Italian Affair Read online

  Brianna took his arm and looked up into serious blue eyes. She had a feeling she’d been set up. Sucked in by poetry and a kiss.

  The last hour of the trip was rough, and Brianna’s stomach roiled as the ferry plowed through the waves. A number of times she’d thought she would have to run for the bathroom, but fought it back. And it wasn’t because of the conversation they’d just had. She blamed the cheese, wine, and rough seas.

  When she had come clean and told him why she needed a fake fiancé, he’d sat back without speaking for a few minutes and looked at her with narrowed eyes.

  “For how long?”

  “I don’t know any more until I see the lawyer, and that’s why I need you to translate so I get all the facts right.”

  “So, let me get this straight.” His eyes were fixed on her face. “You need someone to pretend to be your fiancé so you can inherit your real mother’s house, but you don’t know anything more than that?”

  She gulped and nodded. He was looking at her as though she were a wayward child.

  Leaning forward, he nodded at her and a strange smile tilted his lips. “I think I can accommodate you. It might suit me fine to turn up with a fiancée on my arm.”

  Much to Brianna’s amazement, he seemed to be considering her proposal. She still couldn’t believe it. If it wasn’t for the look on his face, she might have said he felt sorry for her. She looked up into his closed face as he ran his hair through his short, dark hair. There was no pity there.

  “So you thought you’d call in to the local employment agency and hire an actor?” He shook his head, obviously unable to believe anyone could be so stupid.

  “No, I didn’t. There’s no need to be rude,” she snapped as her temper began to build. “It’s my problem and I would have thought of something. You don’t have to do it, Tom.”

  “Something?” He laughed. “Anyway, I keep my word. I’ve agreed to help you out and I will. I don’t want any surprises when we get there. I want the complete truth.”

  “There’s no more to tell. I apparently need a husband before I can inherit the cottage, and the why remains a mystery. That’s what I’ll—we’ll—be finding out tomorrow.”

  Diesel fumes filled the saloon and Tom got up and closed the door to the deck. They sat without speaking as the ferry pounded through the heavy seas around the Aeolian Islands, before turning into a quiet harbor. The waves calmed and she began to feel better as the ferry glided across the still water. The moonlight shone on the rainbow slick of the oily water as the ferry berthed at the marina on Lipari Island.

  They presented their tickets and collected their bags from the luggage bay and disembarked. Brianna was grateful for Tom’s hand underneath her elbow as they walked down the slippery ramp to the boardwalk, dragging their suitcases behind them. Despite his arrogance, he could be polite and thoughtful.

  When it suited him.

  He slung both their laptop bags across his shoulders so Brianna could hold the railing with her other hand. As soon as they stepped onto the boardwalk, her stomach settled and her mood improved.

  Things would work out. Something would happen. It always had for her.

  The narrow ramp led across to a cobblestoned corso covered with stalls, and a night market festooned with fairy lights was in full swing. She looked up in delight at bunches of wildflowers hanging in garlands around the first two stalls.

  “Oh, look at those gorgeous colors!” Leaning her suitcase against a stone wall, she scrabbled in her money belt and instructed Tom to mind her bag. She made her purchase and walked back over to him, holding the sweet-smelling flowers up to her face. “Come on, let’s explore,” she said excitedly.

  He shook his head with a frown.

  “We’ll take your bag to your hotel first so you don’t have to cart your luggage around. Where are you staying?”

  She swallowed and looked up at him. “Don’t know yet. Wherever I can find a hotel room, I suppose.”

  “You mean you haven’t booked anywhere?” The exasperation was clear on his face and she glared at him.

  Who did he think he was?

  “Chill out, it’s not your worry. After I’ve looked at the market, I’ll go and find something. Don’t be such a stuffed shirt. I’m in Italy and I plan to enjoy every second, no matter what happens.”

  “Brianna,” he said in a condescending tone. “There are times to be responsible, and then you can have fun. You’ll enjoy yourself even more.”

  “Who says?” She put her hands on her hips and stood nose-to-nose with him. Or at least she attempted to. It was more nose-to-chest. She was tall and he still towered over her.

  “I say,” he said firmly. “Now, come on, we’ll find you a hotel.”

  “But…” She stumbled over her words and tried to think of a suitable retort, but he took her arm and marched her up the hill away from the tempting market stalls. A small brightly lit hotel was situated at the top overlooking the wharf and he ushered her through the doorway.

  “You book in. Then we can get something to eat, and then I’ll find my aunt’s apartment.” He gave her a tight smile. “That way I’ll know where to find you so I can accompany you to your appointment tomorrow.”

  She glared at him without replying.

  Accompany me to my appointment. Jesus, how about you come with me.

  “That’s if you’re still talking to me and want me to translate for you,” he said as a grin crossed his face. “Oh, and if you still need that fiancé.”

  She gritted her teeth and made her way to the counter to ask if there was a room. If she wanted him to help her, she was going to have to put up with him taking charge, and that did not sit well with her.

