerve endings as he thought about his imminent reunion with the girl who had so thoroughly put him in his “place” with her harsh reply. How would he react? How would she? His jaw clenched. Maybe he shouldn’t have hired Neve Wilder so quickly. Maybe she had every right to know who her boss was before agreeing to the job.
But she wouldn’t have agreed to the job if she had known it was you...
Davide felt a jolt. His inner voice was right. But somewhere deep inside the pain that was still trapped in his heart, was the pulsing desire to see Neve again. And keeping his identity from her—at least until she arrived—was the only way he could make that happen.
“MY GOODNESS, NEVE, you could have told me about this job opportunity sooner.” Lois Wilder’s voice was half-scolding, half-offended. “Hearing this a day before your flight hardly gives me a chance to process all this.” She waved her hands helplessly, indicating Neve’s open suitcase.
Or interfere in some way, Neve couldn’t help thinking. “There’s nothing to