Unfortunately, there were two things wrong with the picture—Matt wasn’t her husband and Taddeo wasn’t her child.

She must have made a sound, because suddenly both of them were looking at her. The expression of pleasure in their dark eyes was subtly different, but they had almost identical smiles of welcome on their faces.

“Lissa! You’re late! Papa has already started the story,” Taddeo exclaimed. “Come and sit next to me so you can see the pictures.”

When she hesitated, Matt seconded the invitation, but the expression in his eyes wasn’t nearly so candid.

“Yes, Lissa. Come and sit next to us so you can find out if the sky is really falling down.”

There was a sweet pain in leaning close to the two of them to share the book, knowing that it was a once-in-a-lifetime thing. One half of her mind was relishing every nuance, from the fresh, soapy smell of Taddeo’s skin to the deep resonance of Matt’s voice. The other half was desperately trying to preserve even a little distance, so that when she was no longer part of the circle, her heart wouldn’t forever mourn their loss.

Dear Reader,

I was only a child the first time I saw it, but I can still remember my first view of the Adriatic and the stark scenery of the southern Italian coast.

Many people travel to ancient monuments to learn about other cultures. For me, though, the land of the inhabitants, the rocks they climbed and the sea they gazed out over, tell me far more of who those ancient peoples were, deep inside, where it matters.

When I wanted to write Lissa’s story, that long-treasured region in Italy was the obvious place for her to meet Matteo and his daredevil son and to discover the powerful effect both of them would have on her life.

Happy reading,

Josie Metcalfe

The Italian Effect
Josie Metcalfe

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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CONTENTS

COVER

Dear Reader

TITLE PAGE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

COPYRIGHT

CHAPTER ONE

TWO days into her holiday Lissa flopped back on her beach towel and heaved a great sigh.

She might have booked it at the very last minute, but it was all exactly as the travel agent had promised. The Italian sky was impossibly blue, the sand was soft and white and the sun was warm and bright.

It wasn’t exactly the exotic Far-Eastern destination she’d been looking forward to for the last six months, but it was her grandmother’s native country. She just wished she were visiting it under happier circumstances.

As it was, all around her was a complete selection of nationalities and every one of them, from the oldest to the youngest, was enjoying themselves…and she was already bored to tears.

‘There’s nothing to do,’ she muttered, slapping shut the thick glitzy novel she’d picked up at the airport and closing her eyes in disgust. It was by a favourite author and she’d been so certain that it would be able to hold her attention. She needed it to be able to hold her attention because there were things she didn’t want to have time to think about.

After the last year of non-stop activity and the excitement of making all those plans for her future…No, she wasn’t going to think about that disaster and the way it had changed her life for ever.

She desperately needed this break and had been looking forward to having time to relax, but, oh, she was finding it so hard to unwind.

Yesterday she’d hired a car to take a preliminary look at the local sights and had promised herself a longer look at the nearby countryside which her grandmother had described so many times. She had a whole month to fill, after all, she reminded herself with a silent groan, and it was still far too soon to start thinking about anything further away than that.

This morning she’d even visited the hotel’s beauty salon for more than an hour’s pampering and then had promptly undone most of the beautician’s efforts with a dip in the sea. Unless she was willing to waste her time wandering around the small parade of souvenir-filled shops lining the sea front, all that remained was to lie here and listen to the world go by.

Thank goodness the ice-cream vendor seemed to have switched his chimes off for a while. It had been a welcome surprise to recognise the very English sound of ‘Greensleeves’ instead of the ubiquitous ‘O sole mio’—at least until the thirty-seventh repetition.

Lissa sighed again and then forced herself to play the game of trying to separate out all the different elements of the sounds surrounding her.

First and most pervasive was the rhythmic susurration of the waves on the shore, punctuated by the raucous shrieks of seabirds. She’d watched them earlier, wheeling about the edges of the rocky outcrops that edged the beach.

Almost as raucous were the children, their cries and laughter ebbing and flowing around her with the intermittent thuds of running feet. There were several family groups with youngsters ranging from a few months old to young teenagers, and the way they all seemed to play together it was difficult to tell which children belonged with which parents.

Nearby was a young couple, honeymooners by the self-obsessed look of them and the shiny newness of their matching wedding rings. Their soft murmurs reached her on the fitful breeze and faded every so often into meaningful silences and husky laughter.

If the steamy kiss she’d witnessed a few moments ago was anything to go by, it wouldn’t be long before they disappeared back to their room. When it happened, she wouldn’t allow herself to dwell on the fact that she was probably the only person on the beach by herself; that she should have been part of a pair by now, if only…

She shook her head to dispel the thought before it got any further and concentrated again on the life going on around her, determined to become part of it even if only by observation.

There was a group of young men farther over, fit and healthy and obviously proud of revealing it in their choice of skimpy beachwear. They were locals if their dark hair and deep tans were any indication and had been taking a delight in passing comments among themselves about the women going by. Apparently they were assuming that pale skin meant their targets were newly arrived visitors ripe for a holiday romance. They were also clearly taking it for granted that the women they were dissecting wouldn’t understand their conversation.

It wasn’t the first time that Lissa was glad of her own mixed heritage. Not only did her dark hair and the natural olive tint of her skin offer her a degree of protection against these predators, but her comprehension of Italian was easily good enough to put her on her guard. An insult spoken with an apparently admiring smile was still an insult.

