Authors: Jayne Castel
“The restaurant, where I work, is
across the river, in a street behind Pitti Palace,” Marco explained. “I hardly
ever get the chance to come here for a meal these days but, luckily, I have
tonight off.”
Vanessa raised her glass of local red
wine in a toast and smiled. “I’m glad you do. Thank you for bringing me here.”
“So you said this is your first visit
to Italy,” Marco dug his fork into the plate of
tagliatelle
he had
ordered. “How long are you staying?”
“Just for the week,” Vanessa replied,
deciding that it was best if she did not mention the exact circumstances of her
holiday. “It’s wonderful, I can’t believe I’ve never managed to get here
before. I’ll certainly be back.”
Marco smiled, his gaze locking with
hers. “I hope you will too.”
Vanessa suddenly felt a little short
of breath, as if she had been running. The pasta was delicious but she was so
overcome by a rush of desire for the man sitting opposite her that she could
have been eating sawdust for all she cared.
Careful, Vanessa
, warned a
niggling voice within her.
You’re falling for a complete stranger
.
Ignoring the voice, Vanessa held Marco’s gaze. She had never felt like this; it
was as if she had just taken a powerful drug. She felt dizzy with lust. If they
had not been in a public place she would have thrown herself across the table
into his arms.
“So,” Vanessa took a deep breath and
forced her gaze away from his, “tell me about your life. Are you from Florence?
Do you like it here?”
“I’m from a town called Lucca, not
far from Florence,” Marco explained. “I came here for work ten years ago and
never left. Yes, I do like it here, and I love my job, even if it’s exhausting
at times.”
“The hours must be a killer,” Vanessa
sympathised. “You’re working while everyone else is out enjoying themselves.”
Marco nodded, taking a sip of wine.
“Yes, that’s one of the downsides of my job – but not tonight.” He gave her
another smile and Vanessa’s breath caught once more.
Careful Vanessa
, the voice
warned once more.
Once you take this path there’s no way back.
Suddenly, she did not care.
They ate slowly, taking bites
in-between a steady stream of conversation. They talked about everything –
nearly everything, for Vanessa avoided any mention of her love-life. In
contrast, Marco told her that his last girlfriend had been nearly a year
earlier. They had been together for nearly five years but their relationship
ended once she moved away for work and they ended up growing apart. Since then,
Marco had thrown himself into work, taking extra shifts to fill up his suddenly
empty weekends.
Eventually, the trattoria closed for
the evening, and they were forced to move on. When Marco hesitantly suggested
that they have a nightcap at his place, Vanessa agreed.
You should be playing this
cool,
the voice returned to torment her.
You shouldn’t be going back to his flat
on the first date.
Shut-up
, Vanessa
pushed her conscience aside and followed Marco up the two flights of stairs to
his flat.
When I want your opinion, I’ll ask for it.
Marco lived in a tidy, if spartan,
studio flat. Vanessa could see, at a glance, that he loved cooking. Although
the living space was functional, with a sofa-bed, a small table, chairs and a
bookcase; the small kitchenette was packed – wall to ceiling – with cooking
utensils and ingredients.
“Sorry about the mess,” Marco scooped
a pile of washing off the floor and dumped it into the hamper next to the
bathroom door, before giving Vanessa a sheepish smile. “I wasn’t expecting a
guest.”
He poured them tiny glasses of
limoncello
– the delicious lemon liqueur from the Amalfi coast. Vanessa had
heard of the liqueur, but never tasted it.
“It’s like a dose of sunshine in a
glass,” she enthused. “Delicious!”
They finished their liqueurs and sat
chatting on the sofa. All the while, Vanessa was aware of his proximity, his
heat, and the faint spice of his aftershave. She had never felt this attracted
to Richard, not even in the beginning. It was as if a magnet, powerful and
irresistible, was pulling her towards Marco. She did not have the will to fight
it.
One moment they were talking, the
next she was in his arms and his mouth was devouring hers.
Moments later, they were both naked.
Marco gently pushed her back on the
sofa and lay against her. She could feel him trembling, such was his need for
her. Vanessa entwined her body with his, her fingers tangling in his hair,
their tongues duelling.
Passion washed over her in a hot
tide, sweeping her with it. She clung to it, refusing to be left behind. His
mouth moved like fire over her body and when he entered her she gasped at the
sheer heat of it. He moved gently within her at first, until she began to arch
against him and call his name. Then, all restraint gone, he gave in to his
passion.
Afterwards, Vanessa lay cradled in
his arms and cried – not from sadness, but happiness. She had never thought
love-making could be so beautiful; and it made it her realise what she had been
missing. Marco held her tightly against her, whispering endearments in Italian
into her hair, his arms clasped about her, as if he was afraid she might slip
away from him.
***
The pale light of dawn filtered in
through the cracks in the shutters. Vanessa awoke gently and snuggled within
the circle of Marco’s arms. He had held her all night, and she had never felt
so protected.
“
Buongiorno principessa
,”
Marco stirred and propped himself up on one elbow, staring sleepily down at
her. “Good morning, princess.”
“Good morning yourself,” Vanessa
murmured, tracing his cheek with her finger. “You’re still here?”
He chuckled at that. “Well, since
this is my house, that’s not surprising.”
“I mean, you’re not a dream.”
“No – I’m not,” he kissed her
tenderly. “And I’m relieved to see you aren’t either.”
Marco sat up and stretched, and
Vanessa followed suit.
“What’s the time?” She asked him,
stifling a yawn.
“Still very early – 6.30am.”
“I should take a shower.”
“You can have one here if you want?”
