From Venice With Love (11 page)

‘I’ll send for you,’ Nico said softly. ‘If I need you.’ He stepped past Charlotte into the corridor, where the steward was waiting anxiously for Nico to follow him. The last personal thoughts evaporated. ‘What equipment do you have on board?’ he queried. ‘Oxygen? A defibrillator?’

‘Yes. We have oxygen. And an AED.’

‘Good.’ Nico picked up his pace as they made their
way to the cabin at the far end of the carriage. ‘Show me which cabin and then fetch them for me, please.’

The man in the end cabin was in his sixties. His colour wasn’t good and he was clutching a small red and white canister of glyceryl trinitrate spray in his hands. His wife was beside him, looking even paler than her husband and virtually wringing her hands.

‘How long is it since the pain came on?’ Nico asked.

The anxious woman checked her watch. ‘Nearly fifteen minutes.’

‘And how many doses of the spray have been taken?’

‘Two? Maybe three…I’ve lost count.’ The woman was struggling to hold back tears. ‘It’s not working and…and they said that if it didn’t work it could be a heart attack and we’d have to get Douglas to the hospital as quickly as possible.’

Nico had his fingers on the older man’s wrist. His pulse was a bit rapid but quite strong and regular.

‘Tell me about the pain.’

‘It’s like a bus parked on my chest. Right here…’ Douglas pressed a fist to his sternum. ‘It’s hard to breathe.’

‘Just in your chest?’

‘Yes.’

‘Have you ever had a heart attack?’

‘Yes. Ten years ago. That’s when this whole business started. But it’s been stable. Always comes on the same way…and if I sit down and use the spray it…does the trick.’

He was starting to sound breathless. Thankfully the steward had returned now. He was carrying an oxygen cylinder in one hand and the small red case of an
AED in the other. Hopefully the automatic defibrillator wouldn’t be needed but it was great to know that such a lifesaver was available if it came to that. Even with the best team in the world performing CPR, it could only buy time. The only way to restart a heart was through defibrillation.

The best team in the world. Unbidden, a memory of Charlotte working with him on the man at the building site flashed into the back of Nico’s mind. He shook it off as he uncoiled tubing and fitted nasal prongs to give Douglas some oxygen.

‘This may help the pain,’ he said. ‘Are you on any medications?’

‘Yes. Too many.’

‘Can you tell me what they are?’

Douglas shook his head, closing his eyes and screwing up his face as though the pain was becoming unbearable. A sheen of perspiration was beginning to show on his bald head. Nico’s heart sank.

‘I’ve got them.’ The anxious older woman was rummaging in a small suitcase. She pulled out a plastic bag containing numerous packages of medication. They were all things that a cardiac patient could be expected to be on.

‘Have you had your aspirin today?’

‘Yes.’ It was his wife who answered. ‘He’s taken everything.’

‘Let’s try another dose of the GTN.’ Nico took the canister from the man’s hands. It was a bad sign if the spray that normally worked on his angina was failing to be effective but was it possible that it hadn’t been used correctly? Nico rolled the canister in his hands, making
sure the contents were mixed and then sprayed a dose into the air to check that the metered dose mechanism was working. The spray came out but, oddly, Nico couldn’t smell anything.

He held the canister up and peered at the base. ‘This spray expired two years ago,’ he exclaimed.

‘Oh, my goodness!’ Douglas’s wife clapped a hand to her mouth. ‘Really?’

‘Really.’ Nico reached for the portable pharmacy in the plastic bag. Yes. There was a small box in there that contained a replacement canister. And the expiry date was a year away. He ripped open the box, took the lid off the canister and squeezed off a test shot. ‘Open your mouth,’ he directed Douglas, ‘and lift your tongue.’

He gave Douglas two sprays under his tongue and then kept his fingers on his patient’s pulse and watched his breathing while they waited. Within a matter of minutes Douglas started breathing more easily and deeply. The lines on his face relaxed and when he opened his eyes he actually smiled.