She heard a group of giggling female English voices arrive nearby and opened one eye to peer in their direction. It didn’t take long to discover that they were apparently a group of girls on their first foreign holiday without their parents.

Lissa could remember that age of innocence—just left school and waiting for exam results to know whether she was going to be able to follow her dream of becoming a doctor—but it seemed so much longer than ten years ago.

She didn’t need a crystal ball to know what was going to happen next and the grim inevitability of it kept her watching.

It only took a few minutes for the local males to close in on their new quarry with swaggering walks and gleaming smiles. The girls clearly didn’t understand the crudity of the comments being made about them and their physical attributes, or the bargaining going on between the men as they apportioned the girls among themselves. Lissa could, and it turned her stomach to see them led off like lambs to the slaughter.

She closed her eyes again but what little pleasure she’d found in the day had been soured. It didn’t seem to matter that she tried to concentrate on the soothing sounds of the ocean. All she seemed to hear were the insincere compliments that had been showered on the naïve girls just a few feet away. How long would it be before their eyes were opened? Hours? Days? At least it wouldn’t be longer than the one- or two-week span of their holiday.

In her case, it had taken months for the penny to drop.

She tried to shut the sounds out and was seriously contemplating going back to the hotel when she heard a new sound added to the cacophony and every nerve switched to full alert.

‘Oh, my God,’ shrieked a voice not far away, a young and obviously frightened girl’s voice. ‘Help me, someone. He’s fallen. He’s hurt…’

Lissa was on her feet almost before she realised she was moving, her eyes scanning the far end of the beach.

Several other people had obviously heard the scream and they were all looking towards the rocks that curved round like a protective arm at the far end of the strip of sand.

Second nature had her reaching for her bag and then she was off and running.

A small crowd had started gathering, several voices calling out advice.

Lissa sent up a silent prayer of gratitude that she’d never lost her basic comprehension of Italian even though her speech might not be quite fluent. It was certainly enough to understand that the voices in the crowd were suggesting that the unseen victim should be moved into a more comfortable position.

‘Fermo! Non muoverti!’ she shouted as she pushed her way through the gathering knot of onlookers, terrified that they might move the victim and damage his spinal cord. ‘Stia attento della spina dorsale!’

Her voice must have conveyed both the urgency of the situation and the fact that she was an authority of some sort, because everyone stood back to let her through. Even the young woman who had first called the alarm grew silent, but tears still streamed down her face as an older woman wrapped her in comforting arms.

‘Chiami un’ambulanza!’ she ordered as soon as she caught sight of the scene in front of her, then dropped to her knees in the sand and concentrated on beginning her observations.

She couldn’t help thinking that the little boy lying crumpled and unconscious on the unforgiving rocks looked just like an abandoned puppet. He looked so small and fragile that she just wanted to pick him up and cradle him in her arms.

‘ABC,’ she murmured under her breath, grounding herself in the routine she’d been following ever since she’d begun her training in emergency medicine. ‘Airway, breathing, circulation.’

He was lying on his back across the rocks with his head twisted to one side, but all the while he was able to breathe it was far safer not to move his neck. His pulse was good, too…a little fast but strong and regular.

In between, she was being peppered with information about her little charge. It seemed as if almost half of the people on the beach knew little Taddeo.

A voice called something from the back of the rapidly growing crowd and the message was passed forward. With so many voices chiming in it could have been garbled, but Lissa understood enough. There had been an accident a few miles up the coast. A car had crashed into a motorcycle. It could take half an hour or even more before qualified help arrived.

‘It’s up to me, then,’ she murmured as she rested her fingers gently over the steady pulse in the fragile neck. ‘No proper equipment. Nothing except all those years of training to fall back on.’

Suddenly her brain seemed to be working at lightning speed.

‘I need a small surfboard,’ she announced, the Italian word emerging from her mouth without conscious thought. She’d been watching some of the children riding the waves into shore on them a little while ago and one of them would have to serve as a makeshift backboard. ‘And some towels and some leather belts…Oh, and some strong men with gentle hands.’

‘Wouldn’t we all?’ quipped one of the women in the crowd. There was a sudden ripple of laughter at her wry comment and Lissa couldn’t help smiling, in spite of the tense situation.

It took very little time for her strange shopping list to arrive and then it was a case of demonstrating exactly what she needed her untrained assistants to do.

It seemed as if it took for ever before she had five-year-old Taddeo positioned to her satisfaction, his head braced by rolled-up towels on either side to prevent his neck from moving and held still by several strips of adhesive tape from the first-aid kit in her bag. The rest of his body was cushioned by more towels and stabilised by the borrowed belts wrapped around the board.

He was still unconscious and there was a large knot on the back of his head that was bleeding sluggishly. It didn’t look as if he’d broken any limbs, but only an X-ray would tell. As for any further injuries…

‘Carry him carefully,’ she encouraged the men who took either end of the board. ‘Don’t slip or you’ll jolt him. We don’t want to risk paralysing him.’

She raced back across the narrow beach to grab the rest of her belongings before rejoining the small cavalcade, sparing a brief reassuring smile for the young woman being comforted by the matriarch of the boisterous family.

It was a precarious trek up the winding pathway to the road at the top. She’d taken the much steeper steps on the way down, but even this route seemed almost as precipitous as Mount Everest now that she wanted to cover the distance quickly.

