Lucy Gordon

A Venetian Affair


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to discover she had enough to cover it.

      ‘Do you feel better now?’ he demanded.

      ‘Much better,’ she assured him, and smiled. ‘I think I would like a glass of wine after all.’

      ‘Do you insist on paying when you dine with men in London?’ he asked, handing a glass to her.

      ‘That’s different,’ she said firmly. ‘You’ve not only paid for meals, you’ve taken time off from your job to help me.’

      ‘Let us talk no more of money.’ He sat down beside her. ‘Instead, I will make a confession which will amuse you very much.’

      ‘Confession? That sounds serious.’

      ‘It is comical, not serious,’ he assured her. ‘I will start from the beginning. Last night I was not pleased to find you gone when I went to your hotel.’

      ‘I was afraid of that,’ she admitted. ‘But, Domenico, you didn’t put a phone number on your note, and I couldn’t sit for hours twiddling my thumbs in my room when Venice was out there, luring to me to come out and play, now could I?’

      ‘No, of course not.’ He smiled and took her hand. ‘But when Signora Rossi gave me your message—’

      ‘You were pretty ticked off,’ she teased.

      ‘E vero, if that means annoyed,’ he agreed. ‘I had planned the evening so carefully, you understand, and it was not part of the plan to find you gone when I came for you. But when I saw you sitting there at Florian’s I was angry no longer. You looked so beautiful—and I was not the only man who thought so,’ he added darkly.

      She brushed that aside. ‘So tell me about this plan.’

      ‘To explain I must go back to our first meeting, when you did not notice me at all!’

      She shook her head. ‘I did, you know—mainly because you were in such a hurry to get rid of me. But also because you looked respectable and had been sent by Lorenzo Forli—’

      ‘Respectable? Dio!’ He shook his head in mock despair. ‘Women usually have more flattering things to say of me than that, Laura.’

      ‘I bet they do!’

      ‘I met a friend in the San Marco sestiere later that day,’ he went on, ‘and on impulse afterwards I decided to make sure all was well with you. Signora Rossi told me you had gone to Florian’s, but when I looked for you there I did not recognise you at first.’

      ‘I clean up well,’ she agreed, and Domenico gave a delighted laugh.

      ‘Very well indeed.’ He smiled crookedly. ‘Until that moment my plan was merely to ask if the hotel was satisfactory—’

      ‘And bowl me over with your charm!’ she accused.

      ‘Esattamente.’ He nodded, unrepentant. ‘But after meeting with you it was I who was bowled over, Laura. I enjoyed our time together very much—until you refused my escort back to the hotel.’

      ‘That offended you?’

      ‘I was hurt!’ he said, hand on heart. ‘I wanted very much to see you again. But to avoid another rejection I sent a note.’

      ‘Very clever,’ said Laura, grinning.

      ‘I think so,’ he said smugly. ‘Allora, the next part of my plan was to impress you with dinner at Harry’s Bar.’

      ‘Excellent move.’

      ‘But during the meal I learned of your dislike of romantic gestures,’ he said with a heavy sigh, ‘so I abandoned my plan and gave money to one of the waiters to pay off the gondoliere. Instead of taking you on a moonlit gondola ride I walked with you back to your hotel.’

      Laura stared at him for a moment, then began to laugh helplessly. ‘My story about the proposal lost me a trip in a gondola?’

      Domenico nodded, grinning. ‘But if you wish for one some other time this can be arranged.’

      ‘No, thanks. Besides—’ She hesitated.

      ‘Besides?’ he prompted.

      ‘Our walk back by moonlight was more to my taste.’

      His eyes gleamed. ‘You include the kiss?’

      She nodded, smiling. ‘Short but sweet.’

      ‘I used much self-control,’ he said virtuously.

      ‘I was impressed. Your plan worked like a charm without the gondola, Domenico.’

      His hand tightened on hers. ‘Today there was no plan.’

      ‘And I’ve enjoyed every minute of it.’

      ‘Even the walk in the rain?’

      Laura smiled. ‘Especially that.’ She leaned nearer and held up her face. ‘It’s still raining out there so you’d better kiss me goodnight right here.’

      To her astonishment Domenico jumped up, shaking his head. ‘No.’

      Laura stared blankly. ‘No?’

      ‘I did not bring you here for that.’

      ‘For what?’ She jumped to her feet, eyes cold. ‘A kiss is the only thing on offer!’

      ‘I know this,’ he said roughly. ‘Come. I will take you back.’ He strode out of the room, leaving her to stow her shopping away in the bags, all her pleasure in the evening gone. Domenico returned, wearing a black leather jacket, and in silence she thrust her arms into the sleeves of the raincoat he held out.

      ‘It is too wet to take your presents tonight,’ he informed her. ‘I shall bring them in the morning when I come for you.’

      ‘Are you still going to do that?’ she demanded, tying her belt viciously tight.

      He frowned. ‘Of course. Unless,’ he added with sudden hauteur, ‘you no longer want me to spend the day with you.’

      ‘Do you want to?’

      ‘You know very well that I do.’ He took her by the shoulders, the blue eyes darkening as they bored down into hers. ‘Try to understand. My instructions were to take care of you. So I am taking you back to your hotel.’

      ‘Message received, loud and clear.’ She marched out of the room and down the smooth, worn stone stairs, and at the entrance waited, face averted, while Domenico put up the umbrella. He stood looking down into her set face for a moment then slid his arm round her and held her very firmly.

      ‘It is necessary to share the umbrella,’ he informed her.

      Still smarting from his rejection, Laura controlled a childish urge to shove him away but held herself poker-stiff, wishing she’d brought her own umbrella as they walked in silence Domenico was the first to break.

      ‘You are very angry with me?’ he demanded at last, his accent more noticeable than usual.

      ‘Hurt as well as angry,’ she informed him. ‘The one time I actually offer to kiss a man he turns me down.’

      ‘I wanted the kiss so much I dared not take it,’ he said tightly. ‘I am not made of stone, Laura.’ He halted in the deserted calle as they came in sight of the hotel, holding her closer in the shadows between the lights. ‘Here it is different,’ he whispered, his breath warm against her cheek.

      Laura breathed in the scent of leather and cologne and man as the rain teemed down around them, enclosing them in a private world under the umbrella. His arm tightened and she held up her face as he bent his head to kiss her. Their lips met in a gentle, exploratory caress, which quickly flared into something so different that in some corner of her brain Laura marvelled at Domenico’s skill at keeping the umbrella upright as he kissed her with a mounting passion she responded to helplessly,