‘It’s almost gone,’ he said.

‘Oh…thank God…’ His wife was crying. ‘I’m so sorry, Doug. This is my fault. I should have thrown that old spray away as soon as we had the new one.’

‘Waste not, want not.’ Douglas patted his wife’s hand. ‘If you weren’t so good at being thrifty we’d never have been able to afford this trip, would we?’ He turned to Nico. ‘Thank you, Doctor. I’m not having a heart attack after all, am I?’

‘It certainly looks like nothing more than an episode of angina. Let’s keep the oxygen going for a little
while and see how you go. Someone can always come and find me later, too, if you’re worried.’

The only person looking worried now was Douglas’s wife. ‘I’m so sorry to have disturbed your trip,’ she told Nico.

‘It’s not a problem.’

‘Is it your first time on the Orient Express?’

‘It is.’

‘Isn’t it wonderful? Are you enjoying it?’

‘Of course.’ But Nico had to consciously smile instead of allowing a puzzled frown to crease his forehead. Enjoyment wasn’t a word that he would have chosen to describe his state of mind so far. He’d started out being intrigued and then he’d been impressed by Charlotte’s piano playing. He’d had a spell of being angry when he’d been accused of planning to take advantage of her and then he’d had that cold chill of horror when he thought he’d guessed her secret.

But the overwhelming emotion that he would remember from this trip was going to be the way he’d felt sitting in that cabin and holding Charlotte while she slept. The feeling of protecting her. Of knowing that she trusted him enough to fall asleep in his arms like that. That he could trust
her
enough not to ever share the personal information he had given her.

A good feeling.

An incredibly powerful feeling.

Even more powerful than the desire that had kicked in when he’d realised that Charlotte had wanted him to kiss her as much as
he’d
wanted to kiss her?

Yes. Strangely, it was. He was used to desire and he
knew there were countless women in the world who could make him feel like that.

But that other feeling was completely unfamiliar. And deeply disturbing. Powerful enough to feel like it had a life of its own and could take control. Was this what falling in love was all about?

Nico couldn’t answer that because he’d never been in this space before. He wasn’t capable of falling in love. He knew that. But maybe he was getting a glimpse of what it might be about.

And it was disturbing enough that he never wanted to experience it again so maybe it was time to take charge and make sure he wasn’t ambushed by any other strange emotions. The distraction of being a doctor for a little while was definitely helping. The fact that the train seemed to be coming to a halt was less helpful.

Had something happened? Maybe there was engine trouble or something on the tracks and he’d end up being on this train for a lot longer than expected. Just how long could he keep up the level of control he might need when he was sharing a compartment with Charlotte?

The steward, who’d been hovering outside the cabin while Nico treated Douglas, stooped to peer through the window. ‘We’re coming into Innsbruck,’ he announced. ‘I need to attend to other duties.’

Nico nodded. ‘Thanks very much for your help.’

‘I can put the AED away now?’

‘Yes. Thankfully, I don’t think we need it.’ Nico raised his eyebrows as the train jerked and came to a complete halt. ‘Why are we stopping?’

‘We have to change engines whenever we come to an international border. This is a thirty-minute stop and
most people like to get off the train and stretch their legs a bit.’ The steward hurried off, probably to open doors and then to stand, looking very smart in his blue uniform, to give people another photo opportunity.

Douglas certainly wasn’t going to be jumping off the train to stretch his legs right now. Nico adjusted the setting on the oxygen cylinder and settled in to watch the progress of his new patient.

The contents of Lady Geraldine’s larger suitcase were spread out over the seat and hanging from the edges of the bunks as she chose her outfit for dinner.

‘The long black taffeta skirt,’ she decided. ‘With the black, silk camisole and the velvet bolero jacket.’

‘Very Gothic,’ Charlotte smiled. ‘Shall I do your hair so that you’ve got a bit of fringe covering one eye?’