She knew that the first hour after an accident—the so-called ‘golden’ hour—could be the most crucial in deciding the survival of a patient. It would have been impossible not to be conscious that time was ticking by at an alarming rate.

‘La macchina,’ announced one of the volunteer porters as they came to a halt beside a luxurious car.

While she supervised the loading of her little charge across the back seat she subdued a brief pang of worry at abandoning her own hired vehicle. It could be awkward if she was left stranded at the hospital without transport, but it was far more important that she should be close at hand to watch over Taddeo.

Lissa perched herself on the edge of the seat, bracing her hip against the edge of the makeshift backboard to ensure it didn’t shift as the engine roared into life. She tightened one hand over the luxurious leather upholstery, the other probing gently around the wedged towels to check on her charge’s pulse.

Still strong and steady, thank goodness, although his continued unconsciousness was worrying. Supposing he had sustained something more than concussion? A haemorrhage? Brain damage? Was he in a coma, dying even as she counted his pulse and monitored his breathing?

‘Don’t be stupid,’ she muttered, giving herself a mental shake. ‘Just because you aren’t surrounded by the usual equipment in the emergency department doesn’t mean that your brain isn’t functioning the way it usually does.’ She checked the size of the child’s pupils, having to peer closely because the irises were so dark a brown that they almost merged with the pupil.

‘Still even,’ she whispered, relieved that they also seemed to be equally responsive to changes in light levels.

‘Uno minuto,’ her unofficial ambulance driver called over his shoulder, announcing their imminent arrival at the hospital. Lissa sighed with relief, then started to brace herself for the task of dredging up enough of her rusty Italian to try to explain the situation and her observations.

She marshalled her thoughts into some semblance of order and spared a brief thought for the paramedics who had to do this on a daily basis. She’d always appreciated the ones who managed to give the maximum of pertinent detail in the minimum of words but had never realised how difficult it could be to do it.

‘Può aiutarmi?’ she called, beckoning two gentlemen in uniform standing near the entrance to the small regional hospital’s emergency entrance. They certainly looked strong enough to help to lift the makeshift stretcher out of the car.

‘There’s been an accident. He’s hit his head. He’s unconscious,’ she said, relieved that the hastily collected phrases had the desired effect.

Her redundant driver waved off her expressions of gratitude and called his good wishes after her as she hurried away. In no time at all she was following the child into the department, relieved to have arrived so swiftly.

Once inside the doors she was stopped by a wall of bodies and sound, unable to believe her eyes.

The whole place seemed to be completely crowded with a multitude of people wailing in misery, and for a moment she wondered how on earth she was going to get her little charge the attention he urgently needed.

Her press-ganged porters obviously knew their way around, as there was no hesitation in their passage through the unit. She followed closely behind, her eyes darting around in the hopes of spotting someone in authority as soon as possible.

One of her willing companions called out urgently to a harried nurse who pointed towards a curtained cubicle. The woman’s reply was totally incomprehensible to Lissa, the words lost in the volume of misery surrounding them.

Lissa supervised as they gently deposited their burden onto an examining table then checked the little figure again. There was still no sign that he was returning to consciousness and she was growing increasingly frustrated that there was absolutely nothing she could do about the delay in getting someone to look at him.

If this had been the accident and emergency department she’d been working in for the last year, she wouldn’t even have had to raise her voice to have at least a nurse in attendance. What kind of place was this to have the reception area filled with such a noisy rabble and not a member of medical staff in evidence? Was there anyone in charge?

When the curtain was whisked aside behind her she whirled to face the intruder. She would have loved to demand answers to each one of those questions but doubted whether her grasp of Italian was up to it. Neither was it the time or place for such recriminations. It was Taddeo who mattered.

A distant part of her brain registered the fact that the man who had just joined them was the epitome of every cliché about handsome Italian males—all lean good looks and flashing dark eyes. The more rational side registered the fact that his clothing might be in immaculate good taste but it was decidedly rumpled and he looked as exhausted as if he hadn’t slept for a week.

That didn’t mean that those dark eyes were lazy about skimming over her from head to toe, lingering pointedly in several places.

Lissa glared at him when his gaze finally rose high enough to reach her face, angry that her body was stirring in response to the admiration she could read there.

The sudden shiver of awareness drew her attention to the fact that she was wearing little more than a gauzy shirt over a swimsuit that covered her as faithfully as a second skin. It was a measure of how single-minded her concentration had been over the last half-hour that she’d completely forgotten her skimpy attire, but now wasn’t the time to dwell on it.

‘You are a doctor?’ she demanded with a lift of her chin that denied the previous few seconds of byplay, and received a cool nod in reply. ‘Well, there’s been an accident,’ she announced, the words beginning to sound more fluent the more often she used them. ‘The child fell and hit his head. He’s still unconscious.’ She gestured towards her charge, affording him his first view of their patient.

He gasped and she found herself unceremoniously nudged aside as he strode to the side of the bed.

‘Mio figlio!’ he exclaimed in a voice full of horror as he began to examine the child, and they were almost the only words she understood in the following flood of words. All she could tell was that they were questions and that he was very angry.

‘I’m sorry, but when you speak so fast I can’t understand,’ she announced, reverting to English and stopping him in his tracks. ‘Did you say he’s your son?’

