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