that’s not fair. We should wait our turn like everybody else.’
Dante frowned. ‘Here in Italy, we are not so polite. But if you don’t want to go to the Duomo, there is another place just a short drive from here where you can see the city. The view is as good as that from the Duomo. When I run in the afternoons after work, I like to go past it and I always have to stop and look. I have my motorbike nearby. We could drive there now.’
Alice nodded and to her surprise he took her by the hand and yet somehow it felt natural. She felt a ripple of excitement as he led her through the narrow streets until they came to a number of motorbikes, haphazardly parked next to each other. It looked to Alice as if the owners had abandoned them there. When he’d mentioned a motorbike, Alice had assumed Dante meant a moped, like every other young Italian seemed to own. She baulked at the powerful-looking Kawasaki, eyeing it with trepidation. ‘You won’t go too fast?’
He laughed. ‘Going fast is the fun of it. But don’t worry, you’ll be safe with me. I promise.’
She found herself on the back of his Kawasaki and soon he was weaving his way in and out of the traffic, gesticulating good-naturedly as cars tried to cut them up. More than once Alice thought they were going to crash and closed her eyes only to find that they had managed, at the last moment, to squeeze through a gap she hadn’t even noticed. She wound her arms tightly around his waist and pressed her face into his back so she wouldn’t have to look. He smelled faintly of olives and soap and she could feel the heat from his body through her clothes. Every part of her body was tingling where it touched him.
At first Alice kept her eyes closed. If she was going to die, she’d rather not see it coming, but after a little while she opened them again. She couldn’t spend the whole day with her eyes closed. Then she relaxed. She had never felt so free in all her life.
Dante was right; the view from the top of the hill was breathtaking. Spread beneath her, a golden red in the dying sun, were the terracotta roofs of Florence. The city didn’t look nearly as big and bewildering from up here.
They sat on a low wall as Dante pointed out the famous landmarks of the city—the Campanile, Santa Croce, the brick tower of the Palazzo Vecchio. His pride in his home city was evident.
They sat there talking, though later Alice couldn’t remember about what. It didn’t seem to matter to either of them. The sun dipped low in the sky and the lights of the city twinkled below them. A cool breeze teased her neck and she shivered, yet she didn’t want this evening to end.
‘Are you cold, cara?‘ Dante asked, putting an arm around her shoulders and pulling her towards him. Alice leant against him, her hand pressed against his chest. The air between them sizzled and sparked and she turned her face towards him, noting how his eyes seemed to glimmer in the dark. As Dante traced a finger down her cheek a delicious shiver ran down her spine. Using the tips of his fingers, he tilted her face upwards and studied her intently, before bringing his mouth down on hers.
The kiss was the sweetest and yet the most exciting Alice had ever known. When he pulled away, she could hardly breathe. She barely knew this man, yet she already knew something special was happening to her.
Later that night, after Dante had dropped Alice back outside her villa, he sped along the mountain road, weaving between cars and revelling in the feel of the wind on his face. As he concentrated on hugging the tight turns he thought about Alice. Dio, she was sexy with her long blonde hair and eyes the colour of the hills. She had curves that made a man want to run his hands across her body. And those lips, they tasted like honey and pears. He found her even more sexy because she had no idea what she could do to a man. She was shy and inexperienced and he wondered if she’d ever been with a man before. But it wasn’t just the way she looked that set his blood on fire, in her heart she was different to the women he usually dated. The opposite of Natalia.
Thinking about Natalia still made him angry. They had grown up together and everyone had expected them to marry. But when he had decided to become a doctor, he and Natalia had argued. She’d wanted him to go into business with her father, telling Dante that that way they could have a good life. A rich life was what she’d meant. Of course he had refused. He was going to be a doctor—it was what he was meant to do. Natalia had stamped her foot and argued that she couldn’t—wouldn’t—wait until he was earning money. So she had left and married someone else. Now she was living the life she had always wanted. Since Natalia he had never let another woman close.
But he had been attracted to Alice instantly. He had asked her to meet him on an impulse, but to his surprise he’d found he enjoyed her company. He’d had many women since Natalia but they weren’t like Alice. They cared more about what they were wearing, what they looked like, and that was fine. But soon it got boring. He liked a woman who could talk, who knew how to laugh, who loved the simple things in life. Like Alice. Already he knew she could never pretend to be something she wasn’t.
He opened the throttle to pass a lorry that was lumbering up the mountain road and just managed to squeeze into the gap between it and an oncoming car. He laughed out loud. Dio, that was closer than he would have liked.
He had ten days to spend with Alice before she returned to the UK and he was going to make the most of them.
The next days were the most exciting of Alice’s life. She met Dante every afternoon after he finished work at the hospital. He showed her a side of Italy, the real Italy, that she’d never seen before, and every day she fell harder for him. If he was puzzled that she always insisted that he drop her off at the high walls shielding the villa where she was staying, he never said anything. He waited until the gates opened in response to her pressing the buzzer before he sped away on his bike. Alice knew she should tell him who she really was, but she wanted the dreamlike state she was in to go on for ever.
Saturday was his day off and that morning, her second last day in Italy, he picked her up from outside the villa on his motorbike. He held out a helmet and as he helped with the straps his fingers brushed her throat. Her skin literally sizzled where he’d touched her.
‘Where are we going?’ she asked.
His eyes seemed to glow as he looked down at her. ‘I want you to see where I live. Will you come?’
Alice’s heart thumped against her ribs. There was something in those dark eyes that told her that he wasn’t asking her just because he wanted to show her where he lived.
Dry-mouthed, she could only nod. Dante drove his bike as if he were pursued by a hundred devils, overtaking when there was the smallest of gaps.
Eventually, after the scariest but most exhilarating forty minutes of Alice’s life, they drove down a dirt track before stopping next to an olive grove.
Alice eased herself off the motorbike hoping that her shaking legs would hold her. She just about managed to hobble a few steps before Dante pulled her into the crook of his arm. She leant into him, savouring the warmth of his body.
‘This is where I grew up,’ he said, gesturing towards the trees. ‘Behind this is my mother’s house and a little further is the building where I live. It used to be for the shepherds, but now it is my home.’
She turned in his arms, relaxing against his chest. Behind her, he wrapped his arms more tightly around her. In the cocoon of his arms she felt at peace. She had never felt so happy. And she had never felt so sad. Her time with Dante was drawing to an end too quickly. Through the thin material of his T-shirt she could feel his heart beating and knew hers was keeping time with his.
‘Will you come with me to