‘Don’t be naughty, Charlotte Jane. The black is merely a canvas to show off my diamond jewellery. I’m going to need my necklace and the brooch that goes on the jacket. And I’ve got my bracelet and best rings in my jewellery case. Oh…we mustn’t forget that darling little tiara either. The one I wore last night, remember?’

‘How could I forget?’

Lady Geraldine eyed her granddaughter suspiciously. ‘I don’t think you’re taking this seriously, Charlotte. This is the dinner of my lifetime and I intend to look the part.’

‘Sorry, Gran.’ Charlotte kissed her fondly. ‘I want you to enjoy tonight as much as possible. Are you sure you’re feeling all right? Did you have a good rest?’

‘I had a lovely rest. And then I had an even better
time having afternoon tea with my old friend, Winsome. We still have lots to talk about.’

‘Maybe you’ll see her again after dinner.’

Oddly, Lady Geraldine looked evasive now. ‘Help me into my skirt, child. And then you’d better start doing something to get ready yourself. Fancy suggesting I wear my hair over my eye. Have you looked in a mirror recently? What have you and Nico been up to in your cabin?’

‘Gran…’
But Charlotte couldn’t help thinking about the look in Nico’s eyes just before the steward had interrupted them. About how much she had wanted that kiss to happen. Even now, the curl of desire the memory could evoke was enough to make her close her eyes for a heartbeat. To make her lips curl in pleasure at the memory.

If that kiss had happened, would it have stopped there? Would she have wanted it to? The bite of fear that kicked in was enough to make her shake her head as if she could banish the hateful sensation.

She needed to try and locate at least a shimmer of her old armour. To pretend to be in control. Normal. Maybe it would help to make a joke of it. ‘Have you
seen
the size of those bunks?’

‘You’re young,’ Lady Geraldine said with a smile. ‘I’m sure you’ll cope.’ She reached out and stroked Charlotte’s cheek. ‘Oh, darling. You’re so in love with him, aren’t you?’

Charlotte had to turn away. To find something solid to focus on as she felt the ground shifting beneath her feet with a curious spinning sensation. She lifted the hanger holding her grandmother’s astonishing skirt with
the ruffled hem down from the top bunk and pretended to notice some lint that needed brushing away.

In love?

Ridiculous. Nobody fell in love that quickly. She felt safe with Nico, that was all. He knew more about her than anyone. More than her grandmother, in fact, in a rather significant area.

She liked him. A lot. Who wouldn’t? He was clever and kind. So kind that he’d sat, getting cramp, for hours, holding a woman in his arms because he hadn’t wanted to wake her?

She trusted him, too. Who couldn’t trust someone who put the kind of trust in you that led to sharing the kind of secret she could so well understand him wanting to keep to himself? Not that it was true, of course. Nico was more than capable of falling in love if he’d only let himself.

And that feeling when she’d woken up in those arms. As if she had been floating in the most blissful place on earth. She’d never felt so safe.

So
protected
.

Superimposed on that memory came that look of desire in Nico’s eyes when their lips had been drifting closer together in the moments before that rap on the door.

That mix of safety and desire was a chemical combination that could only mean one thing.

That…yes. She
was
in love with Nico Moretti.

No. Maybe it meant two things.

She was not only in love. She was in trouble.

M
AYBE IT WAS
her new awareness of how she felt about Nico. Or perhaps it was the incongruity of him appearing in these surroundings looking impossibly gorgeous in his dinner suit. Whatever it was, it completely stole Charlotte’s breath away when she opened the door of her grandmother’s compartment to his polite knock.

Did her grandmother actually bat her eyelashes?

‘It’s been a long time since I was escorted to dinner by such a handsome young man,’ she said with delight. ‘Charlotte Jane? You can have him later but I really do need Nico’s arm while we’re walking. This train is remarkably jerky at times.’

‘No worries, Gran.’ Charlotte smiled. ‘He’s all yours.’

But then her gaze caught Nico’s and the smile got stolen away like her breath had been. Oh…Lord…that look in his eyes.

