Uncovering a sizzling attraction...

Burned in love, Dr. Matteo Di Salvo knows he should stay away from single mother Rose Palmer. But as he gets to know the beautiful English archaeologist, he longs to chase the shadows from her eyes...

Rose is drawn to the handsome radiologist, though after her disastrous marriage, getting emotionally entangled is out of the question! But as the sun-drenched island of Sicily works its magic, she wonders if she’s finally found a man she can trust...with her heart and her son.

‘Is that all you have to say?’

‘No.’

This time he kissed her. And Matteo did it properly—taking her in his arms and letting her feel the heat build, stopping just a whisper away from her lips until they opened in a tremulous gasp. Then he took everything that she offered and made it his.

Another first. He didn’t remember ever having felt quite so lost before. So aware of his own strength and yet so conquered by hers. He made it last for as long as he could, and when finally they both had to breathe again he kept her locked in his gaze.

‘This doesn’t have to be like the last time, Rose. You don’t have to keep this away from everyone.’

‘You don’t understand…’

‘Then tell me.’

Dear Reader,

I’ve long wanted to have an archaeologist hero or heroine. My own love of digging started early. Beaches, fields, gardens… You name it, they were all subject to my scrutiny in the hope that the earth might give up buried treasure in the form of fossils, crystals or—best of all—an old coin. I never did find very much, but that didn’t stop me. And when I deconstructed the crazy paving in my aunt’s garden I was just as enthusiastic about my punishment—which was to put it all back together again, in the right order—as I was about the crime. Years later I did a subsidiary course in archaeology at university, but it turned out that I was more interested in reading than digging—although at the time it was a close call.

So I was interested to read that archaeologists have, in the past, used hospital CT scanning equipment on an out-of-hours basis. As an archaeologist Rose does very different work from Matteo, who is an interventional radiologist, but some of the tools and skills that they use are very alike. Working together gives these two very different people a chance to get to know and love each other.

Thank you for reading Rose and Matteo’s story. I’m always thrilled to hear from readers, and you can contact me via my website at annieclaydon.com.

Annie x

English Rose for the Sicilian Doc

Annie Claydon

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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Cursed with a poor sense of direction and a propensity to read, ANNIE CLAYDON spent much of her childhood lost in books. A degree in English Literature followed by a career in computing didn’t lead directly to her perfect job—writing romance for Mills & Boon—but she has no regrets in taking the scenic route. She lives in London: a city where getting lost can be a joy.

Books by Annie Claydon

Mills & Boon Medical Romance

Stranded in His Arms

Rescued by Dr Rafe

Saved by the Single Dad

Daring to Date Her Ex

The Doctor She’d Never Forget

Discovering Dr Riley

The Doctor’s Diamond Proposal

Visit the Author Profile page at millsandboon.co.uk for more titles.

To teachers everywhere. Amongst them, my mother, who taught me how to read, and my old Latin teacher, who told me that one day I’d be glad I’d learned how to conjugate a Latin verb. Writing this book has finally proved him right.

Praise for Annie Claydon

‘A compelling, emotional and highly poignant read that I couldn’t bear to put down. Rich in pathos, humour and dramatic intensity, it’s a spellbinding tale about healing old wounds, having the courage to listen to your heart and the power of love that kept me enthralled from beginning to end.’

—Goodreads on

Once Upon a Christmas Night…

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Dear Reader

Title Page

About the Author

Praise

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

EPILOGUE

Extract

Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

THE BUILDING SHONE white in the sunshine, a line of tall palm trees announcing that this was a place of some importance. Rose Palmer gripped her son’s hand, walking through the wide entrance doors and into a spacious reception area, refreshingly cool after the heat of the afternoon.

A building like this showed intent. Any archaeologist would tell you that buildings gave an insight into what a community thought was important, and Rose was no exception. The high ceilings and clean lines were a clear statement that the work that went on here was both vital and serious.

She hung on tight to William’s hand, for fear of losing him in amongst the melee of people who criss-crossed the space. She couldn’t see a reception desk, and she supposed the best thing to do was to ask someone. Easier said than done. Everyone seemed too intent on getting wherever they were going to stop and give directions.

‘Scusi...’ A woman in a white top that bore the insignia of the hospital stopped, and smilingly asked her something in Italian. Hopefully she wasn’t in need of directions too.

‘Inglese.’ Rose proffered the piece of paper that her friend Elena had given her, with details of William’s appointment, written in Italian.

‘Ah. Sì...’ The woman scanned the paper and shot a brilliant smile at William. Rose was getting used to the way that Sicilians always reserved their brightest smiles for young children, and so was her son. William reached up, and the woman took his small hand in hers.

‘Terzo piano...’ The woman gestured towards the lift and then thought better of it. Taking a pen from her pocket, she walked over to a water dispenser, leaning on the side of it to draw on the paper, smiling at William as she did so. Then she proffered the hand-drawn map, holding up her thumb and two fingers and pointing to the lift to indicate that Rose should go to the third floor.

Third floor, turn right and then the second on the left. She got it. Rose nodded and smiled and thanked the woman falteringly in Italian. William waved goodbye, and the woman responded cheerily, watching her all the way to the lift.

Upstairs, the corridors were less grand and more utilitarian. Rose followed her map, and found herself in a small, comfortable waiting room. A receptionist scanned her written directions and waved her towards the rows of chairs, before picking up her phone.

Rose made her way to the far corner, and sat down. She would rather have flown back to England to do this, but Elena and her husband would have none of it. All of the visiting archaeologists working at the dig were covered by private health insurance and this hospital was one of the best in the world. They would make the appointment for her and request a translator, and William would be in good hands. She was a guest on the island and anything less would be considered as a lapse in hospitality.

And the one thing that Rose had learned very quickly was that you faulted Sicilian hospitality at your peril. So she’d accepted the offer and driven here, privately deciding that if the language barrier turned out to be more than she or William could cope with, she’d find an excuse to be on the first plane back home for a couple of days.

Someone laughed, and Rose looked up to see a man chatting with the receptionist. Her face was animated, smiling up at him in the way that women did when someone they liked also happened to be breath-catchingly handsome.