‘Si…Yes,’ he corrected himself impatiently, his dark brows pulled together in a deep V as he checked the unconscious child’s pupillary reaction. ‘Taddeo Aldarini. He’s almost five years old…But what happened to him? Where is Maddelena, and what are you doing with my son?’

He’d straightened up by then and his final question was almost an accusation, not softened at all by the sexy accent shaping his words.

Lissa chose to answer the more important one first.

‘He fell at the beach and landed on his back on the rocks.’ She held up her hand when he went to interrupt. ‘He’s been unconscious since he fell but his vital signs are all within normal bounds. I didn’t let anyone move him until I could stabilise his spine on an improvised backboard. As far as I can see, his only external injury is a bump on the back of his head where the skin has been broken.’

‘You are a nurse?’ he questioned as he swiftly jotted down what she’d told him on the case notes.

‘A doctor,’ she corrected as an amplified voice cut through the hubbub outside the curtain. The electronic distortion meant that she understood little more than the fact that the man was being paged in a hurry.

‘What sort of a doctor?’ he demanded with a suspicious look.

‘Accident and emergency for the last year but I’ve been thinking about going into general practice.’ At least, she had been before her private life had collapsed in ruins around her.

‘You can prove this?’ he challenged with a harried look over his shoulder as the disembodied voice called his name again.

‘Now? No,’ she said, startled by the demand. Was he going to sue her for practising medicine without permission in a foreign country? But Italy was part of the European Union. Didn’t that mean that people were free to work in any of the member states?

The thoughts scrambling around in her head screeched to a halt with the memory of her little bag of belongings.

‘Just a minute.’ She crouched down to tip everything out onto the floor and grabbed the flat leather wallet hidden right at the bottom. ‘Is this what you want to see?’

She held out both her passport and her hospital identity card. She had no idea how she’d come to pack it when she’d had no intention of doing anything other than vegetate for the next four weeks, but when she’d been preparing for her day on the beach had found it with the rest of her documents.

He examined both of them in silence then gave a decisive nod.

‘I would like to ask a favour of you,’ he said, his choice of words strangely formal. ‘Would you accompany Taddeo to the…radiografia? As you see, I already have so many people waiting and now there are the victims of…scontrarsi.’ He mimed a collision and gestured towards the throng all too audible on the other side of the curtain, but his glance towards his son was very telling. He was obviously torn between his duty to his patients and his personal wish to be beside his son.

Strictly speaking, it wasn’t her problem but, having become involved in the situation, how could she not see it through?

‘I’ll stay with him on one condition—that you find me something a little more…’ She gestured towards her skimpy attire with a grimace. It had seemed fairly modest on the beach, but next to his fully clothed body, there was something almost…intimate about the contrast.

‘It would be a shame to hide such beauty,’ he said in a low voice and she glimpsed a sudden unnerving flash of heat in his dark eyes. ‘But perhaps it would be safer.’

An hour later, Lissa’s pulse still tended to miss a beat when she thought about the startling potency of that glance. The only way she’d been able keep it under some sort of control was to concentrate on her little charge.

It had been a major undertaking to dredge up enough Italian to make herself understood, especially as those long conversations with her grandmother had never covered such topics as ‘make sure you leave the towels in position around his head until you’ve taken the X-ray of his neck’.

Along the way, she found several members of staff who spoke good English—better than her Italian, at any rate—and was able to ask some tactful questions. By the time she’d collected the evidence that Taddeo had suffered no broken or cracked bones, she’d also started to build up a picture of why the accident and emergency department was in such chaos.

‘Dr Aldarini, would you like to set your mind at rest?’ she invited when she finally managed to track him down with the developed X-ray plates.

He pounced on them so eagerly that Lissa was glad that she’d thought to bring them down to him. It was obvious that he’d been worrying about his son in spite of the fact that he was still rushed off his feet.

While he scrutinised each plate minutely, she did the same to him, wondering just what it was about this man, rumpled and exhausted as he was, that set up this strange electric tingle inside her. She couldn’t remember having had anything quite like it happen to her before and it was totally inappropriate. Not only was she in Italy for rest and recuperation in the wake of the disaster of the last few months, but this man was obviously a pillar of the local community. He was probably a very loving husband to the pretty young wife she’d had to leave behind at the beach and he was definitely a concerned parent.

She made herself drag her eyes away from him to gauge how many patients there were still waiting for attention.

None seemed to be victims of the outbreak of food-poisoning she’d heard about. Apparently, there had been some sort of welcoming buffet at one of the larger hotels a little way along the coast, resulting in nearly fifty people suffering the effects of the flouting of hygiene regulations in the kitchen.

‘Where is Taddeo now?’ Dr Aldarini demanded when he finished scrutinising the plates, and she turned to face him again. ‘Is he on his way back down here?’

‘I hope you don’t think I was throwing my weight around, but…he came round while the X-rays were being taken and the radiographer and I decided he would probably be better off under supervision in the children’s ward. Apparently the paediatrician already knows him there?’

His mouth twisted into a wry grin. ‘Unfortunately, too well,’ he agreed. ‘The last time he was here was several months ago when he came off his bicicletta and broke his arm.’ He shook his head. ‘He has no fear, that one. He will give me white hair.’

