Marcus, her last boyfriend, had been targeted by her best friend from university, who had made no secret of the fact that she’d always fancied Marcus. But it had never bothered Emily, who’d trusted him so naively…so, when he’d unbelievably succumbed to the determined charms of the other woman, Emily had suffered a bombshell all of her own. Then, it had been Coral’s job to pick up the shattered pieces of her ego and her bruised heart. Emily sighed briefly as her thoughts ran on. The event was a whole year ago and, although she barely thought about him now, she’d been taught a hard lesson. Beware of those you thought you could trust. Especially handsome men, who were naturally attractive to the opposite sex.
Presently, they gave the young Italian waitress their order, and within a couple of minutes two large glasses of white wine arrived. Coral picked up hers straight away, beaming across at Emily.
‘Cheers,’ she said, taking a generous gulp, and Emily smiled back, picking up her own drink. It was good to have her friend’s company on this trip, she thought. Even if she was beginning to get used to finding her own way around new places and fending for herself.
Coral leaned back in her chair and looked around. ‘There seems so much talent everywhere,’ she said, almost ruefully. ‘I mean, just look at those two guys over there, Ellie—gorgeous or what?’ She paused. ‘Hey, they’re looking at us…Do you think we might get lucky later on…?’
‘Well, you might,’ Emily said cheerfully, ‘but count me out. I’ve got my busiest day tomorrow, and after we’ve eaten it’ll be back to bed for me.’
‘Spoilsport,’ Coral said. ‘Anyway, I was only joking.’ But she continued staring across at the men, returning their rather suggestive smiles.
Emily said mildly, ‘Don’t encourage them, Coral. It’ll really complicate matters if they think we’re giving them the come-on.’
Soon their meal was put in front of them and for the next ten minutes Coral didn’t say another word as she began rapidly consuming everything on her plate.
‘This veal is so tender,’ Emily said appreciatively, ‘and I wish I knew what the dressing on the salad is. It’s fantastic.’
‘And I love, love, love these chips!’ Coral said theatrically. ‘I was so afraid we were only going to get pasta on this holiday.’
The portions were generous, so the girls decided that fruit and coffee would be all they’d need to complete the meal. But Coral insisted on ordering more wine, waving away Emily’s protest.
‘Don’t be a party-pooper, Ellie,’ she said beseechingly. ‘We’re on holiday, remember.’
‘You are—I’m not,’ Emily replied, but she drank the wine anyway. She certainly didn’t want to be accused of being a drag. Anyway, Coral was having such a good time it was hard not to be affected by the girl’s exuberance.
As they sat sipping their wine, the men whom Coral had been smiling at came over and, without asking, pulled out two chairs so that they could sit down.
‘Is OK,’ one of them said, ‘to sit?’ and, although Emily merely shrugged pleasantly, Coral was thrilled.
‘Of course it’s OK,’ she said brightly, darting a quick glance at Emily.
Immediately, one of the men beckoned a waiter and insisted that the girls should have more wine. They were young—probably barely twenty years old, Emily thought—good-looking and well turned-out in their casual clothes, and it was obvious that they’d been encouraged by Coral’s overtly friendly eye signals.
It didn’t take long for the men to find out that the girls were English and on holiday and, in their halting attempts to make themselves understood, they became more and more animated, throwing their heads back and roaring with laughter at the mistakes they were making. But when one of them leaned across and took hold of Emily’s hand, looking into her eyes and telling her how beautiful she was, the girl had had enough. While she was quite ready to go along with this—up to a point, for Coral’s sake—it was becoming clear that this was going to lead to a situation she definitely did not want. She took her hand away, glancing at her watch.
‘Well—great to have met you,’ she said, ‘but we have to go now.’
‘Oh—no—no,’ her admirer said. ‘Is too early…’
Emily looked helplessly at Coral, hoping for some support, but her friend refused to meet her gaze, clearly enjoying the situation, and for a few moments Emily felt at a loss. The men were only being friendly and she had no sense of being threatened. Yet this was the very thing she had wanted to avoid. How was she going to get out of it without appearing to snub these local lads?
And then her good fairy alighted on her shoulder, literally, as the warm hand of the handsome Italian she’d met earlier in the day rested on her bare arm for a second. He looked down into her rather startled gaze and smiled the smile that set her heart racing.
‘We meet again,’ he said calmly. ‘I was sitting inside in the bar having a drink and saw you come in.’ He paused. ‘Is—is everything all right?’ The words were uttered in perfect English, which had the effect of throwing Emily off balance for a moment. What she’d thought of earlier as his halting ability with the language was obviously a ploy he used in order to avoid having to make tiresome conversation with customers! But she admitted to feeling relieved that he’d turned up then—because now the situation was different—and the younger men saw it at once, standing up almost deferentially.
‘ ‘Giorno, Giovanni,’ the men said, almost in unison. He was obviously well known, Emily thought—and why not? He ran a local shop, and these were local youths. She smiled up at him.
‘Oh, hello again,’ she said. ‘We…were just explaining to these…guys…that we are actually just leaving now…’
‘Giovanni’ spoke in rapid Italian to the men, who answered back in the same way, all three laughing loudly and clearly enjoying a joke—probably at her and Coral’s expense, Emily thought—and then they were gone, smiling back as they went, leaving Giovanni standing there alone. He looked down at the girls, treating Coral to one of his disarming grins before introducing himself, holding out his hand to each of them in turn.
‘My name is Giovanni,’ he said, ‘but my friends call me Joe…Gio.’ He paused, his eyes flickering over Emily’s upturned face.
Quickly, she said, ‘Oh—I’m Emily, and this is Coral. We’re only here for a few days—on a sort of holiday…’ she went on rather stumblingly, aware that her friend was staring at her open-mouthed. Not just because it was obvious that Giovanni was somehow known to Emily, but also because he was looking so stunningly handsome she knew that the girl’s curiosity would be killing her. Emily knew she had some explaining to do!
‘Um…do sit down…Giovanni…’ she said hesitantly, and immediately he pulled out a chair. She looked across at Coral. ‘I bought a lovely present for my father at Giovanni’s shop this afternoon,’ she began, ‘and that’s when I met…Giovanni…Gio…’
Although Coral might have been disappointed at the hasty exit the younger men had just made, she was so entranced at the most recent arrival she could hardly speak! He was wearing well-cut jeans and a loose, immaculate white cotton shirt open at the neck, exhibiting a teasing expanse of muscular brown chest. His hair was stylishly untidy, one or two dark fronds falling over his broad forehead. And his bewitching