And even by the rigorous standards of the island this man was handsome. Straight, dark hair, grazing his collar. Smooth olive skin, high cheekbones and lips that were meant to smile. Rose couldn’t see his eyes, but she imagined them chocolate brown.

Only a man so immaculate could have got away with that jacket. Dark cream, obviously linen—on anyone less perfect it would have looked rumpled. But on him it seemed as if every crease had been carefully chosen and styled, to make the most of his broad shoulders and the slim lines of his hips.

Suddenly he turned, looking straight at her. His eyes were brown. Dark, seventy per cent cocoa, with a hint of bite. Rose dropped her gaze, embarrassed to be caught staring.

‘Mrs Palmer?’ He’d walked over and dropped into a chair opposite her. His voice was like chocolate, too.

‘Ms Palmer.’ It was a convenient halfway house for a single woman with a child. ‘Um... Parla Inglese?’

He grinned and Rose felt her ears start to burn. ‘Yes, I speak English. I’m Matteo Di Salvo, and I’m here to translate for Dr Garfagnini. He’s the paediatric specialist who’ll be seeing William today.’

Perfect. His English was clear and almost unaccented, although the slight difference in tempo made it sound seductive. Or perhaps that was just the way he spoke. Seductive just about summed him up.

Rose took a breath, trying to concentrate on the practicalities. ‘Thank you. You’re the interpreter here?’

‘No, I’m a doctor. Our interpreter is busy with some English tourists in the emergency department...’ He gave a shrug, which indicated that the matter shouldn’t be given a second thought. ‘Dr Garfagnini is running a few minutes late, and I wondered if I might take the opportunity to get to know William a little.’

Handsome and kind. And he spoke English. This man was a bit too good to be true.

‘Thank you so much, Dr Di Salvo. I appreciate it.’ Rose remembered that a handshake was usual in these circumstances and held out her hand.

‘Matteo, please...’ The caress of his fingers was just as alluring as the rest of him.

‘Rose.’ She snatched her hand from his, feeling her cheeks burn, and curled her arm around her son.

‘Ciao.’ William had learned a few words of Italian in the last three weeks, and had also learned that they were usually greeted with approval. Matteo was no exception to the rule.

‘Ciao, William.’ He held out his hand, and William took it, staring up at him. ‘Your Italian is very good. Molto bene.’

‘Molto bene...’ William parroted the words and then decided to return the compliment. ‘Your English is very good.’

Rose quirked her lips, ready to apologise for William, but it seemed it wasn’t necessary. Matteo smiled and nodded.

‘Thank you. I used to live in London.’

‘I live in London!’ William crowed with delight.

‘Do you? What football team do you support?’

‘Tufnell Park Cheetahs. They’re the best.’

No one had heard of the Tufnell Park Cheetahs other than the handful of supporters who turned up on a Sunday morning to watch them play in the local park, but all the same Matteo nodded as if he approved wholeheartedly of the choice.

‘And how old are you?’ It was impossible to tell whether Matteo’s questions were just to pass the time, or whether he was testing her son in some way. Rose suspected it was a bit of both.

William counted on his fingers. ‘Uno, due, tre...four. And four days.’

Matteo nodded. ‘Quattro. E quattro giorni.’

He listened while William repeated the words and smiled. ‘Molto bene. What does that mean, William?’

‘It means very good.’

There was nothing wrong with William’s memory, or his use of language. He was a bright child, and had none of Rose’s inhibitions about speaking Italian whenever he got the chance. It was the way he’d been behaving in the three weeks since they’d come here that worried Rose.

The last of the other families had been ushered out of the reception area, and the receptionist came out from behind her desk, picking up the toys that lay scattered around the room and tidying them away into a box in the corner.

‘You can choose something from the box if you’d like.’ Matteo pointed towards the toy box. Rose wondered if this was another test, but if it was, it was done deftly enough to make it seem like a game to William, who ran over to the box, stopping short a couple of feet away from it. The receptionist smiled, reaching in and offering a toy car, and William took it from her.

‘Why have you brought him here today?’ Matteo turned to her.

Rose reached for her bag. ‘My friend wrote it down for me in Italian. It’s not easy to quantify...’

‘Thank you. But I’d rather hear it in your own words first.’ He took the paper that she handed him but didn’t look at it. ‘Your instincts, as a mother, are something we take seriously.’

Another hurdle that seemed to have just melted away in the heat of his dark gaze. ‘He can see, but doesn’t seem to understand what he sees sometimes. Which is odd, because he’s so bright usually.’

‘And this has started happening recently?’

‘I’ve noticed it over the last three weeks, since we’ve been here in Sicily. I’m worried that he might have hit his head without my knowing, or even that it’s something to do with the flight.’

Matteo flipped his gaze to the paper, scanning it. ‘And his behaviour?’

‘He gets very frustrated when he makes silly mistakes about things, but in general he seems happy.’

‘And this is something new? Or could it be that being in an unfamiliar environment has made a long-standing difficulty more apparent?’

‘I can’t really say. I’ve only just noticed it.’ Rose tried to ignore the familiar tug of guilt. It wasn’t helpful and Matteo was just exploring all the possibilities.

‘Where are you staying? Are you working here, or on holiday?’ Matteo seemed to be watching William out of the corner of his eye. He was playing happily with the receptionist, racing toy cars across her desk.

‘I’m an archaeologist, and I’m here to work on a project. One of my Italian colleagues has rented a large house here in Palermo and I share it with him and his family. His wife, Elena, looks after William and her own children while I’m at work.’

‘You’re a single parent?’

‘Yes.’ Rose squeezed her hands together. She tried her best, but she knew that she couldn’t give William all the attention he needed. Being found lacking in this man’s eyes was unexpectedly difficult.

‘How is he with his food? I imagine he’s come across some new things here.’

‘Yes. He’s always been cautious about his food, but now he won’t eat anything unless he’s smelled it and dipped his fingers in it. I get him to try something and he likes it, but then the next time he doesn’t seem to recognise it, and he does the same thing all over again.’

Matteo was nodding slowly, as if some of this made sense to him. But he didn’t seem inclined to share any of his thoughts with Rose just yet. He excused himself and strolled over to the receptionist’s desk, joining in the game with the toy cars. Not content with just driving them across the desk, he and William lined them up in rows, and started on what looked like a fair representation of a demolition derby.

