The Amalfi Bride. Ann Major

the shadows were lengthening.

      Flowers perfumed the balmy sea breezes. The bees were gone, and the church bells were ringing. Cliffs and villas alike seemed to tumble to a dark, turquoise sea.

      Not that she was all that interested in the white yachts or Simonetta or the sparkling water or even the palazzos. She was too consumed with excitement and fear.

      “Pick up, Lucy,” she whispered, tapping a bare foot with impatience on the sun-warmed stones. She could hardly stand feeling so alone and uncertain.

      “Pick up!”

      Pacing while she waited, she spotted Nico four floors beneath her. He was also striding back and forth on a terrace near the aqua pool, looking just as impatient and upset as she felt.

      Did he want to be with her, or did he hate his work and dread the time he’d be spending with her? Or was it his conversation that had him on edge?

      She wished his phone hadn’t rung. She wished he’d look up and wave reassuringly, but his dark head was bent over the phone, and he seemed so absorbed she wondered if he’d forgotten her existence.

      His cell phone had buzzed just after he’d ordered champagne, strawberries and an assortment of cheeses, and had suggested they get into the hotel’s white, fluffy bathrobes and enjoy a drink on her balcony. When he’d recognized the caller’s name in the little blue window on his phone, he’d frowned. Then he’d cupped Regina’s chin, kissed her on the forehead, and apologized because the call was too important to ignore. He’d answered the phone with a smile and endearments in Italian and had excused himself, which had made Regina curious about the caller’s identity, and a little jealous.

      Was it a woman? A client? Whoever it was, the call was very important to him.

      Just as Regina was worrying that her attraction to Nico might be heading toward an obsession—something she’d never experienced before in her orderly, controlled life—Lucy finally answered, her voice breathless.

      “Hi!”

      Lucy was pregnant by the sperm donor who she and her partner Beth had agreed was a perfect fit for them. They had pictures of him and his children, future half siblings to their own much-wanted child, posted all over their apartment.

      “You’ll never believe where I am,” Regina began.

      She went to the closet, pulled out the painting of the little boy playing in the sand, then returned with it to her balcony.

      “Italy!” Lucy answered.

      “I mean—” Regina stared down at Nico again “—where in Italy? And you’ll never guess what I’m doing….”

      The little boy’s painted hair shone like black satin, exactly as Nico’s did.

      “You probably just got through jogging and are about to treat yourself to some tomatoes and fat-free mozzarella while you make long lists of must-see tourist attractions for tomorrow.”

      “Ravello! Which is the best place ever. I don’t think anybody has ever heard of fat-free cheese over here, either. Are you familiar with Maxfield Parrish’s paintings?”

      “I’m not sure.”

      “Ravello is like those paintings.” Regina lowered her voice. “I’ve met a man.”

      “Those are the four most dangerous words any other woman could say…especially if he’s an Italian. But then you’re you, so he’s probably smart, ambitious…”

      “He’s not! But don’t worry, this isn’t serious. He’s absolutely gorgeous, the most gorgeous man I’ve ever seen. But…”

      “But what? With you, when it comes to your men, there always has to be a but.”

      For a long moment, Regina hesitated. She almost regretted calling Lucy.

      “But? I’m waiting!”

      “I—I think he might be a gigolo.”

      “You’ve got to be kidding.”

      Regina remained silent.

      “That is such a cliché. And not a good one. Not for you! You’ve got to come home now! You’ve definitely been over there too long. You were supposed to relax, enjoy good food, art, pretty scenery, visit your grandmother in Tuscany….”

      “I think the art may be part of the problem. The sculptures here are so erotic.”

      “Pay him and then drive straight to the airport,” Lucy ordered.

      “But he’s so hot. I feel like I’m burning up.”

      “Did he slip something in your drink?”

      “No!”

      “Don’t do it! This is all because Bobby said you were uptight and frigid and because you were pushing yourself at work way too hard. You don’t have to prove you’re a hottie in disguise. You don’t! Now you know you called me because you wanted to hear the voice of reason.”

      No, Regina had called Lucy because she’d wanted to share something that felt important.

      “I think I’ve been having doubts about E-321. I think Italy has made insemination just seem way too impersonal. I’m not you, you know. I can…be with a man.”

      “We talked about this, girlfriend. E-321 has gone through numerous screenings…. Use a condom with this Italian fellow if you don’t come to your senses! What do you know about him except he’s hot and that he charges gullible women like you a bundle for the pleasure of his body? I would think there would be plenty of free, horny Italians over there.”

      “Not like him.”

      Even three stories below her, Nico’s tall, dark figure in jeans and a white shirt radiated power, assurance and masculinity. And something more.

      When he looked up and smiled warmly, her breath caught in her throat.

      She waved, as thrilled as a high-school girl with her first crush.

      “I—I feel this weird, totally powerful connection to him.”

      “And you haven’t even had your first orgasm! Not good. Run for your life! This is not a good thing.”

      “But it feels like a good thing.”

      “This is very, very bad.”

      Regina’s cell phone began to beep. She saw Susana’s name. Her flaky baby sister, who didn’t have a digital gene in her body, never called her.

      The name Susana flashed in bold blue.

      “Oh, my God! Today’s the day the twins are being christened. Susana’s calling me! She’s actually calling me—in Italy! I’ve gotta go! I totally forgot to call Susana!”

      “One word! Airplane!”

      “I’ll call you right back.”

      “That sounds like a plan!”

      Regina punched a button and took Susana’s call. There was a loud wail on Susana’s end, which meant either Regina’s niece, Gina, who’d been named after her, or one of her twin nephews was unhappy.

      “Hi, there,” Regina said, feeling guilty. “How was the christening?”

      “It’s you! It’s really you! Gina, she answered! I can’t believe I really got you…on my fourth try even! All the way to Italy. Not that you know where that is, Gina, sweetie!”

      “How’s the christening going?”

      “Everybody’s here…except you.”

      Regina’s guilt deepened.

      “We’re all out in the backyard. It’s so hot. But you know Daddy. He had to grill. Mama’s hovering to make sure he doesn’t burn the steaks like he did last time. She keeps