The Doctor and the Debutante

The air was rich with the scent of olives as he led her by the hand through the orchard. Within a few minutes they arrived at a small whitewashed building with an ochre roof standing on its own in a little oasis of green.

Still holding her by the hand, Dante opened the door and pulled her inside. Alice only had a fleeting glimpse of a double bed before Dante was kissing her again.

Later, much later she lay with her head on his chest. He stroked her hair and murmured to her in Italian.

She traced the scar on his shoulder with the tip of her finger.

‘How did this happen?’ she asked.

‘An accident with my motorbike. Two years ago. A lorry came round on the wrong side of the road. I had to go into a ditch to miss it.’

‘You could have been killed!’ Alice said, alarmed.

‘But I wasn’t. I was hurt. A few days in hospital. It wasn’t so bad. My girlfriend at that time wasn’t happy.’

‘Have there been lots of women?’ she asked. She could have bitten her tongue the moment the words were out. Of course there had been lots of women. She could tell that from the way Dante had made love to her. As if she was precious, but also with passion and an uncanny sense of what she needed and when.

His hands paused in her hair.

‘A few. But they were not important—’ He broke off. ‘I’ve never met anyone quite like you.’

The warm glow of happiness she’d experienced since they’d made love deepened. But under the glow she felt a shiver of unease. What would he think of her when he found out she hadn’t been honest with him? She wasn’t who he thought she was. Reluctant to spoil the mood, Alice raised herself on her elbow and looked down at him. ‘Why did you decide to become a doctor?’ she asked.

He sat up and pulled her head against his chest where she could hear the strong beat of his heart. One of his hands was in her hair, the other softly caressing her neck. Everywhere he touched her sent stabs of desire coursing through her body. She hadn’t known that a simple touch on her skin could drive her wild with longing.

When his answer came his voice was deeper than ever.

‘A few years ago, I had a friend. A girl, Rosa. We had played with each other since we were children.’ His hands paused on her skin and he took a deep breath.

‘Her house was next to mine. We were always together. At school. After school. While we were growing up. Soon she was no longer a little girl but a beautiful woman.’

A stab of jealousy so strong it took her breath away ripped through Alice.

‘Did you love her?’ she asked, trying to keep her voice casual.

Dante laughed. ‘Sì, I loved her, but we were never lovers. She was like a sister to me.’ His voice grew sombre again. ‘I didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life, but she always knew what she wanted to do. To be a nurse.’ He paused and Alice knew he was remembering. ‘I stayed on the farm and she went to university. The first holiday she came back, it was as if we had never been parted. She was so excited with what she was learning. She was lit up inside. But after a few days she got sick.’

Dante’s voice was like sandpaper. Alice held her breath and waited for him to go on.

‘Everyone thought it was flu. No one was worried. Her mother phoned the doctor. He told her it wasn’t a problem, to give Rosa painkillers for the headache and fever. By the time she came out in a rash, it was too late.’

‘Meningitis?’ Alice whispered.

‘Sì. It was before the time they vaccinated against it. We called the ambulance. I knew it would take too long. I didn’t want to wait. We were losing her.’

He paused again and swallowed. ‘We put her in the car and I drove as fast as I could. But it was too late. By the time we got to the hospital, she was unconscious. I would have given my life for her, but I wasn’t able to do one thing to save her. It is why I became a doctor. I will never let anyone die because I didn’t know how to help them.’

‘I’m so sorry, Dante.’

‘You are like her in many ways. Kind and honest.’ Another spasm of guilt ran up Alice’s spine. She had to tell him.

‘You are different from other women.’ There was a note of bitterness in his voice that puzzled Alice. ‘You don’t care about material things. Clothes. Money. What other people think of you.’

Alice’s heart felt as if it were slowly being encased in ice. When she told him the truth about herself, he would see that she wasn’t the woman he thought she was. She couldn’t bear that. Was there any point in telling him? In two days she would be gone.

Propping herself on her elbow, she gazed down at his beautiful face. He was smiling.

‘You don’t really know me, Dante,’ she said softly.

‘I know enough. But there is more to learn, I think.’ The look in his eyes as they travelled across her body set nerve endings she’d never even known she had on fire. He pushed her back down on the bed and nibbled her ear. ‘You could stay in Florence longer,’ he murmured. ‘Don’t you have more time before you have to go back to university?’

Alice felt her heart plummet down to her toes. Was that all he wanted from her? Just another few days of a holiday romance—and then what?

Almost as if reading her mind, Dante pushed himself up on his powerful arms and gazed down at her. ‘Or maybe longer than that. You could stay with me,’ he said softly.

