‘I will never forget. And I will enjoy another very much.’ He took her in his arms and rubbed his cheek against her hair. ‘I am hungry for so much more than food, Laura, but I am afraid to hurt you.’
She tipped her head back to look at him. ‘It didn’t hurt when you kissed me. And my ankle doesn’t hurt when I’m lying down.’
Domenico’s breathing quickened. ‘You mean this?’
‘With all my heart,’ she assured him breathlessly, and smiled into his blazing eyes as he picked her up and carried her into the bedroom.
He undressed her as though he were unwrapping a priceless gift, and made love to her with exquisite gentleness that was just as rapturous in its own way as the heat and passion of the first time. And later, after sharing a vast omelette with her, Domenico made it clear to Laura that in future their lives must be arranged to allow as much time together as humanly possible.
‘If you love me, carissima,’ he said as he finally left her, ‘come to me in Venice very soon.’
‘I do, and I will,’ she promised, and stood on tiptoe for one last kiss.
The surprise visit from Domenico did more for Laura’s face and frame of mind than any medication. Within days her face was less painful, soon she was able to disguise her fading bruises with cosmetics, and there were no more problems with concentration during her working day. She received postcards from Abby in France, from her mother in the Lakes, and the newlyweds in Italy, but her regular phone calls from Domenico were the highlights of her days. She was so much happier with life it caused comment on the trading floor at the bank, with demands about who was the lucky guy.
‘I wondered why he wanted your London address,’ said her mother, when she heard the phone was a present from Domenico. ‘If you’ve kept it I take it things are more cordial between you now?’
‘Much more. He came to see me and explained a few things.’
‘Did he, indeed? I take it there is no lady in his life?’
‘Other than me, no. So I’m off to Venice again once I can get more time off. I shan’t need a hotel; I’ll stay with Domenico in his apartment.’
‘Well, well, things are more cordial.’
‘He rings me up a lot to make sure they stay that way. How’s Janet?’
‘She’s wearing me out. I haven’t done so much walking in years.’
Laura laughed. ‘You’ll be fit as a fiddle by the time you come home. And Abby’s obviously having a ball in France by her postcards. I’m glad. She deserves it.’
Domenico was unable to leave Venice again at the height of the tourist season, and Laura, wanting more than a snatched weekend break, had to wait until the middle of September before she could take more time off from the bank. In the meantime she’d been home to Stavely for a celebration dinner to mark the newlyweds’ return and admire the wedding presents, and Isabel and Abby had come to London for a day so that the three of them could hit the shops together to stock Abby up for college.
‘At last!’ exclaimed Domenico, when Laura told him her flight was booked. ‘I am tired of waiting. It is a very long time since we were together.’
Laura could have told him to the minute just how long. ‘Can you keep the entire week free?’
‘Every second of it, carissima. Is your face truly healed now?’
‘Like new,’ she assured him.
‘Ah, Laura, now that my time of waiting is nearly over I cannot wait to hold you in my arms again.’
‘Just two more weeks,’ she said huskily.
‘I will be waiting at Marco Polo.’
‘In a less impatient mood than last time, I hope!’
He laughed softly. ‘I shall be even more impatient to rush you to a boat again, but this time to a water taxi, for the fastest journey possible to my apartment.’
By which, thought Laura happily, Domenico meant to make love to her the moment they were through his door. With this in mind she went on a shopping expedition with money her mother had given her from her windfall, and spent a shamelessly large part of it on underwear.
Laura went down to Stavely regularly, but during one weekend she’d stayed in the flat the doorbell rang while she was enjoying the luxury of a late breakfast with the Sunday papers.
‘It’s me,’ said a hoarse little voice through the intercom. ‘Let me in, please.’
‘Abby?’ Laura pressed the release button and opened the door to see her sister creeping up the stairs in such obvious pain she flew down to help her. ‘What on earth’s the matter, love? Have you hurt yourself? Where’s Mother?’
When her only answer was a visceral groan, Laura put an arm round Abby’s waist and helped her up to the flat. ‘Tell me what’s wrong,’ she said urgently.
‘Bathroom,’ gasped Abby, and staggered through the door Laura opened for her.
When she heard anguished groans Laura disregarded her frantic pleas for privacy and went in after Abby, her practical side taking over when it dawned on her what was happening. She soaked a hand towel in cold water to bathe Abby’s sweating face, and unable to help in any other way, held her sister’s hand until the inexorable process was over. She turned on the shower and helped the shocked, sobbing girl out of her clothes, and when Abby was clean and dry wrapped her in a dressing gown and made her lie on the bed to recover.
Laura went to the kitchen to make tea, but Abby slid off the bed to follow her, looking at her with huge reddened eyes, her face ashen beneath its suntan.
‘I’m sorry about landing you with this,’ she said unsteadily.
‘Don’t worry about that,’ said Laura firmly. ‘The important thing right now is to get you to a hospital—’
‘No,’ wailed Abby, sounding more like eight than eighteen.
‘I’m afraid you must, love. Don’t worry, the hospital’s quite near. I’ll give you something to wear, then I’ll ring Mother and bring her up to speed.’
‘Don’t do that!’ said Abby frantically. ‘I don’t want her to know.’
‘Of course she must know,’ said Laura gently. ‘Where does she think you are now?’
‘Out for the day with Rachel.’
‘And where does Rachel think you are?’
‘Up here for the day with you.’
‘You were taking a chance!’
‘I was desperate,’ sobbed Abby.
Laura put a comforting arm round her. ‘Don’t cry. I know you feel rough, but get these clothes on, love. The taxi should be here any minute.’
