Cristiano said.
At the same time she replied, “That would be fine, if he doesn’t mind.”
“Oops,” she said immediately. “I guess you do mind.” She put on a bright smile. “I’ll be going soon.”
He felt like a jerk. He hadn’t meant to embarrass her. “Come, sit with me. I could use the company while I eat.” He tried to make up for the faux pas, but she just gave a polite smile and said, “No, thanks anyway, I have to be going. This guy likes to ride in the stroller to see the sights.” She fumbled for her wallet and began pulling out the euros to pay her bill.
Emeliano served Cristiano, gave him a wry look and hurried away to look after another customer.
By the high color in her cheeks, he knew she was embarrassed. They’d been talking; it seemed churlish to refuse when his friend made the suggestion. Now he wished he had waited a second, thought before he spoke.
She rose and gathered her purse and a diaper bag and quickly carried the baby to the front of the restaurant without looking at him again. There he saw the stroller he’d missed when he first entered. In a heartbeat, they were gone.
His sister would have scolded him for his bad manners. His father would have looked at him with sadness. Of course his father seemed perpetually sad since their mother had died so long ago. He’d never found another woman to share his life with.
Cristiano began to eat. The food was good, not excellent, but good. What did it matter? Seeing the baby reminded him of his friend Stephano’s young daughter. Too young to have lost her father. Cristiano still couldn’t believe his best friend had perished in the instant the second bomb had exploded. Many days he could almost believe he was on leave and would go back to work to find Stephano and the others on his squad ready to fight whatever fires came their way.
But his friend was gone. Forever.
Cristiano ate slowly, regretting his hasty refusal of sitting with the woman with the baby. Learning more about her would have kept his mind off his friend and his other worries.
Mariella bundled Dante up and placed him in the stroller. She couldn’t get out of the restaurant fast enough. She felt the wave of embarrassment wash over her as she remembered offering to have the man sit at her table. He had definitely been annoyed. He probably had women falling over themselves to gain his attention with those dark compelling eyes and the tanned skin. He looked as if he brought the outdoors inside with him. He towered over the waiter. When he’d sat at the table next to hers she’d been impressed with his trim physique, wide shoulders and masculine air. He had such vitality around him.
She’d also been too flustered to ask the waiter if he’d ever seen Ariana in the restaurant. She’d even brought the picture of her friend to show around.
A moment later the thought popped into her head that the man talking to the waiter could even have been Dante’s father. He had the dark eyes and hair for it.
“So who’s your daddy, sweetie? Did he live around here or only bring your mother for a visit?” she asked the baby as they moved along the worn sidewalk. Shops enticed, but it was difficult to maneuver the stroller through the narrow aisles of the small stores. She needed a better plan to try to find Dante’s father than simply showing Ariana’s photograph to every man she saw and asking if he’d known her. Why ever would anyone admit to it if there’d been a problem with their relationship?
Stopping near the church, she sat on one of the wooden benches facing the town square. It was peaceful here. Dressed warmly, she was comfortable on this sunny afternoon despite the cooler temperatures. Checking on Dante, she was pleased he was warm and animated, looking around at the different buildings, up at the leaves on the tree partially shading the bench.
“Tree,” she said. She knew Dante probably couldn’t care less what that was called as long as she fed him on time and kept him dry and warm.
She still felt stressed dealing with the baby and hoped this trip would not only help her find out more about his father, but bring them closer together, too. She’d read every book she could get her hands on about newborns, had enlisted the help of a couple of friends who had children. But nothing had prepared her for the task of being an instant mom twenty-four-seven. At least most mothers had months to get used to the idea. Plans and dreams—usually with a partner—centered on the new life arriving. Psyching themselves up for the challenges.
Instead, Dante had been Mariella’s instant baby. She had known about him for less than a month before she became his mother. No warning, no preparation, and definitely no partner to share the task.
Dante was dozing when Mariella thought about returning to the cottage she’d rented. He’d sleep better in the crib she’d had set up for him. And she could finish unpacking and settle in. They’d be here a week so she needed to get organized, then she could decide how to go on.
“I didn’t mean to run you off.” She looked to her left and saw the man from the restaurant. He paused beside her. The sun glinted on his dark hair. His dark eyes looked straight into hers and caused her heart to bump up in rhythm. For a moment she couldn’t breathe. She felt a flare of attraction sweep through her. It made her almost giddy. Certainly not the way a mother should react. She hadn’t expected to see him again—especially so soon after the restaurant.
“I was ready to leave,” she said. She looked away. He was gorgeous—tall, tanned and fit. Was he on holiday? Why else would he be Jet Skiing and then taking a long lunch in the middle of the week? Or did he live around here and have the kind of job that allowed mid-week excursions to the lake? She wanted to know more about him.
He sat beside her on the bench, staring at the fountain at the center of the square. She flicked him a glance, but he seemed oblivious, still focused on the fountain. She noted no rings on his hands. She looked where he looked. The honey-colored stone blended well with the mountain setting. The cobbled street gave testimony to the age of the village. Surely he’d seen it all before. As if reading her thoughts, he turned and looked at her, offering his hand.
“My name is Cristiano Casali. Emeliano’s suggestion caught me by surprise. You have a baby and I thought it best—never mind. I apologize for my rudeness.”
She shook his hand and then pulled hers free. Tingling from the brief contact, she cleared her throat and tried to concentrate on what he said and not on the amazing feelings suddenly pulsing through her. He was just a man being courteous.
“Not to worry. I’m Mariella Holmes.” She didn’t dare look at him. Let her get her roiling emotions under some control first.
“So the mystery of the baby intrigues me. And if you knew about how things have been with me lately, that’s surprising. How is he yours? You look too young to be a guardian of anyone.” He glanced at the baby, then back at her.
“I’m twenty-two and old enough. I have friends who didn’t go to university who married young and already have two children.” She would never confide to a stranger how unprepared she felt being a new mother. If she’d just had more time to prepare, maybe she’d feel better suited to the role.
“Okay, you’re old enough, but how?”
“His mother died. Before she did, I agreed to be his guardian. Ariana had no other family.” She was proud she could say her friend’s name without bursting into tears. Studying him as she spoke, she saw no start of recognition when she said her friend’s name.
“The