It was as if someone had dropped ice cubes down the back of her neck. He couldn’t know how impossible it was for her to do what he was asking. When he found out who she truly was, he would feel differently about her and she couldn’t bear that. Already she knew she was falling in love with him and the longer she stayed the harder she would fall. The thought terrified her. She had to leave before she got in any deeper. No matter how much she wanted to stay with him—more than anything she had ever wanted—there could never be a future for them. Her father needed her. She had her life and shallow though it was, it was the only life she knew.

Not that Dante was suggesting anything more than a few more days together.

She ran her fingertips across his chest down towards the silky hair of his abdomen. He drew a sharp breath as she let her hands travel lower. With him she felt no shyness, only a sense of wonder at the power her touch had over him.

In response he brushed his hand along the inside of her thigh and her bones turned to mush. ‘Amore mio,’ he growled, ‘I can’t think when you do that.’ His hands travelled higher up her thigh and he groaned. ‘That’s enough talking for now. We’ll talk more tomorrow.’

But Alice already knew there would be no tomorrow for them. She knew with heart-breaking certainty that they only had a few hours. She would have to make the most of every second.

CHAPTER ONE

ALICE studied herself in the full-length mirror. Her dress, a shimmer of silver, clung to her body before falling in a little train at the back. These days she no longer had to worry about revealing curves that suggested an over-enthusiastic fondness for food. Not eating tended to do that.

As soon as she’d come back to London she’d broken off with Peter, much to her father’s disappointment. Peter was everything he’d hoped for in a son-in-law. But he wasn’t Dante. Alice knew she could never marry anyone who didn’t make her feel the way Dante had, even if that meant being single for the rest of her life.

She pursed her lips as she applied deep red lipstick, trying to dispel the empty feeling that lurked somewhere deep inside. Okay, so this wasn’t how she’d envisaged her life to turn out, but she was happy, maybe not happy in that scary, intense way she had felt in Italy—she doubted she’d ever feel like that again—but she was content, wasn’t she? At least with her new, more active role with the charity she was doing some good. This fundraiser would bring in thousands of pounds for the camps for the displaced in Africa. And if she felt empty inside, as if someone had taken a giant icecream scoop and hollowed her out, didn’t lots of people feel that way? She should count her blessings, as people always said. Underneath the empty feeling was one of excitement. She was going to Africa with the charity. Maybe out there she would find the Alice she had been in Italy. Maybe, at last, she’d feel as if her life had some meaning.

She finished her make-up and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. Bless Susan, she knew exactly how do her hair so that it would stay firmly in place for the whole evening.

Alice glanced at her watch. Almost time to go.

She sighed at her image in the mirror. A pale face with dark shadows stared back at her. Had it really been a year since she had said goodbye to Dante? Tonight the guest speaker, who was doing a presentation on behalf of the charity for which this evening was being held, was a Dr Salvatore, who was coming from the same hospital where Dante had worked. When she’d seen his name on the programme, she’d contemplated slipping in a casual question to Dr Salvatore about Dante. He was bound to know him.

She knew she was torturing herself, especially if Dante turned out to be engaged or, worse still, married, but she was desperate to hear about him, even if it was only someone saying his name. When she’d left Italy without saying goodbye, she’d told herself it was for the best. So why did her heart still ache for him?

But she mustn’t think of Dante. Not tonight. Even though barely a day went past when she didn’t think of his deep brown eyes. And his smile. All that was safely in the past. She was living the life she was meant to live. Italy had been a dream. A wonderful dream. She had to look to the future.

Downstairs, the ballroom was thronging with guests. All willing to pay thousands of pounds for a seat at the dinner table, knowing that the money would be put to good use. Alice could see the top of her father’s head as he spoke animatedly to someone. Knowing him, it would be another business deal. Dad wasn’t one to waste an opportunity. Not when the heads of businesses from across the world were in this room.

The room sparkled from the hundreds of lights from the oversized chandeliers. The tables were set with the finest crystal money could buy and at each table setting there was a little Swarovski souvenir for the guests to take home. The heavy scent of lilies drifted from tall crystal vases. In the corner a string quartet was playing softly. At the end of the evening there would be a surprise for the guests as her father had flown in a famous opera singer to round off the evening. Alice couldn’t help but wonder if some of the money her father had lavished on this event could have been better spent. Given to the charity, for example. But when she’d raised the issue with him, he’d assured her that the money the evening would bring in would far outstrip the money he had lavished on this dinner. Not least as he had already personally pledged a significant sum.

The room was already packed. Diamonds flashed from throats and wrists as women in elegant evening gowns lifted glasses to their lips. The men were in dinner jackets and bow-ties, and the murmur of low voices and the occasional rumble of laughter filtered above the sound of the music.