One of the cars spun up into the air, and Matteo caught it deftly, just before it smashed into the receptionist’s coffee cup. The woman rolled her eyes in Rose’s direction, her meaning clear, and Matteo gave her a sheepish look. A laughing retort in Italian made it quite clear that the gorgeous Dr Di Salvo could do no wrong around here.

‘Your conclusions...?’ Matteo had sauntered back over, but there was no doubt in Rose’s mind that he must have some.

He shrugged. ‘Just passing the time. Until Dr Garfagnini is ready to see William.’

Okay. If that was the way he wanted it. Rose supposed that diagnosing another doctor’s patient in the waiting room was probably frowned on wherever you happened to be in the world. ‘Okay. I’ll wait. In the meantime, could you say the doctor’s name a little slower for me, please? I don’t want to mispronounce it.’

* * *

Whatever her name, she was a rose. Smooth, creamy skin and brilliant blue eyes. Fair, shoulder-length hair, which slid out from behind her ear every now and then before she tucked it back. Matteo wanted to touch her, to feel the silky texture of her skin and her hair.

And she was clearly worried about her son. She was working hard to give the impression that she was telling him everything, but the tremor behind her polite smile told Matteo that she was leaving something out. Maybe that something was relevant, and maybe not.

And maybe he wasn’t being fair. She didn’t speak any more than a couple of words of Italian, and anyone would be stressed, bringing a child to the hospital in these circumstances. Child psychology, or parent psychology for that matter, wasn’t his speciality, and he should leave that to Dr Garfagnini.

‘Where are you working?’ He sat down, leaving an empty chair between the two of them.

‘It’s a joint project between three universities, my own in London, one in Rome and one here. We’re excavating a site up in the hills.’

She looked altogether too fragrant to be tramping around in the hills, digging for artefacts. Her skin seemed untouched by the sun, her hands small and soft. Maybe she was in the habit of wearing a hat and gloves.

‘What’s your speciality?’

‘I’m an osteologist.’

‘So our interests overlap.’ It was pleasing to find a point of connection with her.

She nodded. ‘I tend to deal with older bones that you would generally come across, although I have done some forensic osteology.’

‘That’s difficult work.’ Forensic osteologists worked with more recent history, war graves and crime scenes.

‘Yes. It can be.’ She took a breath, as if she was about to say more, but lapsed into silence. Matteo decided not to push it.

‘You must be very good at what you do.’ Sicily’s rich history, and the many archaeological sites on the island, meant that it was unusual for any particular expertise to be needed from elsewhere.

She smiled suddenly. A real smile, one that betrayed a bit of fire. ‘Yes. I am.’

‘And you teach mainly?’

‘What makes you say that?’

‘Your hands.’

She smiled again. This time a touch of sensuality, all the more heady since it seemed to be kept strictly under wraps most of the time.

‘You’re very observant. I wear gloves when I dig. And, yes, I also teach.’ William had been running back and forth as they talked, depositing toy cars in her lap, and she started to gather them up.

Matteo watched her as she walked to the toy box, stacking the cars carefully back in their proper place. He might not be responsible for William’s diagnosis but he’d already made a few observations that might be of assistance to Dr Garfagnini.

Admittedly, watching the way her skirt swirled around her legs, noting the smooth curve of the fabric around the bust and tracing his gaze along her bare arms wasn’t the kind of observation that was necessary for a diagnosis of anything other than his own appreciation of a beautiful woman. But thinking that she was beautiful was about as far as Matteo was prepared to go.

Her son was a patient at the hospital where he was a doctor. That might change, but it would make no difference. Matteo had loved a woman with children once before. There was no changing the damage he’d caused then and no woman, however beautiful, could change the way he felt about it now. If he wanted to be able to sleep at night, he wouldn’t lay one finger on Rose’s perfect, porcelain skin.

* * *

Dr Garfagnini was a small, middle-aged man with a kind face. He appeared in the entrance to the reception area, beckoning to Matteo, and Rose caught William’s hand, her heart beating a little faster. Maybe this was some long-standing issue that had somehow escaped her notice. That verdict on her failings as a mother would be a lot easier to take coming from the older man’s lips, and Rose almost wished she didn’t need Matteo to translate.

Introductions were made and they were seated in easy chairs set around a large, low table in Dr Garfagnini’s bright, airy consulting room. William was given crayons and paper, and Dr Garfagnini pushed an upholstered stool up next to the table for him. Coffee was brought in, and Matteo waved it away, prompting a laugh and a joking observation from Dr Garfagnini.

‘He says I’m a coffee snob. That takes some dedication on this island.’ Matteo seemed to be trying to put her at ease. ‘Now, I’m going to fill Dr Garfagnini in on what you’ve already said to me, and then I’m sure he’ll have some questions...’

There were many questions, and at times it seemed that Matteo’s translations of her answers were a little longer than the original. Rose battled against the rising anxiety, and finally she snapped.

‘Please. Will you tell me what you just said to him? I need to know what’s going on.’

‘Of course. I’m sorry. I was mentioning what happened in the waiting room.’

‘What did happen in the waiting room?’ Rose pressed her lips together, aware that William had looked up from the blue and brown smudges that he was drawing. It would be a little more to the point if Matteo directed his colleague’s attention to those.

‘We played with cars.’ William provided the answer, and Matteo nodded, grinning broadly at him. His relaxed attitude seemed to reassure William that all was well, and he went back to his drawing.

Matteo turned to Rose. ‘Dr Garfagnini would like to test him for colour-blindness.’

‘Colour-blindness?’ How could she not have noticed something like that? Rose reached for her coffee and realised she’d already finished it. The empty cup rattled in the saucer as she put it back onto the table. The game had been a test after all.

‘It’s not going to distress him in any way.’ Matteo’s brown eyes were melting with concern.

‘No. I’m sorry, please, go ahead.’ She wanted to grab William and hug him. Tell him she was sorry that she hadn’t thought of this. That she’d allowed him to be confused by the world around him, without it even occurring to her that he might not see it as she did.