  When the young girl at reception told her she was lucky to get the last room because it was festival time on the island, she nodded and filled in the registration form, determined not to let Tom know he was right. Being independent had never failed her before, and she was certainly not going to start relying on someone now to get her organized. And she hadn’t expected, or appreciated, the warm fuzzy feeling that had filled her chest when he’d shortened her name. Putting the key in her pocket, she walked across to him, leaving her bags at the reception counter.

  “All sorted,” she said forcing a carefree tone into her voice. “Don’t worry about staying with me. I’m going to grab something to eat at the market and have a bit of a look around. There’s no appointment time set for tomorrow, so turn up here whenever it suits you.”

  Regret settled in her stomach like a brick when he simply nodded at her and handed her the laptop bag, his face expressionless. She watched until the dark swallowed him, and then asked the receptionist if she could arrange to have her luggage sent up. Forcing a jauntiness she didn’t feel into her step, she headed down the hill to the night market. Even though he pushed her buttons, Tom’s sense of responsibility had made things a little easier.

  She could get quite comfortable having him around, despite his snarky attitude.

  Chapter Six

  Tom’s quiet swearing was muffled by the music and noise of the market as he headed back down the hill. He’d be damned if he was going to turn around and check if she was all right. She was not his responsibility.

  God, she hadn’t even booked a room, he thought. Talk about irresponsible. He didn’t need any complications in his life. He was here to enjoy himself and not worry about someone who couldn’t organize herself. Well, stop worrying about a grown woman you just met who is quite capable of looking after herself, said the little devil in his thoughts.

  “Shit.” He didn’t think she could look after herself. If the conversation he had overheard with her brother was anything to go by, she couldn’t even look after her possessions. And he knew what his real problem was—he found her way too attractive and too fascinating for his own good. When she’d buried her face in those bloody flowers and looked up at him, he’d been tempted to kiss her again. And that was the last thing he needed. Why on earth had he kissed
her on the boat?

  Spouting Keats and kissing her?

  She’d already said she thought he was a right… what did she call him? A right balloon. Well, he’d confirmed it for her now. He hadn’t even thought about it before he’d kissed her. It’d just happened, and he was damned if he was going to lose sleep over a single kiss. In fact, he’d probably lose sleep because he couldn’t get her out of his mind. And not just her problems, either. The warmth of her body lingered on his skin and his heart gave a little jump.

  “Nothing wrong with a good time,” said the little voice. “After all, you are here to start your new life.”

  He reached the end of the street and turned right. The cathedral was on the left as he remembered, and then he passed the Museo Archeologico before turning back toward the harbor where Carmen’s apartment was located adjacent to the small marina she and Uncle Renzo had inherited from his grandparents.

  A wave of nostalgia washed over him as he turned into the street and headed toward the bright blue door of Aunt Carmen’s apartment. He had played in this street as a child with his brothers and sisters when they had visited from Australia. The balcony on the first floor still had the same table and chairs and hanging plants of his childhood memories. His parents and aunt and uncle had sat up there in the early evening and watched them all playing in the street below. He shrugged off thoughts of his new Scottish friend and her problems. Dealing with his reaction to Brianna could wait until tomorrow. He had his own life to sort out first.

  The entry to the apartment was at street level overlooking the marina, and the office was next door. The signage to the business was faded, and there was no information about opening hours or services available. Even as he raised his hand to ring the bell, his mind ticked over. True, he knew very little about running a marina, but good business practice carried across, no matter what the enterprise was. He would have to talk to the staff about getting some advertising out there for catching the passing tourist trade.

  Before he could press the buzzer, the door opened and he was assailed by the overpowering smell of rose perfume and an excited squeal. He dropped his suitcase and held out his arms as Aunt Carmen reached out and grabbed his cheeks with her soft, plump hands, pulling his head down for an exuberant kiss on both sides of his face.

  “Oh, Tomas, look how you have grown!”

  He grinned. Of course he had—he hadn’t visited Lipari Island since he was a teenager. It had been years since he’d last seen his aunt, but his childhood memories of spending time with Carmen and Renzo were wonderful. Before his father had taken the professorship in Armidale, his parents had traveled the world, and he had spent several summers on this beautiful island with his family. But it had been fifteen years since his last visit, and now Uncle Renzo had passed on. Tom took his aunt’s arm and stood back. She had aged, and he was pleased he could help out and keep the business in the family.

  “It is wonderful to be here, Aunt Carmen. “

  “Come in, come in. I have someone I want you to meet.” She chattered on as she led him into the small foyer. Tom picked up his bags and followed her down the narrow hallway.

  “Put your bags in my room. You will be sleeping in the pull-out bed in the living room until I leave.”

  “Leave?”

  “I am going on a trip. You will need somewhere to sleep, so you will have my bed after I leave tomorrow.”

  She led him into her bedroom, and Tom closed his eyes as the smell of roses mixed with camphor and mold hit him. Opening them and looking around, his stomach sank. The walls were papered in huge pink roses, and on the east-facing wall a small shrine protruded out into the middle of the room. Tom placed his bags next to the table, which was filled with candles, rosaries, holy cards, and a huge photograph of Uncle Renzo. Incense burned in a small brass receptacle and his stomach moved toward his throat at the mix of the cloying smells.

  “You will be able to pray in here as well.” Aunt Carmen beamed at him and pointed to the prayer cushion on the floor.

