Low-level anxiety about the take-off had been bubbling away ever since she’d woken this morning and here she was, already several thousand feet up, without the usual sensation of sweat-drenched panic. Instead all her focus had been on the feelings Will stirred up.
She squirmed in her seat, not wanting to give him any credit for being kind. Will didn’t do ‘kind’. He was a bastard. A lying two-faced bastard. Surely he hadn’t deliberately wound her up just to help her. Winding her up was standard Will operating procedure.
He turned and caught her studying him.
‘What?’ he asked, resting a book of Italian recipes against his stomach, one finger lazily tracing the large silver scar on the palm of his left hand. Burns were an occupational hazard in professional kitchens, but he’d had that one a very long time. She’d often wondered how he’d got it.
‘What’s the deal with this Italian restaurant you’re setting up? Won’t it be pizza and pasta just like everyone else?’ She could needle too if she wanted.
Siena was right. They were as bad as brother and sister.
Will’s mouth twisted in a supercilious grimace. And she realised she’d answered the question.
‘Okay, why do you need to go to Italy?’ What she meant was why now and why Rome.
She nodded at the recipe book. ‘Wouldn’t desk research have sufficed?’
‘I want it to be authentic. Give people a taste of Italy that they’ve tried on their holidays. I’m going to break down the menu into different regional specialities.’
‘What, so you’re going to go to all the different parts of Italy as part of this re …?’ her voice died away as her words suddenly conjured up a vivid image: Will talking about his passion for Italian food, tracing a map of Italy on her naked stomach, pointing out Siena, Pisa and Bologna, before being distracted by the possible whereabouts of Sicily. That conversation hadn’t ever been finished. Heat flooded her cheeks and her nipples sprang to ridiculously misplaced attention at the memory of his hand dipping lower and lower.
To her surprise he looked away. Most unlike the cocky self-assured Will she was used to.
‘Obviously not, but I’ve been to … Sic … places in recent years and kept notes. But I’ve not been to Rome for a long time. This was the perfect opportunity.’
‘Welcome to Rome.’ Giovanni, planted an enthusiastic kiss on her lips, casting a slightly triumphant glance Will’s way. Lisa took a quick, indrawn breath and almost laughed out loud, except it might have hurt his feelings. Really? Giovanni thought he had competition there?
Tucking away her amusement, she focused on the cheerful chaotic family group that had emerged alongside them in the arrivals hall. With vociferous cries of delight, they fell upon a brown-eyed cherubic toddler, indiscriminate in his smiles as he was passed among welcoming aunts and uncles. A strange pang struck Lisa as he was finally hoisted onto his father’s shoulders. Waves of love radiated from the family group and for a brief second she wondered what it would feel like to be part of that. Nan loved her, but she was hardly the demonstrative type.
Nan’s response to her saying goodbye last night, and imploring her to take her tablets and behave, was a strident huff and a few choice words about Lisa’s fussing. Fussing! If only she knew. Reading those bloody leaflets that Dr Gupta had pressed upon her had left Lisa terrified and reinforced her decision to come to Rome. It was now or never. If anything did happen to Nan, she wouldn’t be able to leave her and she wanted this business with her father sorted before then. Lisa ignored the cowardly whisper, pointing out it would also be far easier to give him the ring and walk away without a backward glance, while Nan was still alive.
‘Come on. The car is this way.’ Giovani took her case and expertly wove his way through the busy airport and, when they stepped outside through the doors, even though it was nearly four o’clock in the afternoon, they were hit by a shaft of Italian heat and brilliant sunshine, a gorgeous contrast to the grey dampness of Luton they’d left scant hours ago. Her spirits lifted. She was here, in Rome and it had been kind of Giovanni to invite her. Despite the doubts that Will had planted in her head, she resolved to make the most of the next few days and enjoy herself.
She would cross any romantically inclined bridges with Giovanni as they came. Will’s dour predictions were Will being cynical. The young Italian was handsome and full of fun and, more importantly, he liked her. Perhaps she should give him a chance and see what developed and not assume that Giovanni was necessarily stereotypical of Italian men.
They stopped beside a tiny, battered Fiat 500, with one wing mirror missing. It looked as if it had done battle in a demolition derby and lost.
‘Seriously?’ Will drawled, looking at the car. ‘Is it safe?’
‘Yes.’ Giovanni grinned. ‘Perfect for Rome traffic.’
‘And what about the luggage?’ He indicated his and Lisa’s cases, looking at the tiny boot.
‘No problem.’ Giovanni picked up Lisa’s case and manhandled it into the back seat waiting for Will to follow suit.
With both cases wedged in the back there was only room for one passenger to squeeze in next to them.
Giovanni held open the driver’s seat and indicated to Will that he should get in the back. Will glanced down at his long legs; Giovanni grinned and held the door wider. Lisa almost giggled.
‘You’re kidding,’ said Will with a scowl.
‘It’s not far.’ Giovanni gave him a cheerful grin.
Lisa bit back a smile as Will climbed into the back, resigned disgust written all over his face.
The traffic was every bit as chaotic as Lisa had been led to believe. Cars zipped in and out of lanes with gay abandon, heedless of blaring horns, leaving eye-wateringly negligible gaps between bumpers. She crossed her fingers tight under her thighs and wondered whether she might have been better in the back. Being back on the plane was almost preferable to this. Giovanni’s jerky, rapid-braking style of driving made her feel slightly sick as did his habit of turning to talk to her as he drove. The car didn’t have any air conditioning and when Giovanni opened all the windows as they came to a stop in grindingly slow traffic, the car filled with hazy exhaust fumes.
‘This is the main road into Rome. It’s usually a lot busier than this,’ said Giovanni, before changing lanes with startling speed, squeezing the car into a gap in the next lane, which was moving fractionally quicker than theirs. Two seconds later he whipped the car back into the original lane, which had started to edge forwards more quickly. This constant lane-changing, trying to second-guess the traffic queues, interspersed with a running commentary on the other drivers, didn’t help the queasiness dancing in her stomach.
‘We have a whole week. Are there any places that you would like to visit? We have a wealth of sights. The tourist season is very busy now.’ He grinned at Lisa, and she smiled uncertainly. She wished he’d watch the road instead of turning her way like that, but she was grateful he hadn’t said anything about looking for her father.
For some reason, she didn’t want Will to know the real reason for her visit.
While looking out at the houses beside the road, and the streets beyond, it struck her rather forcefully that this could be a wild-goose chase. It had seemed quite simple when she was at home. Now the practicality and the enormity rocked home. Rome was a big city. The photo and address were very old. Anything could have happened in the intervening years.
‘I … the usual places, I guess.’ She’d fully intended to read her guide book on the plane, but with Will sitting next to her she’d been reluctant. An organised person might have planned and prepared