Her eyes travelled over the thick dark strands but couldn’t see any evidence that it was happening yet. All she noticed was the fact that his hair was just long enough to reveal the same existence of a tendency to unruly curls as his son had inherited.

‘The paediatrician said that as he’d been unconscious for so long, he’ll keep Taddeo here overnight under observation. He’ll speak to you when you have time to call, but he was cautiously optimistic…the way doctors always are. Oh, and I have no idea how you’ll get in contact with your wife to let her know what’s happening. She was very upset, but I had to leave her behind at the beach. You’ll need to put her mind at rest about Taddeo.’

She couldn’t help thinking that the young woman she’d left at the beach seemed absurdly young to be married to such a man as this—still dynamic in spite of his exhaustion. And it wasn’t just because he’d made her pulse leap when she’d been determined not to have anything to do with men for the foreseeable future.

‘Taddeo has no mother,’ he announced bluntly, his voice as hard as stone for all his attractive accent. ‘Maddelena is the daughter of a colleague.’

Now, why on earth should his brusque words send a shaft of pleasure through her? she thought crossly. Why should it matter that the man wasn’t married? For all she knew, he might be involved in a relationship with Maddelena, although his tone of voice didn’t make it sound likely.

Anyway, it was none of her business. Her fleeting connection with the man would be over as soon as she found some way of returning to her hotel.

‘Do you have a car, or may I give you a lift somewhere?’ he asked suddenly, almost as if he’d been reading her mind. ‘I will be free as soon as I’ve visited my son.’

She hesitated, torn between the strange feeling that she should get as far away from this man as possible and the equally strong desire to spend just a little longer in his company. In the end, practicality tipped the balance.

‘I would be grateful for a lift,’ she replied, equally politely. ‘I travelled here with Taddeo, so my car is miles away.’

‘After your actions today, it is the least I can do,’ he said sincerely and gestured towards the bank of lifts. She found herself automatically falling into step beside him as he made his way towards the paediatric department.

Taddeo was almost asleep by the time they reached his bedside, and apparently completely unconcerned by the fact that he was in hospital. He seemed far more interested in quizzing his father about a promised outing.

‘Dormire,’ murmured his father patiently as he smoothed a soothing hand over tousled dark hair.

Lissa watched, entranced, as he tried to persuade little Taddeo to go to sleep. He was such a very masculine man and yet he was so gentle with his young son.

The two of them were so similar that she would have known that they were father and son without being told. They both had the same dark brown eyes fringed by impossibly long lashes and the same dark hair prone to unruly curls.

Their skin was the same dark golden colour, and Taddeo would probably one day sport the same dark shadow of an emerging beard that she could see on his father’s jaw.

Even the shape of the jaw was similar, lean and slightly angular for all that the child was so much younger, and they both possessed the same knack of smiling with their eyes as well as their mouths.

Her eyes were travelling from one to the other, silently comparing and contrasting while she watched the interaction between father and son. Finally, one set of dark lashes drooped for the last time and a gentle kiss was pressed to a tousled head.

The sight of the man’s lean tanned fingers sent a shaft of something close to jealousy through Lissa when she saw how tenderly they cupped the curve of Taddeo’s little cheek, and she was startled by the unexpected feeling.

This isn’t what you want, she reminded herself sharply as she took a step backwards from the loving scene. Don’t let your guard down if you want to protect your heart. Don’t get involved, no matter how enticing the temptation.

‘Have you lived in Italy very long?’ he asked when they were finally on their way.

Lissa gave a silent sigh of relief at the thought that she wasn’t going to have to try to start a conversation. At least he was willing to make the effort.

‘Actually, it’s my first visit,’ she admitted. ‘I’ve been wanting to come for years…all my life, in fact.’

‘So this is why you have learned to speak Italian?’ he demanded, reverting to his own tongue but speaking rather slower than usual to accommodate her. ‘In the hope that one day you would be able to visit?’

Lissa laughed and took his lead, switching to her slightly rusty Italian. ‘Not quite. I learned to speak Italian so that I could talk to my grandmother. When I was small, I thought Nonna couldn’t understand English. It was years before I realised that she didn’t miss a thing in either language!’

He laughed with her. ‘So this is just a brief holiday, to get a taste of Italy?’ he suggested.

She’d given him the name of her hotel before they’d set off, so Lissa could see how he would have come to that conclusion.

‘Partly,’ she agreed, ‘but also to explore this part of the country because it was the area Nonna’s family came from.’

‘So, you’re going to have a very busy week sightseeing. It was lucky for Taddeo that you had a few minutes spare to visit the beach. If you hadn’t been there…’

‘Then someone else would have taken care of him,’ she said, slightly uncomfortable with the open emotion in his voice at the thought of his son’s accident. ‘You know how much Italian people love children. Those people offered to help me get him off the beach and transport him to hospital without hesitation, lending towels, belts and even that surfboard to protect his back.’

‘Even so, I thank you…’ He paused with a frown and concentrated for a second on parking his car in front of the hotel then turned to face her. ‘How can I thank you properly if I can’t even remember the name in your passport?’ He held out his hand. ‘I am Matteo Aldarini, at your service and for ever in your debt.’

‘Melissa Swift,’ Lissa supplied, along with her hand, disappointed but not surprised that her name hadn’t registered in the heat of the moment.

