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

Laura had expected to walk back to her hotel the way she came, via the floodlit Piazza San Marco, but Domenico took her back along silent, dimly lit alleys punctuated by bridges. He pointed out landmarks and gave her the names of the different calles as they strolled, and eventually, when they were on territory that was beginning to feel familiar, he paused on a bridge to point out the moon’s reflection in the water.

‘By day it is best not to linger on our bridges, but at night when it is quiet we may do so for a moment. In the past there were no railings,’ he informed her. ‘This meant taking much care at night.’

She gave a sudden chuckle, and he took her hand and looked down into her face.

‘What amuses you, Laura?’

‘I was just thinking that to a practical soul like me your city is too romantic for words, Domenico.’

‘Ah, but Venezia is not always kind to us as she is tonight,’ he assured her. ‘We have fog and rain and floods in winter.’

‘I can’t imagine it right now.’

‘Then you must come back again to Venice and see for yourself,’ he said, and drew her nearer.

‘I must get back to the hotel right now,’ she said hastily.

‘Let us say goodnight here first.’ He took her gently by the shoulders and kissed her on both cheeks, looked down into her eyes for a moment, then bent his head to capture her mouth in a kiss of unexpected tenderness.

‘I was told that I’d have no problem with the average Italian male,’ she said breathlessly when he raised his head. Not that there was anything average about Domenico Chiesa.

He smiled and took her hand to resume walking. ‘One kiss is a problem?’

‘I suppose not.’

‘It will be a problem for me if you now refuse my assistance with your shopping.’

‘I won’t.’ Laura grinned at him and he laughed, his hand tightening on hers. ‘Find me bargains and I forget the kiss.’

‘But I shall not,’ he said, with such a theatrical sigh she laughed at him.

‘You expect me to believe that?’

‘It is the truth,’ he assured her. ‘I shall lie awake all night thinking of the touch of your lips against mine.’

She chuckled. ‘And where will you spend this sleepless night? At the hotel you work in?’

He shook his head. ‘I have a small apartment right here in San Marco. Tonight I shall sleep—or not sleep—only a short distance away from you, Miss Laura Green.’ He smiled down at her and raised her hand to his lips. ‘I have enjoyed this evening very much. I shall call for you at nine tomorrow and we shall eat breakfast together. Sleep well.’

Chapter Two

LAURA found it hard to sleep at all for a while. The long afternoon nap was partly to blame, but Domenico’s kiss had rather more to do with it. She frowned in the darkness. If this was the effect Venice was having on her it was a good thing she wasn’t staying long.

After her restless night Laura woke late next morning and rushed through a shower, slapped on moisturiser and lipstick, wove her hair into a loose braid, pulled on a mint-green T-shirt and white cotton trousers and raced down to the reception hall to find Domenico, in jeans with a shirt that matched his eyes, talking to Signora Rossi.

‘Buon giorno, Laura,’ he said, smiling, and took away what breath she had left by kissing her on both cheeks. ‘Did you sleep well?’

‘Like a baby,’ she lied.

‘Then let us begin.’

During breakfast, which she enjoyed all the more for sitting down to eat it, Laura told Domenico what she had in mind.

‘I’ve been reading up about shopping in my guidebook, so I’ve made a list. First priority is a pair of the velvet slippers worn here for Carnival for my mother.’

‘And for your father?’

Her eyes fell. ‘My father’s dead.’

‘Mi dispiace!’ said Domenico swiftly, and laid his hand on hers.

‘You didn’t know. Now,’ she added briskly, ‘where do we start?’

Shopping with Domenico Chiesa was a very pleasant experience. He took Laura to places she would have had no hope of finding on her own, and seemed to enjoy it all as much as she did. He hunted down an authentic gold carnival mask, helped Laura choose pretty, inexpensive Venetian glass earrings and T-shirts in vivid colours printed with the Venezia logo, and at last took her to the stalls at the foot of the Ponte delle Guglie on Strada Nuova for crimson velvet slippers for her mother.

‘And now,’ said Domenico firmly, just when Laura felt ready to drop rather than shop any more, ‘we must eat.’

She gave him a pleading look. ‘Domenico, please let me pay for lunch.’

He smiled and shook his head. ‘It is already arranged. And you are tired so we shall go by water taxi.’

A journey in a sleek white motorboat was such a different experience from one by vaporetto the journey was over far too soon for Laura.

‘Thank you, that was fun,’ she said as Domenico helped her off the boat. ‘But I know it was also expensive so I hope we’re eating in a cheaper place than Harry’s Bar.’

‘I can assure you that we are. With your permission I shall give you lunch in my private retreat.’

Domenico’s retreat was an apartment in a converted palazzo, with a view of the Grand Canal and the Santa Maria della Salute church. When he ushered her into a compact sitting room with tall windows and apricot walls Laura felt a stab of envy as she took in the gleaming wood floors and white-covered sofas, the shelves with books and the mirrors everywhere.

‘This is just lovely.’

‘I am glad you like it.’ He laid her shopping bags on one of the sofas. ‘I thought you might prefer a quiet meal here in peace after your shopping.’

Domenico’s dining room was small, but opened onto a balcony with a view of the Grand Canal. He set a meal on the table with speed and efficiency, which impressed Laura as she sat down to Fontina cheese and San Daniele ham served with ripe red tomatoes and salad leaves.

‘This is perfect. Exactly what I need. Shopping is tiring, even here in Venice.’ She smiled at him gratefully as she buttered a roll. ‘I’m so grateful for your help, Domenico. You took me to places I wouldn’t have found on my own.’ And because of it she had spent far less money than expected.

‘I was happy to help,’ he assured her. ‘Would you like wine?’

‘Water, please. If I drink wine at this hour I’ll need another sleep, and it’s a sin to waste too much time in Venice in bed!’

‘Alone, certainly,’ he agreed, and laughed at her look. ‘Laura, per favore! Is that one small, sweet kiss to blame for such dark suspicion? I intend you no harm, I swear.’

‘Oh, I know that!’ She wagged a finger at him. ‘If you did the boss wouldn’t like it.’

He looked blank. ‘The boss?’

‘Lorenzo Forli!’