Vanessa shook her head. “I need to
change my clothes, I should really head back to the hotel.”
Marco nodded before kneeling down so
that their gazes were level.
“Do you want to have breakfast
together after you’ve showered and changed? I don’t have to work until after
lunch. I’d like to show you some more of Florence today, if you’re free.”
Vanessa wrapped her arms around his
neck and kissed him languorously. “Of course I’m free – I’d love to.”
Dressed in yesterday’s blue shift
dress, with her new suede jacket on to ward of the morning’s chill, Vanessa
walked down the street towards her hotel. No doubt, reception would wonder
where she had been last night, but she did not care. She felt as if she were
walking a metre off the ground this morning. Her stomach curled with excitement
at the thought of seeing Marco again in just two hours. She had arranged to
meet him outside the hotel.
In her hotel room, Vanessa had a hot
shower before dressing in a denim skirt and short-sleeved pink shirt. After she
had dried her hair, she left it loose around her shoulders. She was ready, and
still had an hour to spare before Marco arrived, so Vanessa sat down on the bed
and pulled her mobile phone out of her bag.
She switched it on and found two text
messages waiting for her.
Vanessa started to read. As she did
so, her euphoria slowly dissolved.
Both texts were from Richard. The
first one read:
Where are you? I’m going out of my mind with worry? Why
didn’t you fly back to the UK?
Vanessa read the second text and felt
sick to her stomach.
I’m so sorry Vanessa. I’ve
made a terrible mistake. I didn’t mean anything I said – I was stressed with
work but I should never have taken it out on you. Tara means nothing to me.
Please give me a call and I’ll make everything right, I promise. Love always,
Richard.
She could not believe it – after
everything he had said, Richard was sorry. Had Tara rejected him? Whatever the
reason, Vanessa was not interested. His texts made her feel manipulated, used
and sick.
All at once, she hated men – all of
them. Suddenly, she just wanted to go home and pretend Richard and Marco did
not exist. Sure, last night had been wonderful, magical even, but it could not
last. Men were like Richard; cruel one moment, and kind the next. She could not
bear for Marco – sweet, sexy Marco – to turn out like all the others.
She had to leave. Now.
Blinking back tears, Vanessa switched
off her mobile, threw it into her bag and stuffed her clothes and toiletries
into her trolley case. Then, without a backwards glance, she rushed from the
room.
Marco glanced at his watch and
quickened his pace. He was due to meet Vanessa outside her hotel in a couple of
minutes and did not want to keep her waiting. His eyes stung from lack of sleep
and he knew he would pay for it later at work, but he did not care. Last night
had been unexpected, and wonderful. He needed to find a way to keep Vanessa
Woods permanently in his life.
Reaching the
pensione
, Marco
decided to wait for Vanessa at reception. He stepped inside and hovered near
the doorway.
“Excuse me?” the elderly woman at
reception called out to him after a few moments. “Are you waiting for someone?”
“Yes, one of the guests, Signorina
Woods.”
“The English girl? The blonde?”
“I guess so, that sounds like her,”
Marco gave the woman a quizzical look. “Why?”
“You’ve just missed her. She just
left – three days early too. She had her suitcase with her and looked like she
was in a hurry.”
“What?” Marco went cold. Had he heard
right? Why would Vanessa leave without saying goodbye? “Where did she go?”
The elderly woman shrugged, running
an appraising eye over him as she did so. “I don’t know – most likely the train
station.”
Marco turned and barrelled through
the door, knocking over a young man with a huge backpack who was coming through
it. With a breathless apology, Marco helped the man to his feet and took off at
a run towards Santa Maria Novella station. It was only two blocks away, but
suddenly, it felt like the longest run of Marco’s life.
Vanessa glanced up at the departures
board and let out the breath she had been holding. The Eurostar for Rome was
due to arrive at platform eight in ten minutes. Her timing – for once – had
been impeccable.
She towed her suitcase behind her and
made her way over to a small white and green machine next to the platform,
where she stamped her ticket. Then, she walked down the platform, weaving
through a crowd of people, and found a spot to wait for the train.
As she waited, Vanessa struggled not
to let images of yesterday evening, and night, dominate her thoughts.
It was over. Better to finish it now,
before disappointment set in. Richard was not that different from most men, she
told herself. She was finished with them. She could not bear the thought of
Marco turning on her, like Richard had. How could she trust anyone after
Richard? She could not believe that he wanted her back. She did not believe a
word of it, although, sadly, she would have in the past.
Fresh tears stung her eyes and
Vanessa blinked them back angrily. Tears – she had shed so many of them over
men. No more.
Still, the thought of never seeing
Marco again, caused an ache deep within her chest.
“Vanessa!”
Her heart leapt at the voice, and she
turned to see Marco running towards her up the platform. Panicked, she looked
around, desperate for an escape route. Yet, there was none. She remained there,
rooted to the spot, as Marco approached. Out of breath, he stopped before her,
his eyes full of pain.
“Vanessa,” he repeated. “Why?”
“I can’t Marco,” she replied, hating
the way her voice shook. “Last night was special, but it was just one night. We
don’t know each other. You don’t know about me – if you did you wouldn’t want
me.”
“What could be so terrible that you’d
just run off without giving me an explanation?” Marco asked, frowning. “What
have you done that would make me not want you.”
Vanessa took a deep breath, aware
that they were drawing curious stares from the travellers around them. Marco
was right – he deserved an explanation.
She told him everything – from how
she had met Richard, right through to the moment he had abandoned her in San
Gimignano. Then she told him about the texts she had received from him that
morning. She left nothing out. When she finished, Marco’s face was thunderous.