The Italian Effect. Josie Metcalfe
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and Taddeo’s body was thrust right up into the air she gave a shriek and sank under the surface.
She’d swallowed several mouthfuls and was coughing and spluttering by the time she surfaced to find Taddeo suspended from his father’s hands and screeching with delight.
‘I am so sorry,’ his father said remorsefully as he reached out a hand to support her, Taddeo held against one broad shoulder with the other. ‘I wanted to surprise my son and I didn’t realise you hadn’t seen me coming.’
She couldn’t speak for a moment, having to concentrate all her energies on drawing her next breath without coughing.
‘Are you all right? Do you want me to help you to the beach?’ He must have put the child back in the water because now he had pulled her into his arms and was supporting her against his body.
Lissa shook her head as she heaved in another breath and realised with gratitude that it wasn’t going to trigger another bout.
‘I’ll be all right,’ she gasped and looked up into his face for the first time, straight into the dark intensity of deep brown eyes shot with unexpected streaks of gold.
Even in his car she hadn’t been this close to him and when she realised just how much contact there was between their nearly naked bodies she grew still.
As she was still out of her depth, he was supporting her in the water and she could feel the movement of every muscle in his powerful legs and lean torso as he controlled their combined weight. And he was so warm, his skin a deep bronze against her lighter gold with a dark swathe of wet hair spread right across the width of his chest.
‘I…I’m all right,’ she stammered and tried to lean away from the disturbing contact, but there was nothing to push against except him and her legs tangled between his, making the contact even more intimate. ‘If you let me go, I’ll swim back to shore.’
She glanced in that direction and saw that Taddeo had already reached the beach and joined the sandcastle construction crew.
‘But what if I don’t want to let you go?’ he murmured in a husky voice and tightened his arms fractionally.
Her eyes flew back to his in surprise. Not want to let her go? What was he saying?
‘Some of my ancestors were fishermen,’ he continued, the deep rumble of his voice reaching her through the contact between their bodies as much as through the air. She almost felt as if she was aware of him with every fibre of her body. ‘If a fisherman rescues a mermaid he would never just let her go without making sure she was all right. Then, if he’s lucky, she’ll reward him for taking care of her.’
‘You want a reward?’ she whispered, the words barely louder than the sound of the water around their bodies as she tried to come to terms with the idea that he might be flirting with her.
It took several seconds before she realised that her own question had sounded flirtatious, and that he’d taken it that way.
‘Of course I want a reward,’ he asserted warmly, his eyes flicking from her eyes to her mouth and back again.
Lissa’s tongue moistened lips gone suddenly dry and she realised that for the first time in several weeks the idea of kissing a man was appealing…this man.
‘Come out with me for a meal,’ he demanded suddenly and she blinked.
‘A meal?’ she repeated unsteadily, aghast at just how disappointed she was that he hadn’t kissed her. ‘But…’
‘I want to thank you properly for what you did for my son, so…may I collect you this evening?’
Gratitude.
Her spirits fell and drowned around her. Of course, the only reason why he was asking her out was out of gratitude for helping his son. How could she possibly have thought he was interested in her personally? He would have done the same if she’d been a man.
‘But won’t you be on duty?’ she asked, grabbing for the first excuse she could while she turned away from him and slid out of his arms. It was so easy this time that she knew he hadn’t tried to stop her.
‘The hospital has finally given me some time off for good behaviour,’ he said as he swam smoothly and silently beside her, easily keeping pace with her more nervous strokes. ‘So…will seven-thirty suit you? Taddeo will be going to bed early as he’s still officially recuperating.’
The part of her that had been so recently hurt wanted to turn him down with a pleasant excuse, but the rest of her, the part that had come to vibrant life when he’d wrapped her tightly against his body, was urging her to accept.
What else have you got to look forward to this evening? said an annoying little voice inside her head. Why turn down the invitation to share a meal with a handsome man, especially as you know in advance that he sees it merely as a way of repaying a debt? It isn’t as if there’s any danger of becoming involved in a relationship with him. You’re nothing more than chance acquaintances, after all.
‘Make it eight,’ she countered as her feet finally touched solid ground and she stood up to wade away from him through the shallows. ‘Taddeo told me he’s looking forward to his daddy reading a story to him tonight.’
She walked over to retrieve her towel, overwhelmingly conscious of his eyes following her, but her deliberate mention of his son had worked very effectively as a reminder.
For all the forbidden attraction she felt towards him, she was nothing more than a transient holidaymaker and he was the local doctor with a little son to consider. There was no way their two lives could ever do more than touch fleetingly.
‘There is a gentleman waiting for you in Reception,’ the voice had said over the phone and Lissa’s hands were shaking visibly as she smoothed them one last time over the dress she’d chosen.
It wasn’t that she was uncertain about the suitability of the style or its fit; the honey-coloured slip of silk was cut on fluid lines and was close to perfect. After all, her whole holiday wardrobe had been chosen with just such events in mind.
They just hadn’t been chosen for her to go out with this man.
It didn’t seem to matter that she kept reminding herself that she’d decided to steer clear of men for the foreseeable future, or that the offer of a meal was by way of showing his gratitude. For the last couple of hours her pulse and respiration had rocketed each time she’d thought about his invitation, and much though she felt she ought to cancel, she knew she had no intention of doing so.
‘He’s waiting,’ she muttered, conscious of time passing while she dithered, and a lifetime of punctuality wouldn’t allow her to delay any more.
‘You already know he’s totally out of bounds, so there’s absolutely no danger in spending an evening with him,’ she reminded herself, resorting to a pep talk in the descending lift. ‘He’s just a man.’
The doors slid open and her first sight of him gave the lie to her assertion. Her knees grew weak just at the sight of him waiting for her in the reception area and she had to admit that Matteo Aldarini wasn’t just anything.
It really wasn’t fair, she wailed silently as she gazed at him in something close to despair.
He was wearing dark formal trousers that accentuated the long lean length of his legs and his slim hips, and an open-necked white shirt that contrasted starkly with the bronze of his skin. The suit jacket was casually suspended over one shoulder by the loop, but there was nothing casual in the expression in his eyes as they travelled over her from head to toe and back again.
‘Che bella!’ he murmured finally as he took her hand and lifted it to his lips, then brought it through the crook of his arm. He turned to usher her towards the door without taking his eyes from her. ‘I will be the envy of every man tonight.’
There was a heat in his gaze that almost seemed to scorch where it touched and she was quite grateful for the shadows once they were outside.