‘Melissa. Sweet as honey,’ he murmured as he wrapped long fingers around hers.

Suddenly she was aware that the two of them were alone in the intimacy of the darkened car and all she could think of was the contact between their palms and his dark eyes looking down into hers.

CHAPTER TWO

MATTEO’S hand felt warm and strong, but the strength was carefully tempered…unlike some men Lissa knew who took a delight in grinding her bones together in a show of masculine power.

She’d only met the man a short while ago under the most stressful of conditions but she had a feeling that he would never need to resort to such petty tricks to prove his masculinity.

But it was his eyes that held her captivated, their dark brown depths almost black in the shadowed interior of the car as he gazed at her.

‘Today was a dreadful day after a dreadful night,’ he murmured, his words taking on a distracted air. ‘You might have heard that one of the local hotels has apparently had an outbreak of food poisoning. Some patients were coming to us so sick that they were already dehydrated, but as fast as we found beds for them and put fluids into them, more people arrived.’

He shook his head with a soft groan and dropped it back against the headrest but instead of releasing her hand, he tightened his fingers around hers, almost as if he needed the contact.

‘I was still trying to organise the last group and waiting for the victims of a car crash to arrive,’ he continued with the suspicion of a smile at the corner of his mouth, ‘when a bossy woman in a swimming costume carried my unconscious son into the hospital and started to tell me my job.’

‘I didn’t!’ she objected automatically, not sure that she liked the idea that he thought she was bossy.

The fact that he’d noticed what she’d been wearing was a different matter and his mention of it brought a swift wash of heat to her cheeks.

At least he couldn’t still see her costume. It was well hidden under the oversized white coat he’d found for her. For all that it was summer in Italy, by this time of night she could have been feeling rather chilly, not to say embarrassed, running around in beachwear.

‘Well…thank you for giving me a lift.’ She hurried into speech, suddenly realising that he was probably waiting for her to remember her manners. She tried to pull her hand away but he was apparently as reluctant to release her as she was to be released.

‘I would like to see you again,’ he said in a husky voice, and her heart gave a silly skip. Had he been affected by the same feeling of attraction, unwelcome though it was?

‘Of course, it will depend on the situation at the hospital,’ he continued apologetically. ‘We are really far too small to deal with large outbreaks of anything major. In spite of the holidaymakers, for half of the year this is just a quiet little town, but I would like the chance to thank you for taking care of Taddeo.’

She was still lecturing herself for her presumption as she let herself into her room.

‘Of course he was only suggesting taking you out as a thank you for helping his son,’ she scolded as she stripped off the baggy white coat and made her way to the shower. ‘Do you really think a man like that would be hard up for company? He’s hardly the type to be interested in short-term relationships with summer visitors—not like those lads on the beach.’

She’d tried to save face by telling him that thanks weren’t necessary but he’d been adamant. In the end, they’d left it that he would contact her when his work permitted.

Silently, she had decided that she would be ‘too busy’ to take him up on the invitation. He was an attractive and clearly very intelligent man and she would probably have thoroughly enjoyed spending an evening with him. Except…her reaction to the idea that he might be interested in her was ringing warning bells inside her head, reminding her that the last thing she wanted while she was in Italy was to get involved in a relationship…even a very short-term one.

She’d intended staying under the shower until she was utterly waterlogged but a few minutes later she was out and towelling her hair dry, too restless to unwind even under the steaming spray.

The evening was still relatively young by Italian standards, but she didn’t really know what she wanted to do.

The idea of going out to a restaurant by herself didn’t appeal somehow, and neither did dancing at the disco at the hotel at the other end of the parade. She’d stuck her head around the door last night and realised that she would probably be one of the oldest women in the room. Their average age seemed to be little more than eighteen, and as for the music…

Lissa sighed then grimaced, remembering the days when her parents used to complain about her own choice of music. Did this mean that she was rapidly becoming middle-aged at only twenty-eight years of age?

She pulled on some lightweight trousers and a cotton top then reached for the phone, resigned to the idea of room service and a book. It wouldn’t do her any harm to have an early night after all the excitement of the day. She could start her holiday afresh tomorrow and hopefully be in a better frame of mind for it.

‘Here we are again,’ Lissa muttered as she flopped back on her towel, her sunglasses firmly in position.

It was actually two days since Taddeo’s accident, but everything around her looked and sounded exactly the same…even the ice-cream van playing ‘Greensleeves’.

It wasn’t that the accident had put her off the idea of spending time on the beach; she hadn’t been particularly keen in the first place. In fact, she’d picked up some of the literature supplied in her room that detailed the various local attractions, and had spent the intervening time exploring a little.

The trouble was, finding the village where her grandmother had grown up wasn’t nearly as satisfying without someone to share it with. Nor was her enjoyment of a particularly stunning view or the series of ancient frescos she’d discovered in a tiny church.

If all had gone as she’d expected, there should have been two of them spending their days, and their nights, together.

‘Sightseeing on my own was a bit of a washout,’ she muttered under her breath as she put the bottle of sunscreen away in her bag. ‘Perhaps I’ll have a bit more luck getting into the holiday mood with all these happy people all around me.’

She rolled over onto her stomach and propped her chin on her folded arms while she gazed around.

‘It’s uncanny,’ she murmured as her eyes went from one group to another. ‘It’s almost as if the world has stood still since I was here the first time. Absolutely nothing has changed while I’ve been away.’

