The Doctor and the Debutante. Anne Fraser
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But he was waiting for her on the same steps that she’d been sitting on the previous day.
‘Ciao, Alice,’ he said, and kissed her on either cheek. ‘I thought we could have a picnic down on the river then I will take you to see more of Florence. How does that sound?’
He took her to the river bank and they sat on the grass. He pointed to a woman rowing on the river. ‘It is like I do. The boat I row is for a single person, but I know where I can get one for two. Maybe tomorrow I can take you?’
Alice’s pulse skipped a beat. He was already planning their next date.
She looked down at the effort Dante had put into their picnic. There was a round of cheese, several types of cold meats, Tuscan bread and olives, as well as fresh salad leaves. This wasn’t lunch, this was a feast.
‘The olives and salad come from our smallholding and my mother bakes the bread herself. Of course, there is a trattoria not far from here. We could go there instead.’
Alice shook her head. She had had her fill of restaurants, fancy or otherwise. It was perfect here in the sun.
‘Bene, we will eat then we will have time for me to show you something.’
The food Dante had brought was so delicious she found she had eaten more than her fair share.
‘I’m sorry. I’ve eaten more than I should, but it was so delicious.’
‘You must never apologise for enjoying food.’ He leaned back on his elbows and regarded her through slitted eyes. ‘Most women, they are too thin—as if they are starving. All the men I know prefer women who have some curves. Like Botticelli’s Venus.’ He grinned at her. ‘Have you seen any statues in Florence where the women look like men? I don’t think so.’
The look in his eyes was doing all sorts of weird things to her stomach. Hastily she took another forkful of salad and nearly choked.
Dante sat up, looking concerned.
‘Are you okay?’
How attractive, Alice thought furiously. Spitting bits of lettuce leaf all over him. And right enough, to her mortification, Dante lifted his hand and very gently removed something from the corner of her mouth.
‘That’s better.’ He was laughing at her and Alice was tempted to abandon her lunch and run back to the villa. It was the first time she had ever felt gauche and awkward. Until she’d come to Italy, she had used her expensive clothes and jewellery almost like an invisible cloak to hide her natural shyness.
He stood up. ‘So you have seen the statue of David, the Uffizi and the church of Santa Maria Novella.’ Alice was pleased that he’d remembered what she’d told him.
‘Did you climb to the top of the Duomo and look down at the city?’
Alice shook her head. ‘It was too hot to stand in the queue.’
He held out a hand to her. ‘But you must see it. Come, I will take you if you like. It is a little climb but it is worth it. I have a cousin who works there. He will let us come to the front so we don’t have to wait.’
‘No, that’s not fair. We should wait our turn like everybody else.’
Dante frowned. ‘Here in Italy, we are not so polite. But if you don’t want to go to the Duomo, there is another place just a short drive from here where you can see the city. The view is as good as that from the Duomo. When I run in the afternoons after work, I like to go past it and I always have to stop and look. I have my motorbike nearby. We could drive there now.’
Alice nodded and to her surprise he took her by the hand and yet somehow it felt natural. She felt a ripple of excitement as he led her through the narrow streets until they came to a number of motorbikes, haphazardly parked next to each other. It looked to Alice as if the owners had abandoned them there. When he’d mentioned a motorbike, Alice had assumed Dante meant a moped, like every other young Italian seemed to own. She baulked at the powerful-looking Kawasaki, eyeing it with trepidation. ‘You won’t go too fast?’
He laughed. ‘Going fast is the fun of it. But don’t worry, you’ll be safe with me. I promise.’
She found herself on the back of his Kawasaki and soon he was weaving his way in and out of the traffic, gesticulating good-naturedly as cars tried to cut them up. More than once Alice thought they were going to crash and closed her eyes only to find that they had managed, at the last moment, to squeeze through a gap she hadn’t even noticed. She wound her arms tightly around his waist and pressed her face into his back so she wouldn’t have to look. He smelled faintly of olives and soap and she could feel the heat from his body through her clothes. Every part of her body was tingling where it touched him.
At first Alice kept her eyes closed. If she was going to die, she’d rather not see it coming, but after a little while she opened them again. She couldn’t spend the whole day with her eyes closed. Then she relaxed. She had never felt so free in all her life.
Dante was right; the view from the top of the hill was breathtaking. Spread beneath her, a golden red in the dying sun, were the terracotta roofs of Florence. The city didn’t look nearly as big and bewildering from up here.
They sat on a low wall as Dante pointed out the famous landmarks of the city—the Campanile, Santa Croce, the brick tower of the Palazzo Vecchio. His pride in his home city was evident.
They sat there talking, though later Alice couldn’t remember about what. It didn’t seem to matter to either of them. The sun dipped low in the sky and the lights of the city twinkled below them. A cool breeze teased her neck and she shivered, yet she didn’t want this evening to end.
‘Are you cold, cara?‘ Dante asked, putting an arm around her shoulders and pulling her towards him. Alice leant against him, her hand pressed against his chest. The air between them sizzled and sparked and she turned her face towards him, noting how his eyes seemed to glimmer in the dark. As Dante traced a finger down her cheek a delicious shiver ran down her spine. Using the tips of his fingers, he tilted her face upwards and studied her intently, before bringing his mouth down on hers.
The kiss was the sweetest and yet the most exciting Alice had ever known. When he pulled away, she could hardly breathe. She barely knew this man, yet she already knew something special was happening to her.
Later that night, after Dante had dropped Alice back outside her villa, he sped along the mountain road, weaving between cars and revelling in the feel of the wind on his face. As he concentrated on hugging the tight turns he thought about Alice. Dio, she was sexy with her long blonde hair and eyes the colour of the hills. She had curves that made a man want to run his hands across her body. And those lips, they tasted like honey and pears. He found her even more sexy because she had no idea what she could do to a man. She was shy and inexperienced and he wondered if she’d ever been with a man before. But it wasn’t just the way she looked that set his blood on fire, in her heart she was different to the women he usually dated. The opposite of Natalia.
Thinking about Natalia still made him angry. They had grown up together and everyone had expected them to marry. But when he had decided to become a doctor, he and Natalia had argued. She’d wanted him to go into business with her father, telling Dante that that way they could have a good life. A rich life was what she’d meant. Of course he had refused. He was going to be a doctor—it was what he was meant to do. Natalia had stamped her foot and argued that she couldn’t—wouldn’t—wait until he was earning money. So she had left and married someone else. Now she was living the life she had always wanted. Since Natalia he had never let another woman close.
But he had been attracted to Alice instantly. He had asked her to meet him on an impulse, but to his surprise he’d found he enjoyed her company. He’d had many women since Natalia but they weren’t like Alice. They cared more about what they were wearing, what they looked like, and that was fine. But soon it got boring. He liked a woman who could talk, who knew how to laugh, who loved the simple