‘I love that dress,’ was all he said. ‘I’m so glad you’ve worn it again,
cara.’

Lady Geraldine made a tutting sound. ‘I’m trying to train Charlotte to expand her wardrobe, Nico. It won’t
help if you tell her you’re happy she’s worn the same thing two nights running.’

‘But it’s true, Jendi.’ Nico’s smile for her grandmother was so warm and genuine that Charlotte’s heart squeezed painfully. How could she not love a man who was clearly already so fond of her beloved gran? ‘And I am an honest man.’

The comment did something strange inside Charlotte. Echoes of his voice telling her that he’d been honest with her and asking her to give him the honour of being the same with him. It was a bond she knew she could never have with another person. Did he feel the same? No. How could he when she hadn’t shared the most shameful part of her secret? When she’d been less than completely honest?

But his gaze flicked past Charlotte’s again. ‘Most of the time,’ he added.

All the time, Charlotte suspected. This pretence they were engaged in was an aberration. Sure, Nico had approached it as an amusing diversion but any control had been lost very quickly, hadn’t it? At about the time he’d pushed that ring onto her finger, probably.

No wonder he was feeling uncomfortable but Lady Geraldine didn’t seem to pick up on the loaded comment. ‘I’m ready to go,’ she announced. ‘I want as much time to enjoy seeing everybody else dressed up as I can before I start feeling too old and tired.’

Or before she felt too sick and sore? Charlotte followed Nico as he carefully escorted Lady Geraldine through the rocking carriages towards the dining cars. She needed a break, she said, when they reached the bar car. She wanted to sit for a few minutes and enjoy listening
to the piano. And…how nice…her friend Winsome was sitting at one of the side-facing seats and seemed to be saving space for her. Perhaps Charlotte could order a nice cocktail for her?

Charlotte perused the cocktail menu while Nico made sure her grandmother was seated comfortably. Heavens, but there were a lot to choose from. She’d never even heard of a Moscow Mule or a Planters Punch. Both her grandmother’s favourites were there, though, so all she really needed to choose between was a Singapore Sling or a Gin Fizz.

Nico came back to the bar as she ordered a Gin Fizz. When he was only a step or two away the train gave a sudden and rather dramatic lurch. A cry rippled through the carriage as people spilt their drinks but the pianist didn’t miss a beat of the Viennese waltz he was playing. And Nico’s arm was right there to steady Charlotte as she lost her balance.

It was the first time he’d touched her since that almost kiss when they’d been interrupted earlier and it seemed to ignite a peculiar magic. How else could Charlotte explain the fact that a steadying touch morphed into an embrace that moved in time to the music?

They were dancing?

Yes. On a minuscule patch of blue carpet, in the space between the bar and the piano, Nico was very competently leading her through a confined version of a Viennese waltz. Charlotte could have laughed out loud. Except that this was giving her the same kind of feeling that she’d had when she’d woken from that deep sleep in Nico’s arms, and she wanted to recapture that bliss for just a few seconds.

So, instead of holding her head in the correct position for a waltz as she’d been trained to do in those lessons Gran had insisted on when she’d been a teenager, Charlotte let herself droop enough to put her head on Nico’s shoulder. And he tilted his head so that it rested against hers. It was no waltz now. Just a slow, close dance.

To anyone watching, and no doubt that included Lady Geraldine and her friend, they must look like a couple madly in love. Nobody, meaning Nico, needed to know that it was actually genuine on her part now.

And maybe that was a good thing. Maybe…just a very small maybe…this didn’t have to end when they got off the train in London tomorrow.

No. That tiny, unbidden seed of hope died away as Charlotte remembered Nico saying he never wanted marriage or children. That she was safe because she was so completely not his type of woman.

Oh, well…at least if Gran lived long enough for her to have to confess that the relationship wasn’t going to work long term, she wouldn’t have to pretend to be heartbroken, would she?

Oh, God…she really was in trouble now.