There were the same family groups, the same honeymooners still besotted with each other, the same group of predatory young men eyeing the scantily clad girls giggling their way across the beach.

‘No. Something has changed!’ she exclaimed under her breath in mock surprise when she heard the accents of the target of the young men’s comments. ‘They’re after new prey today—Scandinavian, perhaps?’

She wondered idly what had happened to the group of English girls being pursued last time she was here. Had they succumbed to the false smiles and well-practised lines, or had they seen through them in time?

‘Signorina?’ said a voice nearby. ‘Mi scusi. Sei medica?’

Lissa groaned silently as she rolled over and sat up. That was all she needed…another medical problem on a beach this far from proper hospital facilities. It must be someone who had recognised her from the other day.

She looked up at the young woman standing in front of her and suddenly realised that she recognised her.

‘Maddelena!’ she exclaimed, rising to her feet and finding herself wrapped in a fervent hug. ‘How is Taddeo? Is he well?’

‘Si. He is well. We have brought him back to the beach with the whole family so that he will have good memories. Come and see.’ She grabbed Lissa’s hand and gestured towards the other side of the beach. ‘He is over there with my mother. Come. You must join us.’

Lissa paused just long enough to grab her belongings then threaded her way through the various groups of holidaymakers towards an older woman waving a welcoming hand.

Introductions were made and Lissa found herself once more enveloped in an enthusiastic embrace.

‘What would we have done if you hadn’t been here to take care of our Taddeo?’ Maddelena’s mother exclaimed. ‘How can we thank you enough?’

Lissa tried to downplay her contribution, but she wasn’t having it.

‘No, no! We think you’re a heroine!’ she exclaimed, gesturing towards the rest of the family for confirmation. ‘Please…sit. Join us!’

It wasn’t long before they were also trying to bully her into joining them for some fast and furious games on the beach. Maddelena’s brothers and sisters and cousins were numerous enough to form two complete opposing teams.

With Taddeo only recently released from hospital, it was inadvisable for him to be involved in quite that much rough and tumble, so Lissa opted for keeping Taddeo occupied with Maddelena’s mother.

Soon enough the whole family rejoined them on the array of blankets and deck-chairs for the most sumptuous of picnics and a lazy hour of recuperation while she was regaled with numerous tales of family misdeeds and successes.

It was no hardship to listen when she realised just how often Matteo Aldarini’s name was included, in spite of the fact that he wasn’t actually a member of the family.

‘That’s my daddy,’ Taddeo had announced proudly the first time it had happened and she’d smiled at him. She’d been quite surprised to find out that although the youngster couldn’t remember much of the accident, he seemed to remember her quite clearly from her visit to his bedside in the paediatric ward.

‘He told me you carried me to his hospital on a surfboard when I hit my head,’ Taddeo continued, chattering so brightly that it was obvious that he’d suffered few after-effects from his mishap. ‘I fell on those rocks.’ He pointed at the wicked piles of broken limestone that could so easily have been the cause of his death.

Unfortunately, the sparkle in his eyes suggested that he was the sort of daredevil child whose accident wouldn’t put him off the next reckless challenge.

‘Who’s going swimming?’ demanded one of the cousins and there was a noisy response as everyone erupted from their lazy relaxation.

‘Will you swim with me?’ Taddeo demanded with a grin. ‘I’m good. I bet I can race you.’

A quick glance at Maddelena confirmed that he’d been cleared to swim.

‘I’ll look after him,’ Lissa promised and they were off across the beach at a run.

He launched himself into the waves with a shriek almost as soon as the water came up to his knees and it was soon obvious that his words hadn’t been an idle boast. He wouldn’t have to be able to swim much faster before he could beat her, legitimately. She’d only had to shorten her stroke slightly to allow him to pull ahead of her.

‘You swim like a fish!’ she exclaimed when they came up for air at the float anchored a little way out from shore. ‘How old were you when you learned?’

‘My daddy took me in the sea when I was just a baby. Only one year old. He said I was like a baby frog.’

‘Taddeo the tadpole,’ she said in English and chuckled, remembering that ‘Taddy’ was the nickname her mother had called her when she’d been learning to swim.

‘What is a tadpole?’ he demanded. She racked her brain for a moment but couldn’t remember the Italian word although she was sure her grandmother must have taught her once upon a time.

‘I’ll tell you when we go back on the beach,’ she promised, knowing that there was a dictionary in her bag. ‘Are you going to race me back? I need to practise.’

She could see that several of the younger members of the family had started to build an ambitious sand castle and thought that would probably be better for the youngster than too much swimming. At least he would be no more than a few steps from the blankets if he grew tired.

Not that he seemed lacking in energy as he ploughed his way through the water beside her.

Lissa was watching him so closely that she didn’t see another figure approaching so that when the water burst into a fountain beside her 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. Perhaps he wouldn’t see the heat in her cheeks that betrayed just how much he was affecting her.

The meal was everything she could have wished, and more.

How could she fail to enjoy an evening spent in the company of such an attentive host? From the moment they were shown to their secluded table and he held her chair for her everything was so perfect it was almost a fantasy.

It didn’t matter that she’d sworn never to be swayed by externals again. She’d already had her trust broken that way once.

