New Title 1 (26 page)

“Pajama party,” he mouthed.

I couldn
’t help smiling. “Si, we’ll take the room. Grazie.”

The pensione was narrow and old-fashioned
, but clean and welcoming, too. Our hostess went by the name of Signora Battelli, and when Sebastian informed her that my surname was ‘Venzi’, she went off into paroxysms of joy that ‘Mr. and Mrs. Venzi have come home’, meaning we’d returned from America to the mother country. She had delightfully misunderstood him.

Our room looked like it was last refurbished in the 1970s
, decorated with an astonishing clash of vivid patterns, and garish pictures of saints. But I was so tired I didn’t care. There was a small sink in the room, and the shower was down the hall, shared, she assured us, by just one other couple.

She bustled off
, calling over her shoulder that breakfast was at 8
am
.

Sebastian threw himself down on the bed and it groaned slightly.

“Not as noisy as last night,” he said, smiling up at me.

“I don
’t think that’s even possible,” I agreed.

He unpacked our
overnight bag and tossed my toiletry bag onto the bed.

“Thanks for packing up my stuff,” he said
, looking over at me. “I thought I’d probably seen the last of these shirts.”

“What a tragedy,” I said, cattily. “You might have had to do something shocking, like b
uy T-shirts in different colors.”

He smirked at me, but didn
’t reply.

The bedroom window had old-fashioned slatted shutters instead of curtains. Sebastian
leaned over to open the window, and the sounds of revelry drifted up on the night air.

“Listen to that,” he said, dreamily. “Sounds like being in Italy.”

I stood and listened for a moment, a smile on my face. “Yes, it sounds… happy.”

He turned and looked at me. “Are you happy, Caro?”

I nodded slowly. “Getting there.”

“Good,” he said
, quietly.

I collected my
toiletry bag and headed for the shower. As I glanced over my shoulder, he was still staring out of the window.

When I returned, he was
leaning out as far as he could, soaking up the mild, night air. He looked relaxed and had a serene expression on his face. I didn’t often see him like that: it reminded me of how he’d been when I’d known him in San Diego.

“Back in a minute, baby,” he said, smiling at me.

While he was gone, I pulled on a baggy T-shirt that I used for sleeping in, and pulled out my laptop to catch up with emails.

My editor was fuming, still unable to expedite my travel documents. With a frisson of guilt, I
realized that I hadn’t even told him I was on the move. I tapped out a hasty email of explanation, and offered him a light travel article as a bonus.

Jenna and Alice had sent long and chatty emails about a new gallery they
’d been to see in Manhattan, with a particular mention of how the cheap wine had been undrinkable. I wrote to tell them I was traveling through Italy with an old friend, and that I’d finally seen the Leaning Tower of Pisa for myself. It made me feel comfortable to be connected and to have news from home.

True to his word, Sebastian returned quickly from the shower. He seemed relieved when he walked back through the door. Perhaps he thought I
’d run away while he was gone.

“You doing your writing?” he said, nodding at the laptop.

“No, just catching up with my girlfriends.”

“Did you tell them about me?”

“I told them I was traveling through Italy with an old friend.”

He looked disappointed
, but didn’t question me further.

“So, what do you want to do tomorrow?
” he said. “Look at more old buildings?”

I was amused by his tone: obviously he was trying to please me, but the look on his face screamed
no more old buildings or I’ll want to stab my eyeballs with a fork!

“
Whatever. This is all a bonus anyway. Where would you like to go?”

“There
’re a couple of surf spots I’d like to check out, if you don’t mind,” he said, looking hopeful.

“I don
’t mind, Sebastian. I could use some beach time: sleeping in the sun sounds perfect about now.”

“Ok
ay, cool!” he said, clearly relieved. “The surf isn’t great in the Med, but there are a few breaks that look like they might be rideable.”

He peeled off his T-shirt while he was talking
, and I couldn’t help my eyes drifting over his chest.
Damn, he was in good shape.

I dropped my eyes back to my laptop before he caught me staring.