Released from Nico’s arms to a round of applause from the crowded carriage, Charlotte headed back to the bar. She was going to order one of those potent-sounding cocktails for herself because she needed something strong if she was going to cope with the rest of this journey. She needed some bottled courage. Or stamina.

Moving towards Lady Geraldine’s seat to wait for the bartender to bring the drinks, Charlotte found that introductions were being made. Winsome’s grandson Connor was with a young woman called Kelsie, who
was now sitting beside Lady Geraldine. They were discussing seating arrangements.

‘Winsome and I have arranged a table for ourselves,’ Lady Geraldine said. ‘We don’t want to bore you young things with our gossip.’

The implications were immediately obvious. Nico and Connor exchanged a glance as if they were measuring each other up and considering the prospect of a foursome for dinner. Kelsie was watching the older women as if she knew there was more coming. And there was.

‘So, instead, we have three tables,’ Lady Geraldine smiled. ‘One for each couple.’

Charlotte almost groaned aloud. ‘I don’t think you’re allowed to change arrangements like that, are you, Gran?’

Lady Geraldine merely tapped the side of her nose. ‘Wait and see where the maître d’ puts us all,’ she murmured. And then she winked at Winsome. ‘Being old doesn’t entirely deprive us of our ability to charm men into doing what we want, does it, Winnie?’

‘Not at all, dear. As you say, age is only an attitude.’

Charlotte caught Connor’s gaze and his expression said it all. This was a done deal and there was absolutely no point trying to make changes now. She was now faced with the prospect of being alone with Nico for a dinner that might go on for hours. An intimate, romantic kind of dinner. Her heart sank. One strong cocktail was not going to be enough.

Nico had to admire the persuasive powers of older women. Tables had to be at a premium on the train, even if there was more than one sitting for dinner, but
here they were at a table that could seat four people and it was only set for two.

It was beautifully set with crisp, white linen, sparkling silverware and immaculate crystal that caught the soft light of the Tiffany lamp on the window side of the table. The carriage might be crowded with other diners but it felt like he and Charlotte were enclosed in a bubble of their own. He was glad that she hadn’t had a different dress to wear because this silver sheath was gorgeous and so very appropriate for the season. It made her eyes look like a dark shade of silver instead of grey. Or was that because they were catching such a warm glow from the light?

Or perhaps it was the champagne he had ordered. She certainly seemed to be enjoying the Moët, even if she wasn’t clearing her plate with each delicious course that arrived. He had polished off the entrée and then demolished the main course of traditional roast turkey with chestnut stuffing.

Conversation had proved easier than he’d expected, having been deprived of Jendi’s company. They’d started out with the practical matter of sleeping arrangements for the night.

‘I’ll stay in the bar for a while,’ Nico had told Charlotte. ‘And then I’ll come back to the cabin and sleep on the seat. You can close the connecting door when you go to bed.’

He’d asked if she knew what would happen tomorrow.

‘We get to Paris around dawn,’ she’d told him. ‘When we get to the end of the French line for the Orient Express, we have to get off and there are special buses that
we stay on for the channel crossing. The English branch of the train takes us into Victoria Station. I think we get in at about five p.m.’

As the plates for the main course were taken away, Charlotte allowed her champagne glass to be refilled. Did her smile look a little forced as she held it up to Nico in a toast?

‘What will you do?’ she asked brightly. ‘When we’ve arrived back in London? For Christmas Eve, I mean.’

Nico shrugged. ‘I expect I’ll go to work and catch up on any inpatients. I’m covering a big area for the next few days. I like to give my colleagues as much time as possible to be with their families over Christmas. And you? What will you be doing?’

Charlotte turned her head to look out the window, although there was nothing to see in the darkness.

‘I’ll go out to Gran’s. Her estate is a good hour out of London. I’ll stay with her for Christmas Day, of course, and then it’ll be time to face up to what needs facing up to.’

Jendi’s cancer. Dio…but it was going to be a difficult time ahead for Charlotte. Nico wanted to reach across the table and catch her hands. To offer to be there for her as a friend in the weeks or months ahead.