  Tom thought of his minimalist apartment back home overlooking the park in Armidale, with its white walls and lightly polished floors. And he hadn’t been to a church since his mother had dragged him along to his confirmation over twenty years ago.

  “Ah, yes. Thank you, but I will be staying with my…er…fiancée.”

  Aunt Carmen’s face fell. “Your fiancée?”

  “Yes, Brianna and I became engaged on the trip over.” There was no need to tell his aunt they’d only met on the trip over as well. No one needed to know the background of this fake engagement it looked like he had decided to agree to, and he’d sort out something to tell his family when he thought of it.

  “If you’re talking to Mama, please don’t mention it yet. We haven’t told anyone.” Tom swallowed. “You’re the first to know, Aunt Carmen.”

  “And I’m the second.”

  As they walked into the small kitchen, a young woman stood and held her hand out to Tom. Dressed in a low-cut red dress that showed her ample cleavage, she looked him up and down, and he sensed he was found wanting.

  “Tomas, this is Helena. She will be your secretary in the office from tomorrow.”

  “Oh, good.” Tom took her hand and shook it. “You can show me around and help me get set up.”

  “No,” she said, boredom lacing her voice. “It is my first day, too.”

  Tom turned to his aunt and she shrugged. “Ah, I thought it would be nice for you to have someone in the office with you…and Helena is my friend’s daughter and she was looking for a job.”

  “Oh, I see.” Tom wondered if Helena was one of the women Nick had mentioned on the phone.

  Aunt Carmen gestured for him to sit at the table. Despite the smells in the rest of the apartment, the aroma coming from the pots on the stove was mouthwatering.

  As his aunt served their meal, Tom tried to converse with Helena, but she had picked up a nail file and was filing her long, red fingernails with disinterest and avoided looking at him. After a few questions to her, which she ignored, he turned to his aunt and caught her up with the family news. It was difficult to focus on the conversation, and he tried to keep his thoughts away from Brianna, but all he could see was the cross look on her face when he’d left her at the hotel. As well as those legs that went forever, Christ, he was the one who should be cross. Bloody crazy scheme, and now he’d committed to it by telling his aunt he had a fiancée.

  “Well, Tomas?” He realized his aunt had asked him a question. “Are you staying here tonight? You have brought your luggage, but not your fiancée?”

  “Sorry, Aunt Carmen, I must be a bit jet-lagged. I’ll stay here tonight with you, and then Brianna and I will look for an apartment tomorrow.”

  God, this was becoming more complicated by the minute. Why the hell had he promised to help Brianna out?

  …

  Brianna sat in the warm sun, her back against the whitewashed wall of the small hotel where she’d spent the night. Her booted feet were crossed in front of her and the sun warmed her bare legs. A good night’s sleep had put her in a much better frame of mind. Things were looking up. Tom would translate for her, and until she saw what the deal was with the inheritance, the lawyers would see she had a husband in the making.

  She owed Tom an apology for losing her temper and being a smart-mouthed bitch last night. After all, there was really no reason for him to help her out. It wasn’t as if they were even friends. She wondered why he’d agreed.

  I’ll hold my temper in and not say a thing, even when he does act like an asshole. She grinned when she remembered how he’d reacted last night and left her standing there. She hadn’t stayed long at the market, just wandered around the cobbled streets wondering whether her mother had ever walked on the same streets at some time in her life.

  She sighed. There was so much to find out and so many questions to be answered.

  If Tom hadn’t been coming with her this morning, she would have been in a right state by
now. But knowing he was coming had eased her mind. She’d slept soundly and was looking forward to sorting out the legal details, and hopefully seeing her mother’s cottage. Maybe they’d even have some pictures and personal effects, something to help her know her mother.

  “Not cottage, casetta,” she corrected herself. Time to start learning the language.

  It was a moment she’d waited a long time for, and she couldn’t believe how close she’d come to losing it. If she hadn’t made the call from Sydney saying she would be here by the end of the week, she would have missed out and the house would have gone to someone else. So there had to be more family somewhere. A shiver of excitement rippled through her. She’d tried for so long to find out about her mother. She wondered if Rosa had been born here or if she had moved here alone. It wouldn’t be long now and all would be revealed…hopefully.

  She sighed. The news about the inheritance had been totally unexpected, and she hadn’t had much time to think about what it was going to mean for her life. There were some big changes coming, of that she was sure.

  The crunch of footsteps on the white gravel leading to the hotel entrance caught her attention, and she looked across the brightly colored garden. Tom was striding through the gate, and she pushed herself to her feet as he crossed the small patch of lawn toward her.

  “Good morning.” She injected as much enthusiasm as she could into her voice. “Isn’t it the most sparkly day?” Lifting her arm, she shaded her eyes and pointed to the harbor, where teenagers were tacking across the ruffled water in small yachts with madly flapping sails. “Look.”

  The morning sunlight reflected off the small waves stirred up by the light breeze as the yachts bounced along. The shrill cries of the young sailors carried across the water and were overlaid by the deep booming of the morning ferry’s horn as it pulled away from the wharf for the trip back to the mainland.