She watched numbly as Dr Garfagnini produced a set of Ishihara plates. These were obviously made for children, the blotches forming squares, triangles and circles, rather than numbers. Matteo explained what he wanted William to do, making it all seem like a game to him. Rose watched in horror as her son failed to pick out the shapes in almost a third of the pictures.

Then there were more games, all centred around colour. Matteo was pretending to make mistakes, some of which William gleefully corrected, and others that he didn’t notice. Then an examination of William’s eyes, and finally Dr Garfagnini nodded and spoke to Matteo in Italian.

‘What did he say?’ Rose tried to keep the tremor from her voice, for William’s sake.

‘In his opinion, your son is colour-blind. It’s an inherited condition, and there’s no cure or medication for it. It’s just the way he perceives the world...’ Matteo broke off as a tear rolled down Rose’s cheek and she swiped it away. Why couldn’t he just have pretended he hadn’t noticed?

‘Your son is healthy.’ His dark eyes searched her face, as if looking for some clue as to the source of the tear.

‘Yes. Thank you.’ She turned to Dr Garfagnini, ‘Grazie.’

She had to pull herself together. It was unforgivable to react like this in front of William and the doctors who had been so kind. She could do the guilt and the soul-searching later, in private. Rose straightened her shoulders, blinking back any further tears that might be thinking about betraying her.

An exchange in Italian, and Matteo nodded, turning to Rose. ‘Dr Garfagnini has an evening appointment and needs to leave soon, but he’s suggested that I might be able to give you some practical insights, if you have some time to stay and talk.’

‘But...what kind of doctor are you?’ Maybe Matteo’s speciality had something to do with her son’s condition.

Matteo gave her that relaxed, seductive smile that seemed to burn through everything else. ‘I’m an interventional radiologist. And red-green colour-blind, like your son.’

CHAPTER TWO

MATTEO KNEW THAT any parent, given the news that their child wasn’t perfect, was likely to react. But most people’s reaction to his own colour-blindness was to ask how he managed to match his clothes in the morning and leave it at that. There was more to it, but Rose couldn’t have looked any more horrified if he’d told her that the end of the world was expected some time during the next ten minutes.

She’d regained her composure quickly, though, thanking both him and Dr Garfagnini and giving them both a polite smile. But that unguarded moment had piqued Matteo’s curiosity. Dr Garfagnini had seen it too, and it had prompted him to ask Matteo to talk to her now.

‘You’ll have to forgive me.’ She was strolling next to him through the hospital and down to his office. ‘I don’t exactly know what an interventional radiologist does.’

‘It’s all about image-guided diagnosis and treatment. It’s not as invasive as conventional surgery, and we use radiological techniques to target our treatments very precisely.’

‘Sounds fascinating.’ She was obviously weighing up the idea in her head, and Matteo smiled. Most people thought it sounded a bit dry. ‘I hope you don’t mind my asking, but how does your colour blindness affect what you do? It’s not all black-and-white images, is it?’

‘No. Doppler imaging involves colour, to indicate tissue velocities. But it’s colour coding, and so switching the colours to the parts of the spectrum that I can see is always an option.’

‘Yes, I see. I suppose that most problems have a solution.’

That was exactly what he wanted her to understand. That William’s colour blindness was a set of solutions and not a set of problems.

‘Did you know that the man who pioneered diagnostic radiology was colour-blind?’

‘No, I didn’t. Did you hear that, William?’ She looked down at her son, who was busy engaging with the people who passed them in the corridor, pulling at her hand as he turned this way and that, taking in his new surroundings.

‘I don’t think he’s much interested in the history of diagnostic radiology.’ Matteo chuckled. He hadn’t been either when he’d been William’s age.

‘Well, he could be if he wanted to, later on.’ Rose seemed as open to new possibilities as her son, and it made her initial reaction to Dr Garfagnini’s diagnosis all the more puzzling.

He led her through the outer office, stopping to ask his secretary why she hadn’t gone home yet, and ushered Rose into his own office. She put her bag down on the floor, sitting down in the chair that he pulled up for her, and William reached into her bag.

‘William! That doesn’t belong to us...’ William had obviously slipped one of the cars from the toy box into Rose’s bag.

He wondered if the boy was just as entranced by Rose’s look of firm reproof as he was. Matteo turned away, putting his desk between them. He was a doctor first and a man second right now, and thoughts about just how stern Rose might be enticed into getting with him weren’t even vaguely appropriate.

‘No matter. I’ll take it back when he’s finished with it.’ Matteo was sure that the clinic upstairs could spare one rather battered blue car, but Rose was obviously making a point with her son.

‘Thank you.’ She turned back to William. ‘You can play with it while I talk to Dr Di Salvo, but when we go, we’re going to give it back to him.’

William nodded, running to the corner of the office with the car and sitting down on the floor. He looked at his mother and then Matteo, and then started to play with the car, running it up and down the carpet in front of him.

‘Sorry about that.’ She pulled an embarrassed face. ‘He’s an only child and...well, we’ve been exploring the concept of giving things back recently.’

‘He seems to interact with people very well.’ Rose’s eyes had taken on that look of suppressed panic again, and Matteo’s first instinct was to reassure her.

‘I do my best to give him as much time as possible playing with other children. It’s not always easy...’ She bit her lip. ‘I’m sorry if I overreacted over the colour-blindness. I didn’t mean to imply that it’s...well, it’s not a terrible thing. I hope I didn’t offend you.’

Her words jolted him into the unwelcome recognition that she had offended him. That her reaction had somehow told him that he wasn’t good enough and that it was a hard thing to take from a woman as beautiful as she was.

‘Not at all. It’s not an easy thing for people to understand at first.’

‘It’s kind of you to make excuses for me. I’m a scientist so I should be able to understand these things.’ She clasped her hands together tightly on her lap. ‘It’s...something he inherited from me?’

The question seemed to matter to her. ‘Blue-green colour-blindness is carried on the X chromosome so...yes, almost certainly. Is there anyone in your family who’s colour-blind?’

‘Not that I know of. My mother was adopted at birth, though, and she was never interested in finding her biological parents. I suppose she could have passed it to me, and then...’ She broke off. ‘I hope you don’t mind all these questions.’

