The Doctor and the Debutante

‘Oh, you kind of learn about the history of art.’ She flushed again. Talk about stating the obvious. But this man was addling her brain and making her tongue-tied. ‘I mean it’s learning about artists—like Michelangelo, for example, how he became a sculptor, all the art he did and why that’s considered important.’

There was a pause and Dante frowned. ‘What do you do with this degree when you are finished studying?’

Good question and not one that she wanted to answer. People in her position weren’t expected to do proper jobs. Modelling was okay, as long as it wasn’t glamour, so was PR, as was fundraising. Even these were considered to be ways of passing the time until marriage and children came along. Her role was to run her father’s house and carry out all the duties and responsibilities that went with her title.

She realised Dante was still waiting for an answer to his question.

‘Actually, when I was a little girl I dreamt of becoming a teacher.’

‘So, why didn’t you?’

Why hadn’t she? Because she’d always known that her life had been mapped out in an entirely different direction. One over which she had no control.

‘It was just a childish dream. Nothing more.’

Brown eyes locked onto hers. ‘It is good to dream, no?’ He was studying her as if she puzzled him.

No, it wasn’t good to dream. Not for her. It only made real life more difficult.

‘We all have to live in the real world, don’t we?’ she replied lightly.

‘Have you been out to the country?’ Alice was relieved when he changed the subject.

She shook her head. She had been too absorbed sightseeing and exploring all the touristy attractions Florence had to offer to venture further afield.

‘If you have not been in the countryside, then you have not seen Tuscany properly. Maybe I will show you.’

Alice wiped the palms of her hands on her trousers. He was only being polite. He would probably forget about her the moment he left her.

‘You said you live in the mountains,’ she asked. ‘But you work in Florence?’

Again that expressive shrug of the shoulders. ‘I work here, at this hospital, but my home is about forty-five kilometres that way, near where Sofia lives.’ He gestured behind him. ‘How long do you have left here in Tuscany?’ he continued.

‘Another week. I’ll be sorry to leave.’

‘You are staying in Florence?’

Alice nodded. ‘A friend of my father’s has a home here. He’s happy for me to use it while I’m visiting.’

‘You are here on your own?’ Dante seemed a little shocked.

‘Yes, but I don’t mind. In fact I kind of like it.’

Dante looked disbelieving.

‘Would you like to meet me in the Piazza della Signoria tomorrow?’ he asked. ‘You can’t leave without seeing the real Tuscany and I would like to show you more of my country.’

Alice shuffled uncomfortably in her seat. Part of her wanted to spend more time with him. Another part knew it was a crazy idea. What could she and this man possibly have in common?

‘I’m not sure. I don’t think it’s a good idea.’

He looked at her with languid eyes. ‘I think it is a very good idea.’

One thing she could say about him, he didn’t give up easily.

‘I was in London once for a month and a family there looked after me,’ he said. ‘I would like to show the same hospitality to our visitors. To you. And you helped Sofia when you didn’t need to. You could have walked away like everyone else, but you didn’t.’

Alice flushed. Despite what she had just told herself, it was disappointing that he felt it was his duty to show her around.

Whatever his reasons, seeing him again was too risky. He was different from any man she had ever met and never before had a man made her pulse race the way Dante did. The last thing she was looking for was a holiday romance. She smiled. She was getting way ahead of herself. Someone like him was bound to have a girlfriend, although she’d already noticed he wasn’t wearing a wedding ring.

The doors to the department opened and a distracted couple rushed in. Instinctively Alice knew these were Sofia’s parents, not least because the little girl was almost a carbon copy of her mother.

Dante jumped to his feet. ‘Please meet me there at three o’clock tomorrow, I am working until two,’ he told Alice as he went to intercept the distressed couple. After talking to them for a few moments, he led them towards the lift. Alice guessed he was taking them to see their little girl. Alice stared after his retreating back. The arrogance of the man! He hadn’t even waited to hear her reply.

Alice was a nervous wreck by the time three o’clock the next day came. She had braided her hair, noticing that over the last week the sun had lightened it to almost the colour of corn which in turn emphasised the unusually light green colour of her eyes. She had dressed simply, in a crisp white blouse and light trousers. Apart from a slick of pale lipstick she didn’t bother with any other make-up. For the umpteenth time she wondered if Dante would come. It was entirely possible he had forgotten all about her.

But he was waiting for her on the same steps that she’d been sitting on the previous day.

‘Ciao, Alice,’ he said, and kissed her on either cheek. ‘I thought we could have a picnic down on the river then I will take you to see more of Florence. How does that sound?’

He took her to the river bank and they sat on the grass. He pointed to a woman rowing on the river. ‘It is like I do. The boat I row is for a single person, but I know where I can get one for two. Maybe tomorrow I can take you?’

Alice’s pulse skipped a beat. He was already planning their next date.

She looked down at the effort Dante had put into their picnic. There was a round of cheese, several types of cold meats, Tuscan bread and olives, as well as fresh salad leaves. This wasn’t lunch, this was a feast.

‘The olives and salad come from our smallholding and my mother bakes the bread herself. Of course, there is a trattoria not far from here. We could go there instead.’

Alice shook her head. She had had her fill of restaurants, fancy or otherwise. It was perfect here in the sun.

‘Bene, we will eat then we will have time for me to show you something.’

The food Dante had brought was so delicious she found she had eaten more than her fair share.

‘I’m sorry. I’ve eaten more than I should, but it was so delicious.’

‘You must never apologise for enjoying food.’ He leaned back on his elbows and regarded her through slitted eyes. ‘Most women, they are too thin—as if they are starving. All the men I know prefer women who have some curves. Like Botticelli’s Venus.’ He grinned at her. ‘Have you seen any statues in Florence where the women look like men? I don’t think so.’

The look in his eyes was doing all sorts of weird things to her stomach. Hastily she took another forkful of salad and nearly choked.

Dante sat up, looking concerned.

‘Are you okay?’

How attractive, Alice thought furiously. Spitting bits of lettuce leaf all over him. And right enough, to her mortification, Dante lifted his hand and very gently removed something from the corner of her mouth.

‘That’s better.’ He was laughing at her and Alice was tempted to abandon her lunch and run back to the villa. It was the first time she had ever felt gauche and awkward. Until she’d come to Italy, she had used her expensive clothes and jewellery almost like an invisible cloak to hide her natural shyness.