I heard, rather than saw, the rustle of fabric as he tugged off his jeans. I couldn’t help glancing up, and noticed that he’d kept his briefs on. That was thoughtful. I knew I wanted him in my bed again, but not yet. This time last night, he’d been yelling at me, calling me an untrustworthy liar. Memories like that took some swallowing.

He jumped into his bed and lay back with his arms behind his head, smiling across at me.

“Are you going to tuck me in?”

I laughed. “I think you
’re old enough and ugly enough to do that yourself.”

“Ugly?”

“Hideous. I can hardly bear to look at you.”

“You could close your eyes.”

“I could, Sebastian, but I might get the urge to peek.

He thought about it for a moment. “Well, can I get a goodnight kiss?”

“Sure. I’ll ask Signora Battelli if she’s available.”

He pulled a face. “I
’ve never kissed a woman with a mustache.”

“First time for everything,
Sebastian.”

“Please, Caro,” he said, pouting cutely at me. “I
’ll be good. Promise.”

“Hmm, I
’ve heard your promises before.”

He looked so
sad and sort of lost, I couldn’t resist him anymore.

“Ok
ay, one kiss. But that’s all!”

He grinned at me, delighted he
’d got his own way.

I stowed my laptop back in its case
, and sat on his bed. He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me down gently.

I snuggled next to him and lay my head on his chest while he stroked my back.

“We’re okay, aren’t we, Caro?”

I could hear the anxiety in his voice.

“Getting there.”

I wriggled free of his arms and planted a quick kiss on his lips. He held me briefly, then let me go, an expression of regret on his face.

“Night, Chief.”

I turned off my bedside light and heard him murmur.

“Night, boss.”

The helicopter was so loud I had to hold my hands over my ears. The whirling blades kicked up plumes of yellow dust that coated my nose and throat so I could taste them. A man in desert fatigues was yelling at me, but I couldn’t hear the words. And then his face disappeared in a bloody mist.

“Caro, wake up!”

Sebastian was shaking me hard. I sat up, wide-eyed and trembling.

“Fuck, Caro,” he said, more quietly. “Another nightmare?”

I nodded silently.

“Come here, baby.”

He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me tightly into his chest.

I gulped in air; my lungs burned as if I’d been underwater for a long time, and I could almost taste the acrid dust in my mouth.

Damn, that had been a bad one.

“What was it about, baby?”

I shook my head. “Just a nightmare.”

“You can tell me anything, Caro,” he said, rocking me slowly.

No. Not anything. Not that.

But he didn’t press me, and I was happy just to have him hold me.

After a few minutes, my heart rate had returned to normal.

“Scoot over,” he whispered. “I’ll just stay till you go back to sleep.”

“Thank you.”

He slid down next to me and I felt his warm body press into mine. There was no anger, no ugly accusations, no tension: just his gentle hands around me.

Finally,
the nightmare drifted away, and I slept.

When I woke up the next morning feeling happier and refreshed, bright sunshine was filtering through the shutters, and Sebastian’s body was still twined around me in the narrow bed. His breath was hot on the back of my neck and his heavy arm pinned me down.

I tried to wriggle out from underneath him, but he mumbled something
unintelligible and pulled me in more tightly.

It felt good waking up in his arms. Hell, it felt better than good, it felt… right.
We still had some issues to resolve – pretty important ones – but I began to feel hopeful that we were getting there. Like I’d said.

I stroked his long fingers that were resting across my stomach
, and I felt him move, stretching out in the bed like a big, old sleepy cat.

I shifted
around so I could look at him.

A slow, sexy smile appeared on his face as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes.

“Wow, I’ve got this beautiful woman in my bed: I really like this dream.”

“Actually,
Sebastian, you’re in
my
bed.”

“Oh, yeah. You must be one of those fast women I heard about at boot camp.”

“Hmm, well, I think that lecture was supposed to warn you off them.”

“Oh, I guess I
didn’t hear it right. I suppose that explains why I didn’t get into Officer Candidate School.”