‘Questions are what I’m here for. I can’t give you a proper clinical judgement, that’s Dr Garfagnini’s speciality, but I can tell you about my own personal experience.’

Even if his personal experience was making this more difficult than he’d expected. The line between doctor and patient—or patient’s mother in this case—had suddenly become a little more fuzzy than usual, and Matteo felt his own heart bleeding into the mix. But Rose had the one thing that pressed all his alarm buttons, telling him to back off now and stop thinking about how much he liked being in her company, and how intrigued he was to find out more about her. She had a child.

* * *

Alec, her ex-husband, would have known this all along. If there was something the matter with anything, then he would have taken it for granted that it was Rose’s fault. Even after more than four years of separation, it still grated to find that he would have been right and that this was one more way in which she’d failed William.

But for William’s sake, if not her own, she should calm down. Attaching a value judgement to something like this would only make him feel not good enough. She couldn’t do anything about her genes, but not good enough was something she could choose not to pass on to him.

She owed Matteo an explanation, though. He’d been more than kind, and she wanted to give him an explanation, which was strange, because usually she’d move heaven and earth rather than talk about this.

‘My marriage broke up before William was born, and I worry that...’ She shrugged miserably. ‘I can’t help worrying that somehow all the stress might have affected him. And I really should have noticed this before.’

He nodded, as if somehow he understood completely. It was a giddy feeling, and Rose reminded herself that he probably nodded in that exact way with all his patients.

‘You’re a scientist, you know that stress can’t change genetic make-up. But I suppose that any amount of good sense can’t stop a mother from worrying about her child.’

She couldn’t help smiling at him. ‘No. That’s right.’

‘And my colour-blindness wasn’t confirmed until I was William’s age. Even though my parents knew it was a possibility because two of my mother’s brothers are colour-blind.’

Rose nodded. ‘Thank you. I hear what you’re saying.’

‘But you don’t accept it?’

‘Give me time. I’m not sure that I can excuse myself so easily just yet.’

Matteo smiled, leaning back in his chair. ‘Fair enough. This is all very new. It may take a while before you can understand exactly which colours William can and can’t see. He’s probably already developed a lot of coping strategies, which may mask his inability to distinguish one colour from another.’

‘What kind of coping strategy?’

‘Well, for instance I talk about red and green traffic lights, but what I really mean is the one at the top and the one at the bottom. I know they’re red and green because people have told me, and so I refer to them in a way they’ll understand.’

‘How did you know about William? I mean, if you couldn’t see the colour of the cars...’

Matteo laughed. ‘I cheated. The receptionist told me.’

‘Do you see things as textures?’ He looked surprised at the question and Rose explained. ‘I had a student who was colour-blind a couple of years ago. He had a real knack with the data from ground-penetrating radar, and I got him involved in an ultrasound survey that the university was doing of some caves in the area. He really excelled with it, and he told me that it was because he saw things in terms of texture.’

‘We all see texture. But I use shape and texture a lot more in defining objects, because that’s what’s available to me. I can’t tell the difference between pink and purple on histological slides, so I got through that module at medical school by learning different cell shapes. The coloured stain is intended to highlight what’s there, but just looking at that can sometimes obscure other things.’

‘Which is why you’re a radiologist?’ Rose imagined that he was very good at what he did. He had that quiet assurance about him.

‘Partly, perhaps. Although actually it fascinates me.’

She laughed. ‘My mistake again. William’s options aren’t defined by his colour blindness.’

When she looked into the dark brown of his gaze, almost anything seemed possible. But if William’s future was all about options, hers wasn’t. It was about staying on course, looking after her son, and trying to make some contribution through the work that she loved. Matteo was a kind man, and he was gorgeous, but he wasn’t an option.

* * *

They’d talked for half an hour, and when William had tired of his game and come to squeeze himself onto Rose’s chair, she’d explained what colour-blindness was in response to his questions. Despite her initial reaction, Rose had been so positive about it all, telling her son that he was special, that his next questions seemed almost inevitable.

‘We’ve got super powers, then?’

‘Not yet.’ She flashed Matteo a smile, bending towards William with a stage-whisper. ‘Maybe when you grow up.’

William turned to Matteo, then back to his mother. ‘He’s got super powers?’ Matteo tried not to smile, since the observation had been behind his hand and clearly intended for his mother’s ears only.

‘Maybe. You never know. Best not to mention it, it might be a secret.’

William nodded sagely, and Rose looked at her watch.

‘We should go. We’ve taken too much of your time already, and I really appreciate it.’

And he should let her go. Right now, before the lines became any more blurred. He got to his feet, and William walked over to him and placed the blue car in his hand, whispering loudly that he wouldn’t tell anyone about the super powers.

Rose shot him a smile and picked up her bag, looking inside to make sure that William hadn’t deposited anything from his office in there. He almost wished that the boy had, because Rose would undoubtedly make a point of returning it, even if it did mean a trip all the way back to the hospital.

‘Would you like to see our lab? On the way out?’ She’d mentioned how most university archaeology departments would give their eye teeth for some of the imaging technology that the hospital boasted, and he suddenly felt like showing off a little.

‘Yes, I’d love to.’ She grinned. ‘Although you’d better check my handbag on the way out.’

‘That’s okay. You’ll never get a CT scanner in there.’

‘I suppose not. Anyway, you need it a lot more than I do.’

He led her down the corridor, quiet now that most of the department was on their way home. The night shift would be using one of the labs, but the other would be empty.

As he opened the door, she bent and took hold of William’s hand. She took a couple of steps into the room, looking around carefully.

‘Very impressive.’ Her gaze lit on the two large screens over the operating table. ‘So these screens tell you everything that’s going on?’

Matteo nodded. ‘Yes. We do a very wide range of procedures here. We can treat fibroids, unblock clogged arteries, perform angioplasty. There are some cancers that we can treat, and that list is growing. We often work with clinicians and surgeons from other disciplines.’

She looked up at him. ‘So maybe one day no one will need to be cut open by a surgeon.’

‘That’s more science fiction than medical fact at the moment. Although we do have help from robotic technology.’ He grinned, gesturing towards the robotic arm that duplicated his own precise movements on a much smaller scale.

