ride home,” she said, when she had dismounted. Giving into impulse, she kissed his cheek. “See you,” she said and turned swiftly to enter the store.
Cristiano watched as she walked away, so alive and happy. He didn’t want to think of the outcome had he not been riding that night.
But he felt like an impostor. He was no hero. He’d never tell her, or anyone, how fear engulfed him. How the nightmares of that incident in May haunted him unexpectedly day and night. Why couldn’t he get the images out of his mind? Granted he could go several days without them. Just when he’d think he had it licked, they’d spring up and threaten to render him powerless.
Though he had been able to cope at the fire. Maybe, maybe, he was getting over it.
Mariella entered the grocery store and glanced back through the glass door. Cristiano sat on his motorcycle, staring at the door. Could he see her? She felt her heart beating heavily. She had never ridden a motorcycle before. She’d not known how intimate it felt, pressed against his hard body, feeling his muscles move against her as he drove the powerful bike. She still felt tingly and so aware of him. She hated to move, but people would begin to wonder if she stayed at the door staring like a moonstruck teenager at her latest heartthrob.
She almost giggled as she forced herself to move.
Would she ever get the chance to ride behind him again? Visit his special spot? Life seemed especially sweet today. It could almost as easily have been over for her. Instead, she had ridden with a sexy guy who intrigued her, fascinated her, set her hormones rocking.
She was curious about the injuries he was recovering from. Maybe he’d re-injured himself rescuing her, though he looked to be in perfect health to her. His broad shoulders and muscles beneath the shirt he’d worn attested to robust health. He looked as if he could jump mountains. And obviously was strong enough to carry her and the baby from a burning building.
With the loss of all her things—especially her computer—the sooner she returned home, the sooner she could pick up the pieces of her life. Maybe it was a sign she was not to look for Dante’s father.
Fortunately her purchases fit into two bags and Mariella carried them back to the cottage. She also brought a bouquet of mixed mums for her hostess. She wanted to brighten the woman’s day in gratitude for watching Dante for her. She wished the Bertatalis didn’t feel so guilty. They had not known of the faulty wiring. All had ended well—except for the loss of her computer.
Was there a place in town she could use one? An Internet café? Or, she could take Cristiano up on his offer and use his. Well, that was a no-brainer.
The next morning after tidying up, bathing and dressing the baby, Mariella set off for Cristiano’s house. The road to the cottage was lightly traveled and easily navigated. However, it proved awkward pushing the baby stroller down the uneven graveled driveway.
The day was a copy of yesterday, sunny and balmy. Leaves had begun to change on some of the trees covering the hillside, bright spots of yellows and reds showed brilliant in the sunshine against the deep green of the conifers. She breathed the fresh air. What would it be like to live here year round? Nothing like New York where she’d been the past four years, with its concrete canyons and few open parks beyond Central Park.
Different from Rome, too. But that was home. Crowded, frenetic, yet comfortably providing all she really needed.
Rounding the bend, she saw the cottage. She studied it as she walked toward it. It was warm cream-colored stone, with a steep pitched roof of dark slate. The windows were wide with shutters on either side. It looked old, settled, perfect for its mountain backdrop. With an ageless look, it was hard to tell when it was built, but clearly a long time ago, she suspected from what she’d seen on the inside. He was lucky to have such a comfortable place to recuperate.
Cristiano was not on the patio this morning. She walked to the front door and knocked.
Cristiano opened the door a moment later and stared at her in surprise, then at the baby, his expression softening.
“What are you two doing here?” he asked, smiling at Dante.
“I came to take you up on your offer to use your computer. I need to check in with my clients.”
“Come on in.” He opened the door wide and she pushed the carriage in.
“It’s dark in here,” Mariella said, stepping into the living room. “Why is it all closed up?”
He looked around as if seeing the heavy drapes pulled over the windows for the first time.
“It suited me.”
“How odd.”
“They help insulate the windows.”
“It’s not that cold.”
He stared at her a moment, then shrugged. “I’ll get the laptop.”
In less than five minutes, Dante was happily kicking his legs from the baby seat playing with a spoon and plastic cup while Mariella booted up the computer on the kitchen table. Cristiano had hooked it to a phone line. It wouldn’t be the fastest connection, but at least she could check her email. Once Cristiano saw she was connected, he took off to give her privacy. She appreciated that, too aware of the man to concentrate on her work if he hovered nearby.
She gazed around the room while the computer booted up. It had a certain old-world charm that she loved. There was a huge fireplace, stone-cold now, at one end. She could envision a cheerful fire in the dead of winter when a sprinkle of snow might lie on the ground. How cozy this room would be. The large wooden table would seat a family of eight. The stone floor was cold, but, with a few rugs, could be comfortable in the winter months.
Which she would never see here in Lake Clarissa. For a moment the disappointment seemed too strong to bear.
DANTE became fussy. Mariella prepared a mid-morning bottle and picked up the baby. She did not want to sit in one of the wooden chairs by the large table, balancing the baby and bottle, so she wandered into the living room. She’d like to tidy this room or at least open the curtains so she could see the magnificent views.
Sitting in a wing chair, she fed Dante, softly crooning to him as he ate. Maybe the dimness worked to her advantage as Dante began to fall asleep just as he finished the bottle.
Mariella continued to hold him after he fell asleep, relishing this quiet time with just the two of them. He was a beautiful child with dark brown eyes and dark hair. Ariana would have so loved this child of hers. Would Dante resemble her when he grew older? Or his unknown father? Tears threatened every time Mariella remembered her friend and her untimely death. How could she have borne having to leave this child behind? Love expanded within her heart and she wanted to hold the moment forever.
Cristiano came into the room from outside.
“Snack time?” he asked, studying her and Dante. He sat in the chair near her.
“Mid-morning feed.” She gazed down at her sleeping baby. “I’ll put him in the stroller and go when he wakes up. I still have to follow up on some work I was doing. I appreciate your letting me use your computer. We’ll stay