But somehow this was different. The surroundings, the food, the music…everything was wonderful, but it all paled into insignificance before the man beside her.

His conversation was witty and erudite and not only did he take the time to ask her questions about herself, he actually listened to her answers with obvious interest.

It had been so long since that had happened that she felt herself relaxing and opening up like some rare flower under the warmth of his regard.

All too soon their meal was over and he was ushering her out into the starry darkness.

He could have wrapped an arm around her shoulders, making the excuse that the evening air might seem chill after the warmth of the restaurant. To her disappointment he seemed perfectly content to walk beside her, their only contact her hand on his arm.

He paused as they neared her hotel, just a few minutes farther along the sea front.

‘Is it too late for you to take a walk with me?’ he asked quietly with a gesture towards the beach beside them, and she had to suppress the urge to shout her agreement. She certainly wasn’t ready for their evening to end just yet.

He must have taken her hesitation for uncertainty.

‘Of course, if you’d rather I took you straight back to your hotel…’

‘No!’ she exclaimed, then added hastily, ‘No, a walk would be nice after all that food. I wouldn’t be able to sleep yet.’

He turned towards the nearest path that led in a shallow zigzag down to the sand.

It was hard to believe that it was the same busy, noisy place that she’d visited earlier that day.

By night it was all but silent and deserted, only nature providing the sounds.

At the end of the zigzag he stopped to slip off his shoes and socks and roll up his trouser legs.

‘Shall I help you?’ He crouched in front of her and wrapped warm fingers around one ankle.

She braced a hand on his shoulder and slipped each sandal off in turn, glad that she’d decided to go barelegged tonight. It wouldn’t have fitted into the moonlit fantasy to have to struggle to remove tights or stockings in front of him.

‘We can leave our shoes here,’ he suggested, placing both pairs in a patch of dark shadow beside some rocks and folding his jacket on top of them before he straightened up again and held out a silent hand.

In unspoken agreement they turned towards the water and walked until their feet found the hard-packed sand before they changed direction to follow the edge of the waves.

The sea was calm tonight, far calmer than her turbulent thoughts. Inside her head an argument was raging, with one part of her longing to spend more time with this fascinating charismatic man, while the other urged her to keep her vow of caution and restraint.

There was no argument about the fact that she was regretting that their evening together was nearly over.

They’d walked all the way to the rocks at the far end of the beach before he paused beside her to stare out over the sea. Without a word being spoken they stood side by side, the breeze gently fluttering hair and clothing, and she was aware of a strange feeling of contentment.

‘I wasn’t ready for the evening to end,’ he said quietly, finally breaking the silence. ‘I hope you don’t mind.’

Lissa was so startled to hear him voice her own feelings that she wasn’t quick enough to keep a check on her tongue.

‘Neither was I,’ she admitted fervently, then could have kicked herself. What on earth was wrong with her? Over the last few weeks she thought she’d become adept at hiding her thoughts and feelings from others. Surely an evening in his company wasn’t enough for her to lose that hard-won control. She’d really hoped that she’d learned not to reveal her thoughts so impetuously.

How humiliating to lapse now, she groaned silently, turning her face away. And he was probably only being his usual polite self, telling her what he thought she wanted to hear…

‘Ah, Melissa, it’s more than that!’ he exclaimed, breaking into her scrambled thoughts as he turned her back to face him. ‘Tell me that you feel it, too—this crazy attraction between us.’

He captured each of her hands in his and pressed them against the soft cotton covering his chest.

She was so overwhelmed by his unexpected exclamation and so aware of the warmth of his body and the rhythmic beat of his heart that she almost missed his next words.

‘Do you not know that ever since I saw you standing there in the hospital, all long bare legs and big dark eyes, you have filled my mind…my thoughts.’ He brought her hands up to his lips and pressed a kiss to each.

Lissa was lost for words, her own heart beating so loudly that she was sure he must be able to hear it over the sound of the sea.

‘But this is so crazy,’ he continued, his tone almost one of exasperation. ‘We’re not teenagers to be overtaken by lust in the blink of an eye. We’re both responsible professional people. This can’t be real.’

‘You’re right. It is crazy,’ she said, trying to hang on to logic in the face of almost overwhelming temptation. How was she supposed to resist when he was looking at her like that?

‘Matt, we only met a few days ago and under the most fraught conditions.’ She tried to pull her hands free but he wouldn’t release her, forcing her to stay close enough to breathe in the musky warmth of his body. It certainly didn’t help as she tried to put her thoughts into words.

‘I’m just a visitor here,’ she continued, trying to be logical. ‘And I certainly didn’t come here looking for a holiday fling.’ Ah, but the thought of it was so beguiling. For the first time, she could almost identify with those groups of girls she’d been watching.

‘I never thought it for a moment,’ he agreed gently. ‘I’ve seen the young men lurking on the beach and in the square. It’s probably the same in the discos and nightclubs, although it’s years since I last bothered to go.’

It was almost uncanny how closely his thoughts had mirrored her own and when the silence grew between them she somehow knew that he was wondering where they went from here, too. He was still holding her hands against his chest and she drew comfort from the fact that he hadn’t released her.

‘Can we be friends?’ she suggested quietly, but without much hope that he would agree. He was such a strong, decisive sort of man, so vibrant, that she was afraid he wouldn’t be interested in half-measures like friendship.

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