The Sicilian's Surprise Love-Child. Carol Marinelli
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And is this the same doctor who told you that your drinking would kill you?’ Aurora checked.
Geo gave a reluctant smile.
‘The same doctor who said that you couldn’t manage here alone and needed to be in a nursing home?’ she continued. ‘Because I thought you told me that that doctor could not be believed.’
‘Perhaps,’ Geo conceded, ‘but he was telling the truth this time—Nico is sending a helicopter to fetch me.’
Wildfires had been ravaging the south coast of Sicily and steadily working their way towards their small village for more than a week. They had been told to get out—of course they had—but, like Geo, her father had refused.
She didn’t doubt that Nico wanted his father away from the fires, but a private helicopter was way beyond a boy from Silibri—even a successful one!
Geo’s lies were becoming more and more extreme. A few weeks ago, when Aurora had dropped off his shopping, he had told her that she had just missed seeing Maria. Maria, Geo’s wife and Nico’s mother, had died the year Aurora had been born—some twenty years ago.
Last week he had said that Nico owned three hotels across Europe. When Aurora had refused to believe him, Geo had corrected himself: Nico owned four!
‘He stole from me!’ Geo said now, and cursed. ‘He took what was mine.’
‘You tell tall tales, Geo,’ Aurora said gently.
‘Well, he can stick his nursing home in Rome. I hate him. Why would I want to live closer to him?’
Aurora knew that father and son did not get on. She knew it very well.
But, though she loathed Geo’s treatment of Nico, she could not walk past the old man’s house and not drop in. It was worth it if it made things a little easier on Nico to know that his father was being cared for.
‘Now,’ Aurora said. ‘Is there anything else that you need me to do?’
‘Take some money from my dresser and run down to the store.’
‘I’m not getting you whisky, Geo,’ Aurora told him.
‘Why not? We’re all going to die in these fires!’
Aurora beamed. ‘Then you will meet your maker sober.’
‘Take the money and get me my whisky.’
‘Don’t.’
The very deep voice caused Aurora’s stomach to flip over, but even before she turned to face its direction she knew its source.
‘Nico…’ she said. ‘You’re here?’
‘Yes.’
He wore suit trousers and a white shirt—which somehow, despite the ash floating in the air, looked fresh. His hair was black and clean, unlike hers, which felt heavy after a day spent sweeping leaves outside Geo’s home and trying to get his house as safe as possible.
Oh, why couldn’t he have arrived in a couple of hours, when she was all washed and dressed up for Antonietta’s party?
But, really, what did it matter? Nico would never look at her in that way.
‘How did you get here?’ Aurora asked. ‘The road from the airport is closed.’
‘I came by helicopter,’ Nico said.
‘Told you,’ Geo declared to Aurora, but then he addressed his son. ‘I’m not going anywhere and you’re not welcome here. Get out!’
Here we go, Aurora thought, and sure enough, within two minutes of Nico arriving, Geo was shouting and waving his stick at his son.
‘Get out!’ he raged.
‘Pa…’
‘Out!’ Geo shouted. ‘I want you gone. You bring nothing but trouble. You’re not welcome in my home. You’re a thief and a liar and you ruined me.’
It was Aurora who calmed things down. ‘I’ll take Nico outside and show him what has been done to prepare for the fire,’ she suggested.
They stepped out of the small house, but there was no reprieve—Geo’s words followed them out into the oppressive heat, where the air was smoky.
‘He won’t leave willingly,’ she said.
‘I know he won’t.’ Nico sighed.
He had his chopper waiting, and a care facility in Rome ready to receive Geo, but even as Nico had asked Marianna to put the arrangements in place he had known it was futile.
‘You could carry him out,’ Aurora suggested.
‘I could,’ Nico agreed, ‘but then he would die on my shoulders just to spite me. What about you?’
‘Me?’
‘Yes, why are you staying, Aurora?’
‘Because we have to protect the village.’
‘And what can you do against the might of a wildfire?’ Nico asked.
All five-foot-three of her. She was tiny—a stick.
Except she wasn’t a stick any more.
They had avoided each other as much as possible since that awkward walk four years ago, and he had watched her blossom from a distance. The child he had rejected was now all woman. The cheeky, precocious brat who had hung on his every word was a forthright, assertive woman who, to Nico’s cold surprise, completely turned him on.
Not that he showed it. For one thing had not changed. Nico did not want a family and he did not want the responsibility of another heart.
‘Aurora, you can’t do anything to stop the fire.’
‘I can feed the firefighters,’ Aurora responded. ‘Anyway, Pa says the village is safe.’
‘Aurora…’ Nico kept his voice even, but fear licked at his throat at the thought of her staying here.
The village was not safe. Far from it. Nico had, after all, just viewed the fires from the sky, and heard the worrying comments from his pilot, who was ex-military. Bruno, Aurora’s father, was probably regretting his foolish decision and just putting on a brave face.
‘Leave.’
‘No.’
He persisted. ‘Come with me now and get out.’
‘I already told you—no.’
‘I could insist…’ Nico said, and it angered him when she snorted.
Did she not get that the village was going to go up in smoke and that the fire would destroy all in its path?
‘I could just put you over my shoulder—the same way I am tempted to do with my father.’
‘And then what, Nico? What will you do with me in Rome?’
He gritted his teeth.
‘My father would not object,’ she said. ‘In fact, all the villagers would come out and cheer if you carried me off.’ She gave him a smile that did not quite meet her eyes. ‘But then you would surely return me, Nico, and that would not go down very well.’
No, Nico thought, it would not. ‘Don’t you ever think of leaving?’ he asked.
‘Why would I?’ Aurora shrugged. ‘La famiglia is everything to me. Give me good food and family and my day is complete. What more could I want?’
‘You should deepen your voice, Aurora,’ Nico said, ‘when you impersonate your father.’
‘But I wasn’t impersonating him.’
‘No? You’ve heard it