A Venetian Affair: A Venetian Passion / In the Venetian's Bed / A Family For Keeps

He threw out his hands. ‘This was retaliation. I came to you to arrange our lives to spend as much time together as possible, and you accuse me of having another woman!’

‘I’m sorry,’ she said penitently.

‘Bene.’ His eyes narrowed to an unsettling gleam. ‘I insist that you make this up to me.’

She smiled demurely. ‘How can I do that?’

‘You are flirting with me, Laura,’ he said, delighted. ‘You know exactly how. If you have forgotten, I will take great pleasure in showing you. But not,’ he added with deep regret, ‘until next time we meet. Tonight I am afraid to hurt you if I even kiss you.’

‘I don’t think one kiss would hurt too much,’ she whispered, and Domenico took her in his arms and laid his lips on hers with gentleness that transformed into warmth as she responded with fervour fuelled by relief that he was here and she was in his arms where she belonged. When he released her mouth at last he drew her close, careful of her injured face.

‘Tell me you are sorry for being so cruel to me,’ he commanded unevenly.

‘You got off lightly. When Fen told me you had a woman in your life I was ready to kill you,’ she said fiercely, and Domenico gave a deep-throated growl of male satisfaction.

‘You were jealous!’ He kissed her nose. ‘I like this very much.’

She smiled ruefully. ‘It was a first for me, and I hated it.’

He took a look around the small room, and tossed his jacket on a chair. ‘Come. Let us sit down together and I shall tell you why your jealousy, much as it delights me, was unnecessary.’ He drew her down on the sofa, smiling as she apologised for its size. ‘I am glad of it because we must sit very close together.’

Laura was glad, too. It was bliss to sit with Domenico’s arm round her, breathing in the scent of him. The scent she would know in the dark. ‘So why did Jess Forli think there was someone in your life?’

‘She rang me to tell me where to stay for Fenella’s wedding.’ Domenico’s arm tightened. ‘And Jess asked me, as she always does, if I had someone special in my life yet. And this time I said yes, but would not give her a name.’ He turned her face up to his. ‘I thought it best to consult you first, tesoro.’

Laura stared at him. ‘You mean it was me?’

He kissed her parted mouth fleetingly. ‘Of course it was you!’

‘I was jealous of myself?’

‘Who else would it be? I am in love with you, Laura, only you. And because you wanted to kill me,’ he added with satisfaction, ‘you are in love with me, yes?’

‘Hopelessly!’

Domenico shook his head. ‘Our situation is not hopeless at all, innamorata.’

‘It was after you stormed out of my house the day of the wedding!’

His eyes kindled. ‘I came to comfort you, and you accused me of lies and threw money at me. What man would not be angry?’

‘Sorry, Domenico,’ she said, so meekly he laughed and tugged on her hair.

‘So meek and mild, but I know better.’ He raised her hand to his lips, then stood up and pulled her with him. ‘Now, tell me where we can dine. I am hungry.’

Laura shook her head firmly. ‘I’m not going out like this.’ She grinned. ‘I do a great omelette—remember?’

‘I will never forget. And I will enjoy another very much.’ He took her in his arms and rubbed his cheek against her hair. ‘I am hungry for so much more than food, Laura, but I am afraid to hurt you.’

She tipped her head back to look at him. ‘It didn’t hurt when you kissed me. And my ankle doesn’t hurt when I’m lying down.’

Domenico’s breathing quickened. ‘You mean this?’

‘With all my heart,’ she assured him breathlessly, and smiled into his blazing eyes as he picked her up and carried her into the bedroom.

He undressed her as though he were unwrapping a priceless gift, and made love to her with exquisite gentleness that was just as rapturous in its own way as the heat and passion of the first time. And later, after sharing a vast omelette with her, Domenico made it clear to Laura that in future their lives must be arranged to allow as much time together as humanly possible.

‘If you love me, carissima,’ he said as he finally left her, ‘come to me in Venice very soon.’

‘I do, and I will,’ she promised, and stood on tiptoe for one last kiss.

The surprise visit from Domenico did more for Laura’s face and frame of mind than any medication. Within days her face was less painful, soon she was able to disguise her fading bruises with cosmetics, and there were no more problems with concentration during her working day. She received postcards from Abby in France, from her mother in the Lakes, and the newlyweds in Italy, but her regular phone calls from Domenico were the highlights of her days. She was so much happier with life it caused comment on the trading floor at the bank, with demands about who was the lucky guy.

‘I wondered why he wanted your London address,’ said her mother, when she heard the phone was a present from Domenico. ‘If you’ve kept it I take it things are more cordial between you now?’

‘Much more. He came to see me and explained a few things.’

‘Did he, indeed? I take it there is no lady in his life?’

‘Other than me, no. So I’m off to Venice again once I can get more time off. I shan’t need a hotel; I’ll stay with Domenico in his apartment.’

‘Well, well, things are more cordial.’

‘He rings me up a lot to make sure they stay that way. How’s Janet?’

‘She’s wearing me out. I haven’t done so much walking in years.’

Laura laughed. ‘You’ll be fit as a fiddle by the time you come home. And Abby’s obviously having a ball in France by her postcards. I’m glad. She deserves it.’

Domenico was unable to leave Venice again at the height of the tourist season, and Laura, wanting more than a snatched weekend break, had to wait until the middle of September before she could take more time off from the bank. In the meantime she’d been home to Stavely for a celebration dinner to mark the newlyweds’ return and admire the wedding presents, and Isabel and Abby had come to London for a day so that the three of them could hit the shops together to stock Abby up for college.

‘At last!’ exclaimed Domenico, when Laura told him her flight was booked. ‘I am tired of waiting. It is a very long time since we were together.’

Laura could have told him to the minute just how long. ‘Can you keep the entire week free?’

‘Every second of it, carissima. Is your face truly healed now?’

‘Like new,’ she assured him.

‘Ah, Laura, now that my time of waiting is nearly over I cannot wait to hold you in my arms again.’

‘Just two more weeks,’ she said huskily.

‘I will be waiting at Marco Polo.’

‘In a less impatient mood than last time, I hope!’

He laughed softly. ‘I shall be even more impatient to rush you to a boat again, but this time to a water taxi, for the fastest journey possible to my apartment.’