Modern Romance October 2019 Books 1-4. Кейт Хьюит

sera.’ It took everything she had to greet him with a smile.

      ‘Buona sera. I thought you were on a bus trip?’

      ‘No.’ She did not elaborate ‘I’m going to have a drink at the bar.’

      ‘Alone?’ Nico frowned.

      ‘Not for long hopefully!’ She smiled at her own little joke. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’ Then she corrected herself. ‘Oh, no, I won’t. You’re heading home in the morning.’

      ‘Here is my home, Aurora.’

      ‘Ah, but home is where the heart is, Nico. You know that.’

      ‘I do,’ he agreed. ‘And I shall say it again—here is my home.’

      He ordered his head to give her a nod and his legs to turn and walk off, but neither obeyed. And then, even as his common sense was screaming at him to walk away, he spoke. ‘And, given you are in my hometown, let me get you a drink.’

      He’d done it again.

      Just when she was determined to move on from him he pulled her back to him.

      Well, not this time, Aurora told herself. Yes, she would have a drink with him, but she would not be making a fool of herself again.

      He was her boss and she would hold on to that fact.

      The bar was busy and he put a hand on her upper arm to guide her through. Staff jumped into action and they were taken to a quiet corner table.

      ‘It’s so busy I thought I’d have to drink at the bar,’ Aurora said. Although that was possibly the reason he had joined her. ‘It’s lucky we got a table.’ That sounded naïve. ‘I mean, I’m glad no one was asked to move to make way for the boss.’

      ‘It would be poor form to do that to my guests, which is why this table is reserved solely for me.’

      He watched as her lips pursed and wondered what he could possibly have said to upset her, for it looked as if she was tempted to get up and walk out.

      Aurora was.

      His private table did not impress her. In fact she felt a little insulted as she wondered how many other women had sat in this very seat. How many hands had he held across this very table?’ And then she halted herself, for Nico was the last person she could imagine being affectionate.

      They ordered their drinks—a spritzer for Aurora and a red wine for Nico—and then sat in tense silence as they waited for them to arrive.

      ‘Aren’t you going to ask me how your father is?’ Aurora asked.

      ‘I spoke with him two hours ago and I see his doctor tomorrow.’

      ‘My mother is taking in his meals while I’m away. In case you were wondering.’

      Nico said nothing and Aurora took a deep breath, trying to keep her exasperation in. Reminding herself that Nico did not want to hear anything about home…

      She was supposed to be keeping things professional, Aurora told herself. Except his father was fading. Did Nico properly know that?

      ‘Look, Nico, I know that after all he did to you, you must hate him, but I think—’

      ‘I don’t,’ Nico interrupted. ‘I love him very much.’

      For Aurora the sky turned purple, the floor was now sand and the people in the bar were green.

      Everything she knew was gone.

      ‘I have to accept, though, that he does not want my love. Still, tomorrow I will try again, and I will be told to get lost again.’

      Their drinks were brought to them and even after Aurora had taken a sip of hers the revelation had not sunk in.

      ‘You love him?’

      ‘Always.’

      His response was made in a voice she had never heard. One she did not know how to describe, for it was both decided and resigned.

      ‘So, no,’ Nico continued, ‘I will not ask you how my father is, because I am in touch with his doctor every day. I know he is failing. I have sent him the lifting chair that you texted me about. And I have a chef in Palermo currently trying to recreate some dinner he keeps speaking about. One that his mother once made. I hope that it will prompt him to eat.’

      ‘Nico…’

      She did not know what to say. Oh, the hell of loving someone who beat you! The hell of loving someone who goaded and taunted you.

      ‘He seems a little happier,’ she said, and saw his disbelieving look. But she spoke the truth. ‘He seems calmer,’ she told him. ‘Although I have a confession, Nico. I was a very bad carer and bought him some whisky last week. We watched a television show together and we laughed…’

      ‘Thank you,’ Nico said.

      Aurora resisted reaching over and taking his hand. Nico did not like affection, but she ached to give it to him. She attempted to keep some distance, as she told him the painful truth. ‘He’s nearing the end.’

      ‘I know he is.’

      Aurora felt selfish for her assumption that Nico was going home just to avoid her. She sensed he had closed the subject, and so, after a moment’s pensive silence between them, she looked around the lavish bar.

      ‘Pino will be upset he missed this,’ Aurora said. ‘He wanted to buy you a drink and a meal.’

      ‘He wanted me to go on the bus tour.’

      That made Aurora laugh.

      ‘I’m meeting them all for breakfast tomorrow, before I fly off.’

      ‘I wasn’t told.’

      ‘There’s an invitation being delivered to your rooms at turndown,’ Nico said. ‘And before you tell me that I should not be so formal with old friends, I will explain again that this trip is not about friends visiting Rome. It is work—and I take my work very seriously.’

      ‘I know,’ Aurora said. ‘And so do your staff. But aside from that fact, we are friends visiting Rome.’

      He said nothing.

      ‘Well, they are your friends,’ she amended, for Nico had once told Aurora that they could never be friends. ‘Whether you want them to be or not.’

      Nico’s eyes shuttered, and he wished that it was enough to obliterate the knives of her words—for she was right. Pino et al were his friends.

      More than friends.

       It takes a village…

      And it was true that the people of Silibri had raised him.

      He had sat in the park as a terrified child and Bruno Messina had insisted he come back to their home to sleep.

      And he had been so hungry at times, too proud to beg, but the emptier his cupboards the more frequent the invitations.

      ‘Hey, Nico!’ Pino would say. ‘I need some work done in my yard.’

      And that had meant supper…

      ‘Nico,’ Francesca would say. ‘I have made too many biscotti. Take them before they go stale.’

      Tomorrow, at breakfast, he would take off his jacket and he would smile and laugh with them. Somehow, before the hotel opened and it was all down to business, he would thank the people who had always been there.

      ‘Don’t you ever wonder about home?’ Aurora asked.

      ‘I hear enough of what’s going on,’ Nico said. He didn’t like invasive gossip and exaggerated stories, but then he looked at Aurora. ‘Yes.’

      They shared a small smile.

      ‘How’s