‘But you make the decisions. If I were on that table, I think I’d feel a lot more confident if it wasn’t a robot in charge.’

She seemed to make everything so human, so personal. Or perhaps he was the one that was making everything personal, and if that was the case then he should stop it.

‘I’m definitely the one in charge.’

She smiled, turning for the door. ‘Thank you for showing me. It’s fascinating.’

Matteo closed the lab, and decided that it was only polite to walk her to the lift. When the lift came, it seemed only natural to walk her to the main entrance. If he wasn’t going to follow her all the way home, he was going to have to say goodbye at some point.

‘Whereabouts are you digging?’ If she couldn’t answer in the next thirty seconds then he’d never know, because they were already outside and halfway to the car park.

‘Up in the hills, about five miles to the south of Palermo. There was a dig up there a couple of years ago that uncovered evidence of a small settlement.’

‘I know it. You’ve found something else?’

‘Yes, we’re excavating a Roman villa. It’s an important find.’ In the sunshine she seemed even more golden.

‘That’s interesting. My grandfather used to tell me stories of encampments in those hills. More recently than that, though.’

‘We’ve found a lot to indicate that the site’s been inhabited for many years. We’re always very interested in any local stories about the sites we dig.’ She paused for a moment as if thinking something over. ‘I don’t suppose you’d like to come and see the site, would you? I’d be very pleased to give you a tour, show you what we’re doing.’

The site sounded interesting. Matteo tried to think of a reason why he shouldn’t and found that the word no had just mysteriously disappeared from his vocabulary. ‘I’d really like that. If you have time.’

She gave him a look of mild reproof and opened her handbag, taking out her purse and extracting a card. ‘My mobile number’s on here. Give me a call and we’ll arrange a time.’

‘Thanks. I will.’ Matteo held out his hand, wondering how he should bid her goodbye. Somehow they seemed to be hovering insubstantially between Dr Di Salvo and Ms Palmer, and Matteo and Rose. Neither seemed to quite fit the bill.

‘Goodbye, then.’

She took his hand, giving it a brisk shake. ‘Goodbye.’ Clearly she wasn’t quite sure what to call him either.

He watched as she put William into the back seat of the car and got in, reversing out of her parking space, the card with her number on it seeming to burn a hole in his hand.

* * *

The early evening traffic in Palermo was a great deal less challenging than feeling that Matteo’s eyes were on her, watching her drive out of the car park. Rose relaxed a little as she rounded the corner, out of his view.

‘Mum.’ William’s voice sounded from the back of the car.

‘Yes?’

‘Are you going to ask him to be your boyfriend?’ William had been exploring the concept on and off for the last few months. His radar was just as perceptive as the delicate diagnostic equipment in Matteo’s lab.

‘No, sweetie.’ Rose injected as much certainty into her reply as she could, and started to count. Generally it took William about fifteen seconds to follow up one mortifyingly embarrassing question with another, even more embarrassing. At least he’d waited until they were in the car.

‘Wouldn’t he be a good boyfriend?’ It had taken William up to a count of twelve to formulate the thought.

‘I’m sure he’d make a very good boyfriend.’ Stupendous, actually. But in William’s mind the word was reserved for cars and superheroes. ‘Only I don’t want one.’

‘Why not?’

Why not indeed. Telling William that his father had been the only serious relationship she’d ever had, and that she’d made a complete and utter mess of it, probably wasn’t a good idea. Neither was telling him that she would never allow herself to get into a situation where she could make all those mistakes again.

‘Because I’ve got you. And Grandma and Grandad, and my job. And you. I don’t need anything else.’

‘Good. Because he’s my friend.’

‘Yes. I think superheroes ought to stick together.’

CHAPTER THREE

MATTEO DROVE ALONG the dusty, snaking road. He’d told himself that however interested he was in seeing the site, he wouldn’t go, but all the same he’d asked his grandfather to recount the old stories about the area when he’d visited him at the weekend. And once he’d transcribed them into English, it seemed only right that he should give them to Rose.

He sent her a text and she replied almost immediately. If he’d like to come to the site on Friday evening, she’d show him around.

He could see signs of activity up ahead of him, people taking advantage of the cool of the evening to work. Matteo turned off the road and parked his car next to the others that were lined up along the perimeter of the site.

She walked towards him as he got out of his car. Fair hair tied up in a messy ponytail at the back of her head, her arms bare, a thin white top with blue embroidery over a faded pair of denim shorts. Like the rest of the people working here, her feet were protected from the rocky terrain by battered work boots.

‘Hello. You made it, then.’

There had never been any real question about that. And now she was standing beside him he realised that he would have driven over to the other side of the island just for this one glimpse of her. Matteo wondered briefly whether her choice to wear blue was for his benefit, and decided that he had no right to hope that it was.

‘Yes, I made it.’

They stood for a moment smiling at each other and then Rose turned suddenly. ‘Come and see what we’ve been doing.’

She led the way over to a group of prefabricated buildings. Inside, long trestles held boxes of material, waiting to be sorted and cleaned.

‘I brought some notes from my grandfather.’ He felt suddenly unsure of himself. ‘I’m not sure they’ll be any use to you. They’re just old stories and some of them are pretty far-fetched.’

‘That’s just the kind of thing we’re interested in. Old stories are often embellished as they’re handed down but they usually contain a kernel of truth.’

‘I’m not sure about these...’ Matteo reached into his pocket, producing the written sheets and handing them over to her, and Rose scanned them.

‘Bandits...’ She nodded. ‘We’ve heard that one. But we haven’t heard this... A sorceress?’

‘Yeah. I doubt that one’s got any basis of truth in it.’ Matteo shifted uncomfortably. The stories meant a lot to his grandfather, but he liked to think that his feet were more firmly planted in the modern world.

‘You never know. It’s good to keep an open mind. May I put these into our site archive?’ She put the paper down on the worktop and walked over to a cabinet, consulting the labels on the plastic boxes stacked inside.

‘Of course. If they’re of any interest.’

She turned, grinning. ‘Everything’s of interest. We just have to find out how it all fits together. About what date would the bandits be?’

Matteo chuckled. ‘A long time ago, and they’re all long gone. My grandfather’s nearly eighty, and it was when his father was a boy.’

