Another part was her guilt. She needed to talk to someone about how she was feeling and reached for the phone to call Deline. Disappointed when she got her voice mail, she left the message for Deline to call her back. Then she phoned her mother, who answered on the second ring.
“Irena, my darling daughter. How are you? Where are you? Your father and I have been worried sick.”
More guilt. She sank down on the side of Dino’s bed. “I’m sorry. I meant to call you from the hotel in Riomaggiore, but the sightseeing trip with Signore Antonello took longer than I’d anticipated.”
“You are with him again, in Italy?”
“Yes. You remember my writing about Cinque Terre in my article. It has those narrow, crooked streets lined with colorful old houses stacked haphazardly on top of each other. I think it’s one of the most beautiful spots on the Mediterranean.”
“You said that before. Is he a travel guide?”
“No, no. He works at Antonello Liquers in La Spezia. It’s one of the places I highlighted in my article for tourists to tour. He was the man who took me around the village. Yesterday we went to a castle in Rapallo with his son.”
“I’m glad if you’re enjoying yourself a little bit. When I think what Andrea—”
“Don’t go there, Mother. That part of my life is over. I don’t want to talk about it again.”
“I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“I know. The fact is, Andreas and I weren’t right for each other. I think we both knew it and tried to force something that wasn’t there. Gabi’s coming along proved it.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s difficult to explain.”
“But you loved him!”
It was hard to have a conversation like this long distance. “Yes, I loved Andreas. I always will.” Frustrated, she got to her feet and began pacing right into Vincenzo who caught her by the upper arms to prevent her from falling.
By the enigmatic look in his eye, she couldn’t tell what he was thinking, but there could be no question he’d heard that last admission. She eased away from him. “I have to go, but I promise I’ll call you again tomorrow.”
Irena hung up. “I—I was talking to my mother,” she stammered.
“Have you told her about us?”
“Only in the sense that I knew you when I was doing the magazine article and since my arrival you’ve been showing me around. I don’t plan to tell her anything else until our plans are formalized.” She brushed her hands nervously against her hips, a gesture he followed with his eyes. “How did it go with your attorney?”
A heavy silence ensued. “Let’s talk about it over a meal.”
“Wait, Vincenzo—” He looked over his shoulder. “You came in before I finished making my point with Mother.”
His face had become a mask of indifference. “You don’t owe me an explanation of a private conversation with her. I walked in on you.” On that note, he headed for the living room.
She followed him. “But I want to tell you.”
He turned toward her with his hands on hips in a totally male stance. “Tell me what?”
“Mother’s still living in denial about me and Andreas. If I’d finished that sentence I would have said, ‘I always will love him as a friend, but I realize now that I was never in love with Andreas or he with me.’”
At the enigmatic expression on his arresting face, she added, “Otherwise I could never have gone to bed with you. No woman could do that if she were truly and deeply in love with another man.”
“I agree,” his voice rasped.
“Contrary to what you might think about me, in my twenty-seven years of life I’ve only been intimate with two men, and you’re one of them.”
His jaw tautened. “I never suggested you were promiscuous.”
“No, but you’d have every right to think it after I fell like the proverbial ripe plum into your hands. I look back on it now and can’t believe what I did. It still shocks me.”
Miraculously, his compelling mouth broke into a half smile. “I confess I thought I’d died and gone to some heavenly place for a short while.”
She’d thought the same thing, but couldn’t bring herself to tell him that yet. “Vincenzo?” Irena eyed him frankly. “Can we put the past to rest? My relationship with Andreas? It’s over.”
He gave a slow nod. “Amen. Shall we go?”
Thankful they’d weathered that small storm she said, “I’m coming. Let me get my purse.”
“How hungry are you?”
“I think a pasta salad would hit the spot.”
“There’s a trattoria across from the church Dino was talking about.”
“I—I’ve been thinking about that,” she stammered. “Maybe—”
“Irena—Dino assumed it would be a church wedding because that is what’s real to him,” he broke in quietly. “We don’t have to do it there, and I understand your concerns about such an arrangement, but it will convince other people that our marriage is real. Wouldn’t that be best for all of us, especially the baby?”
She knew Vincenzo was right and sensed he wanted a church wedding, too. Could she go through with such a public display for the sake of the baby growing inside her? She looked at the handsome man in front of her who was doing so much to help her. Smiling, she touched his arm tenderly before speaking.
“You’re right. After we have a visit with the priest, we’ll walk over to eat.”
VINCENZO GRASPED HER HAND. They walked down the road and around the curve, breathing in the fragrance from the masses of flowers blooming in pockets of explosive array. In ways she felt like she was moving through some fantastic dream.
Before long she spied a centuries-old yellow church on the right. He tightened his hand around hers. “Dino likes to go to church.”
“He’s so sweet. If our getting married here will help keep his world intact, then it’s important to me. I’m thinking ahead to the baby’s baptism, too.”
A gleam of satisfaction entered Vincenzo’s eyes before he opened the door and they stepped inside the somewhat musty vestibule. Beyond the inner doors she gazed around the semiornate interior. The lovely stained-glass windows gave the small church a jewellike feel.
“Vincenzo?” A tall middle-aged priest had entered through a side door. The two men carried on a conversation in Italian.
Finally, Vincenzo said in English, “Father Rinaldo, this is my fiancée, Irena Spiros. We would like you to marry us.”
“That is a great honor for me.”
“The honor’s mine, Father. I’ve brought the signed document giving you permission to waive the banns so we can be married in a private ceremony on Thursday.”
His eyes smiled. “You are in a great hurry, then.”
“You could say that,” Vincenzo responded in his deep voice.
Heat rose from Irena’s