A Venetian Affair. Lucy Gordon

can give you something better than a tramezzino!’

      ‘You’re going to cook?’

      ‘You cannot imagine such a thing?’ he teased, and brandished his mobile phone. ‘I shall persuade one of the chefs at the hotel to send us a cold meal of some kind.’

      ‘Wonderful!’

      ‘Can you eat shellfish?’

      ‘Any kind you like.’

      ‘Then I shall ring Sandro to see what he can do.’ Domenico looked down at her as he got up. ‘You feel better now, cara?’

      ‘Much better. But, Domenico, if you prefer to go out—’

      ‘I do not,’ he said with emphasis. ‘We shall sit on the little balcony outside the dining room while we wait for our dinner, and watch the boats on the Canalazzo.’

      ‘Canalazzo?’ Laura queried.

      ‘You foreigners call it the Grand Canal!’ he said, laughing.

      The minute the door closed behind him Laura went to the window to gaze at the baroque splendour of the Salute church across the lagoon. She heaved a sigh. She had been here only a short time, yet she would miss Venice when she was back in London. She would miss Domenico a whole lot more—but she wasn’t going to think about that.

      It was some time before he rejoined her. ‘You should be resting,’ he accused.

      ‘My headache has vanished completely,’ she assured him, and smiled. ‘You know I can’t resist this view.’

      He smiled indulgently. ‘Then let us go outside to see more of it.’

      Domenico’s balcony was narrow, with only room for a table and four chairs, but the view from it was spectacular. Laura leaned against the rail, watching the assorted water traffic, and wished she could paint as she watched a gondola trail a glittering wake on the water below.

      ‘The passengers are tourists, of course,’ said Domenico, leaning beside her. ‘The only time Venetians travel by gondola is on their wedding day.’

      ‘So you were going to make an exception for me the other night, then!’

      He slanted a smile at her. ‘I was determined to impress you.’

      ‘You would have succeeded!’ She leaned farther to watch the gondola out of sight. ‘I’m disappointed, Domenico. I hoped he would serenade his passengers.’

      He laughed. ‘This does not happen. The only melodies uttered by gondoliere are the warning calls heard on our canals for centuries.’

      ‘Another illusion shattered!’

      ‘Let me console you with wine.’

      ‘I’d better stick to water just yet, please.’

      Left alone again, Laura gazed in concentration at the view from the balcony, so she would remember every detail of it when life resumed normal service back in London. She turned with a smile as Domenico came back with a loaded tray.

      ‘Allora, we have wine, San Pellegrino, fresh fruit juice and ice,’ he announced. ‘I thought you might like a taste of peach and orange in your mineral water, Laura.’

      ‘I would indeed,’ she agreed. ‘You’re very good to me, Domenico.’

      He shot a narrowed, gleaming look at her. ‘When you smile at me like so it is not easy to be very good.’

      ‘Then I won’t.’

      ‘Which would be a pity.’

      Their eyes held for a moment, then Domenico turned away to toss ice in a glass. He added a mixture of fruit juice and mineral water, topped it off with lemon slices and handed the drink to her with a bow. ‘Perhaps the signorina will give me her verdict.’

      Laura eyed him in admiration. ‘You speak such wonderful English, Domenico.’

      ‘Grazie. I learned in school, of course, and then later I—I did a more intensive language course and became more fluent. It is necessary in my line of work.’ He gestured towards her glass. ‘Taste, cara.’

      Laura took a sip and smiled at him. ‘Delicious.’

      He poured a glass of wine and took the chair beside her. ‘Salute.’

      She raised her glass to him. ‘To you, Domenico, for making my holiday so special.’

      ‘It is not so hard a thing to do,’ he assured her, and leaned back in his chair, utterly relaxed.

      Laura’s eyes were thoughtful as she studied the clear-cut profile etched against the fiery light.

      ‘That is a strange look, Laura,’ he said, intercepting it.

      She shrugged, smiling. ‘It suddenly occurred to me that this time last week we didn’t know each other existed.’

      ‘It is hard to believe,’ he agreed soberly. ‘There is so much I wish to learn about you, cara. Tell me more about your family; describe them to me.’

      ‘My mother is small and fair like me, and very attractive—’

      ‘Also like you!’

      ‘Thank you, kind sir. Abby is tall, with dark hair like my father. She’s the brains of the family, but no slouch in the looks department, either. She’s off to Trinity, Cambridge, in the autumn.’

      ‘That is very impressive.’ Domenico shot a look at her. ‘It will also be expensive, which is why you help her and why you cannot return soon.’ He turned to her, his eyes brilliant with sudden inspiration. ‘But I have a solution for this.’

      Laura eyed him warily. ‘What?’

      ‘You will refuse to let me pay your air fare, I know, but instead of a hotel you could stay here in my apartment as my guest. I will not impose my company on you. You are most welcome to stay here alone, or with your mother and sister, perhaps, any time you wish.’

      She smiled at him, deeply touched. ‘Domenico, that’s such a lovely thought, but I couldn’t possibly take advantage of your kindness like that.’

      The light vanished from his eyes. ‘Why not?’ he demanded with sudden hauteur. ‘Do not confuse me with these ragazzi at your bank. I would ask nothing in return.’

      ‘I know that. Don’t go all arrogant and Venetian on me!’ She heaved a sigh. ‘It’s a lovely idea, but just not possible for me right now.’

      ‘As you wish,’ he said coolly, and got up at the sound of the doorbell. ‘Our dinner.’

      Laura bit her lip as she watched him go. She drained her glass and went into the dining room, and with a pang saw that Domenico had made the table festive with candles and crystal and a beautiful linen cloth and napkins. She waited until the outer door closed, then went into the hall to confront him.

      ‘Domenico, I didn’t mean to offend you. I would like nothing better than to take you up on your offer, but I just can’t make it back to Venice for a while. Please try to understand.’

      ‘Mi dispiace,’ he said with instant remorse. ‘Of course I understand. Let us talk no more of things which distress you, cara.’ He took Laura’s hand and led her back to the balcony to watch the sun sinking into the lagoon in a blaze of crimson fire.

      ‘It’s so lovely here.’ She sighed. ‘I shall think of this a lot when it’s raining back in London.’

      ‘It rains here too. This had great advantages for me last night,’ he reminded her, eyes gleaming.

      ‘For me, too,’ said Laura, seeing no point in beating about the bush.

      ‘But you were angry with me!’

      ‘Only because