‘So...’ She turned. ‘Somewhere around nineteen ten. Twenty...?’

‘About that.’

‘Will you write that down, please, on the paper?’ She turned back to the boxes, running her finger along the rows, and found the one she wanted, pulling it out.

Matteo did as she asked, wondering what this was all about. Then she opened the box. ‘We reckon that this probably dates from around that time.’

In a plastic bag lay a bullet. Matteo stared at it open-mouthed. ‘You’re kidding...’

She grinned. ‘No, we found it in one of the test pits. We often find things which are more modern when we dig down to get to the older strata. You’d be surprised how many old plastic bags get turned up.’

Matteo picked up the bullet, looking at it carefully, the sudden thrill of discovery throbbing through his veins. ‘It could be from a hunting rifle...’

‘Could be. We’ve sent photos off to a forensic ballistics expert, and we should know a bit more soon. I’d have thought it would be more likely to be buckshot if it was for hunting, though. There were no human or animal remains there, so maybe target practice?’

‘You’re hoping target practice.’ The idea of anything else made Matteo shiver.

‘Yes, hoping.’ She smiled, leaning towards him, obviously catching his mood. ‘Careful. We’ll have you hooked if you don’t watch out.’

‘You might have warned me sooner. I’m already hooked.’ In more ways than one, when he thought about it.

‘Ah. Well, since the damage is already done, it can’t do any harm to show you a bit more.’ Rose gave him a bright smile, her obvious enthusiasm for her work bubbling deliciously. Putting the bullet away and picking up the sheets of paper, she led him away from the finds to a large computer screen in the corner of the room.

‘I thought this might be of interest to you. Where your skills and mine meet.’

The thought of her off-duty skills meeting his, and testing them to their limit, sent a cool shiver down his spine. Matteo reminded himself that he needed to get a grip. That clearly wasn’t what she was talking about.

She opened directories, finding the file she wanted, and an image came up on the screen. ‘This is the geophysical survey.’

Matteo sat down next to her, leaning forward to study it carefully. ‘This is ground-penetrating radar?’

‘Yes, that’s right. We’re using a combination of GPR and electromagnetic survey techniques.’ She leaned back in her seat. ‘This is a pretty easy one. What do you reckon?’

‘I’d say...well, that line looks like an external wall of some sort, and those are internal walls?’

‘Yes, that’s right. Most people don’t see it straight away.’

‘And this is...what, two doorways?’ Matteo indicated the breaks in the pattern.

‘Maybe. I’m inclined to think a doorway and a window. We’ll see when we excavate.’ She pulled up the directory and opened another file. ‘We interpret the survey data and map out the site using computer aided design software. These green lines here...’ Her hand flew to her mouth.

Matteo grinned at her. ‘It’s okay. You can mention green in my presence. I can take it.’

She laughed, changed the settings on the image, and it reformed on the screen, different hatching styles replacing the difficult-to-read colour coding.

‘That’s better. So these single lines are...?’

‘It’s what we’ve gleaned so far from the surveys. The cross-hatching is what we’ve extrapolated from that.’

‘Guessed, you mean?’ he teased.

She gave him a look of mock horror. ‘It’s in keeping with what we know about this type of building. Call it an educated guess.’

‘Right. And this is the atrium?’ When he leaned in, he caught her scent. She smelled gorgeous, like the scent of silk against skin.

‘Yes, that’s right. It has a mosaic floor and usually an indoor pool right at the centre, below the open part of the roof.’

‘Is that another guess?’

‘No! We’ve dug a few test pits there, and there is evidence of a mosaic floor. We’re hoping that it’s in good condition and the bits we’ve seen aren’t just fragments. Would you like to come and see?’

When they walked out into the evening sunshine, Rose tipped her head up slightly, as if welcoming the cool caress of the breeze on her face. ‘It’s beautiful up here. I’m very lucky...’

‘You like Sicily?’ Suddenly that mattered more than it should.

‘I haven’t actually seen a great deal of it yet. I’ve been pretty involved up here, and the rest of my time is William’s. But what I have seen is wonderful.’

Such a bright, sparkling spirit, contained in such strictly drawn boundaries. Matteo felt himself wanting to break those boundaries down, and wondered if Rose ever felt constrained by them.

‘You do this kind of thing back in England?’

‘These days, I usually teach during term time and dig during the summer holidays. William’s grown up messing around in the mud.’ She grinned. ‘But this was such an opportunity I couldn’t say no to it, and I’ve taken a six-month sabbatical.’

‘But you don’t do forensics any more?’

‘No, never.’ She quirked her mouth down a little. ‘I got involved with that when I was at university—one of the professors did work for the police. Finding remains, modelling faces, that kind of thing. It seemed like a good thing to do at the time and I went on to work on a number of cases with him and then some alone’

‘It’s important work.’ It seemed as if the spark, which invigorated her and made everything she touched seem special, had suddenly gone.

‘I felt that getting justice for people mattered. I still do, but it was very hard emotionally. I couldn’t stop myself getting over-involved.’

‘I can understand...’ Matteo bit the words back. He knew all about being involved with his work, and could understand a wish for justice. But he wasn’t sure he understood these particular pressures, or how Rose must have felt.

* * *

Did he? Did he really understand? When she looked into his face, she saw only humanity, the gentle eyes of a healer. To understand some of the things she’d seen, someone would need to have a streak of evil in their heart.

‘No, you don’t understand. And, trust me, that’s a good thing, there are some things that decent people shouldn’t be able to make sense of.’

‘Can you explain it to me, then?’

‘No. I really don’t think I can.’ Suddenly the air seemed cold, and Rose shivered, wanting to cover up her bare arms.

Why should Matteo be any different from her ex-husband? It was better not to say anything, so that she didn’t have to hear him dismiss her feelings.

Rose shot him a smile and he took the hint. ‘What was it you were going to show me?’

She almost wished he hadn’t given up so easily. As she showed him the newly excavated test pits and the areas of mosaic that they’d uncovered, he seemed to have left everything else behind, concentrating only on what was before his eyes.