But this faux relationship wasn’t supposed to continue, was it? Charlotte wouldn’t want it to. Having her in a committed relationship with a potential family in the future might be at the top of her grandmother’s bucket list but Nico could still hear the vehemence in Charlotte’s voice when she’d declared that it was never going to happen.

So he said nothing. Instead, he followed Charlotte’s
example and stared out of the window. There were sparkles of light swirling outside in a mesmerising kaleidoscope.

‘Look at that,’ he exclaimed. ‘It’s snowing. It’ll be a white Christmas for some people.’

‘I love a white Christmas,’ Charlotte said softly. ‘It makes you feel like you’re living inside a Christmas card. I think the best Christmas I ever had was one where Gran and I got completely snowed in and the electricity went off. We ended up cooking the chipolatas that were supposed to go in with the turkey on sticks on the open fire. I was only about nine but I was so impressed that Gran knew how to do stuff like get the fire going and cook sausages.’

‘Sounds special.’

‘What’s the best Christmas you remember, Nico? Was it white?’

‘No. It never snowed in our part of Italy.’ Funny that to remember his best Christmas he automatically wiped out any year after he’d been whisked off to Ireland. ‘It would get cold, though. I think the best Christmas I can remember was outside. We had a terrace with a long wooden table that was under grapevines. In the summer it was leafy and cool and in the winter there was an open fireplace big enough to roast an ox. For some reason we had Christmas dinner outside that year. Possibly because so many family members had gathered. There were aunts and uncles and cousins I never knew I had.’

‘How old were you?’

‘About six.’

‘Did you have turkey?’

Nico shook his head. ‘That wasn’t traditional. We
have the feast of the seven fishes on Christmas Eve and then on Christmas Day we have lots of pasta and then roast meat like chicken or beef. And potatoes.’ He frowned. The food hadn’t been what had made that Christmas memorable.

‘There was music,’ he continued softly. ‘My father was at the head of the table and he was
so
happy. Between courses he would drag my mother away from the kitchen and dance with her in front of the fire. There were so many people. So much laughter. So much love…’

‘Family.’ The word was a whisper and Charlotte’s eyes were as bright as he’d ever seen them when Nico turned from the view of the snow. ‘It’s what Christmas is all about, isn’t it?’

‘It was once…’ Nico had to clear his throat. The memory of that particular Christmas was disturbing because it evoked a yearning he’d thought he’d put behind him many, many years ago. Part of the heartbreak he would never want to inflict on a child. Or a woman. Or have inflicted on himself ever again.

Dessert of a classic plum duff with crème anglaise and brandy butter came and went with a noticeably more sombre mood at their table. It was a relief when a steward came to tell him that Lady Geraldine was ready to be escorted back to her cabin whenever it was convenient for him.

‘Or I can arrange another escort?’ The steward tilted his head to include Charlotte. ‘If you and your fiancé wish to stay longer?’

‘No.’ It was Charlotte who spoke up quickly. ‘We
can finish now.’ She didn’t meet Nico’s eyes. ‘If that’s all right with you, Nico?’

‘
Sì
. Of course it is.

The last thing Charlotte expected when she returned to her suite after helping her grandmother get undressed and settled into her bunk for the night was to find Nico still there.

She had thought he would be long gone. Having a nightcap in the bar and ready to wait until he thought she was safely asleep before coming back to get what rest he could on the seat in this compartment. Not that she expected to get much sleep herself but it would have been a relief to shut the connecting door and have a space entirely to herself for a good few hours. No chance of losing control and making a fool of herself that way.

Now she was distinctly unsettled. Not only was Nico here but he’d taken off his dinner jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt. His bow-tie was undone as well, hanging down beside the undone top buttons of his shirt. His hair was rumpled, as if he’d thrust his fingers through it more than once, and it was long enough since he’d shaved to give his jaw a dark shadow. He looked ever so slightly disreputable lounging on the padded upholstery of the seat.