But Rose couldn’t forget. Alec had been a lot like Matteo, easygoing and charming, and that was what had drawn her to him. He hadn’t wanted to know about the hard parts of life, or even its necessary practicalities, and Rose had dealt with them willingly, not wanting to spoil his almost shining aloofness from such things.

They’d set up home together, working on scraping the walls and rebuilding the ramshackle kitchen and bathroom in the house in Tufnell Park. And they’d been happy.

It had been Rose who couldn’t cope. When her work had become stressful, Alec hadn’t wanted her to spoil their evenings by talking about it. She’d stayed quiet, turning in on herself, and in the end they’d hardly communicated at all. Her pregnancy, so unexpected but so much wanted, had left her even more tired and that had been the last straw for Alec. He’d wanted the carefree life they’d had, and when Rose had destroyed it all he’d left without looking back.

Matteo was squatting down next to one of the pits, talking in Italian to the archaeology student who was digging there. He was obviously asking about the soil strata at the side of the pit because the student ran his finger along a darker layer that indicated a fire maybe three hundred years ago.

He’d been kind, and he seemed willing to be a friend. Her life was on course now, and anything else would be madness. She’d messed up once, and now that she had William to consider, she couldn’t afford to do it again.

Matteo got to his feet and walked over to stand beside her. ‘You’re doing some fascinating work here.’

‘I’ve saved the most interesting thing for last.’

His eyes hooded lazily in an almost explicit invitation. ‘I’m already captivated. What more can you do?’

Rose gulped, turned her back on him in case she was tempted to improvise an answer, and started to lead him away from the main excavations, along a dusty pathway. ‘This is another find we made by mistake. No one knew it was there...’

She was shaking, blushing furiously and playing the tour guide so she could banish unwanted thoughts. Rose saw a figure up ahead of them and quickened her pace to catch up, reckoning that there was a certain degree of security in numbers.

‘David...’ The middle-aged man turned as she called his name. ‘I’d like you to meet Dr Matteo Di Salvo...’

‘Dr Di Salvo.’ The two men shook hands. ‘What’s your speciality?’

Matteo grinned. ‘Medicine. Rose has been kind enough to show me around this evening.’

David laughed over his own mistake and the two men began to chat, moving quickly from the necessary preliminaries of the weather and the spectacular view up here to Matteo’s questions about the site. He was interested in everything. Rose breathed a sigh of relief, reminding herself that she was just a very small part of everything that Matteo’s quick mind seemed to thrive on.

They climbed a little, over rough, stony ground, and then reached the mouth of a cave. David handed Matteo a hard hat from a box, and chalked the number three, along with the time, on the blackboard that hung outside.

‘Our little safety precaution.’ David smiled at Matteo. ‘Just in case anyone meets with an accident.’

She saw Matteo’s eyebrow quirk downwards, but he said nothing. ‘We also let the main office know when we’re coming down here.’ Under the intensity of Matteo’s gaze, the blackboard seemed a very amateurish and uncertain precaution.

‘Oh...yes, of course.’ David smiled. ‘Must remember to do that next time. I dare say that someone will be down to rescue you two if we don’t emerge in one piece, and I’ll just tag along.’

‘David...’ Rose shot him an exasperated look and he laughed, turning to Matteo.

‘She’s right, of course.’

‘Of course. I wouldn’t want to be caught ignoring the lady’s advice.’

Even in the chill of the cave, hot flushes spread over her skin. She wished he’d stop this. But then it seemed to come quite naturally to Matteo, and perhaps it didn’t really mean anything. She switched on her torch, swinging the beam down towards the area marked out by reflective tape, which designated where it was safe to walk, then up towards the roof of the cave.

‘You can see here that there are deposits from fires having been lit inside here.’ Matteo looked obligingly upwards, and nodded. ‘In the scheme of things they’re probably quite recent, maybe about the same time-frame as the bullet. But if we go further back...’

She led the way towards what looked like the back of the cave, ducking into a small passageway. Matteo followed her, gasping as he walked out into the high, stone cavern that lay beyond it.

‘You think this was used? In ancient times?’ He walked into the space, the beam of his torch reaching out into the darkness. It found quartz deposits to the right, and further on the small underground stream that bubbled its way into a deep pool in the corner of the cave.

‘We’ve found both Greek and Roman pottery in here,’ David replied. ‘And there’s some evidence that it may have been used right back into the Iron Age. It would be a very fine refuge in times of trouble and we think that people may have been coming here for centuries.’

‘These marks.’ Matteo turned to run his fingers lightly over the walls of the stone entranceway. ‘What are these?’

‘That’s one of the really interesting parts. We think they’re made with stone implements, not metal ones. It looks as if someone widened out the opening to the cave a very long time ago, probably so that it could be used. There are more caves beyond this one.’

‘Fascinating.’ Matteo really did seem fascinated. ‘May I have a look around?’

‘Yes, of course. Keep to the area inside the tape, that’s the area that has already been processed.’ Rose shone her torch onto the route that led to the next cave, marked out on each side by reflective tape. ‘If you happen to see any Roman-style jewellery scattered around, give me a shout.’

‘You wish.’ David chuckled, switching on one of the large lights standing on tripods around the areas where the archaeologists were currently working. ‘I’m going to do some more on that boring old pottery. You go look for buried treasure.’

She let Matteo look around then led him through a succession of smaller caves, showing him where they’d made finds as she went. Away from the lights, his features were sharper, even more striking. And Rose couldn’t help staring at him every chance she got. His tall frame, his relaxed gait. Matteo was like a work of art standing still, but it was the way he moved that made her head swim.

Her head really was swimming and her legs felt suddenly unsteady. Maybe there was something wrong with the air in here. Rose heard her torch clatter at her feet before she’d even realised that she’d dropped it and it went out suddenly. In the moments before the beam of Matteo’s torch swung round towards her she saw a faint glimmer of light in the far corner of the cave.

‘What’s that?’ She was blinded by his torch, shining straight at her. ‘Turn the light out, I can see daylight.’

‘Forget about that...’

‘No... Turn your light out.’ No one had been working in this cave and they’d thought it was the last in the series. But there was something beyond it.

Matteo strode towards her, his fingers closing around her arm. ‘Don’t be alarmed.’ His voice was low and steady. ‘It’s a minor earthquake.’

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