From Venice With Love (8 page)

So why didn’t she
feel
safe?

‘W-what did
you
say?’

Nico looked more serious than she’d seen him look all day. Even when he’d been arriving at a potentially fatal incident. The subdued look didn’t sit well on a face that was made for laughter. Her heart skipped another beat.

‘I told her that I would never hurt you.’

‘So she still thinks that we’re…we’re
engaged?’

Nico’s mouth twitched. ‘I’m afraid so. I couldn’t bring myself to cause her pain.’

It shouldn’t be such a relief. Not when Charlotte couldn’t see any way out of this.

‘And the train?’

Nico shrugged. ‘I have a free day. I have to get back to London. Why not?’

‘Because…it’s impossible. How could we keep this up for thirty hours?’ Charlotte had another try at tugging the ring off her finger, looking away from him as she did so.

She could see past Nico to where the final guests for the evening were leaving. Only her grandmother remained and the maître d’ was looking concerned, helping the elderly woman to her feet. Lady Geraldine was pointing towards the balcony. And now she was walking towards the door.

‘Nothing is impossible,’ Nico was saying.

‘She’s coming. She’ll guess. She’s not stupid.’

‘She won’t guess if you stop trying to remove that ring.’ Nico caught her hands. ‘If we…’

His hands moved, pulling hers up to his neck before he let them go. His hands kept moving, though, burying themselves in her hair. Cupping the back of her head and tilting it as he leaned in to cover her mouth with his own.

He was
kissing
her.

Just for show. To cover an awkward moment when Gran might have picked up on the tension between them.

Except…it didn’t feel like a pretend kiss.

Or maybe it did, for that first, startled moment as their lips made contact, but then Nico’s lips moved with a kind of question that Charlotte couldn’t help responding
to on some deep, instinctive level that totally overruled any conscious thought. Her lips parted beneath his and when she felt the touch of his tongue against hers all ability to control her thoughts vanished.

A fleeting hope that her grandmother would see them and stay well away to give them a private moment evaporated, along with any awareness of what was around them. Charlotte was completely lost in this kiss. Transported to a place she’d never been. A place where passion and tenderness combined to create an all-consuming fuel that could burn away anything and everything and leave only peace and fulfilment in its wake.

A kiss that promised everything. So much more than this touch of lips and tongues.

More…

And that was when Charlotte stopped being lost. She couldn’t do more. If she tried, Nico would find out and he would know what was so wrong with her.

That she could go so far and no further. Because she was not a real woman. Real women liked going further. They weren’t…
frigid
.

That did it. Just the tiniest echo of that hateful word was enough. Charlotte wrenched herself back from Nico’s touch. His jacket slid from her shoulders and puddled on the stone terrace. She could turn to see what had happened, scoop up the jacket and try to collect herself before acknowledging her grandmother standing in the restaurant doorway.

‘Oh…Gran…I’m so sorry. I…lost track of time.’

‘So I see.’ Lady Geraldine’s smile warmed the winter’s night.

Nico was rubbing his lips slowly with his forefinger,
staring at Charlotte, but now he also turned towards the door.

‘You must be tired, Jendi. Let me see you both back to your hotel.’

‘That would be lovely, Nico. Thank you. We have an early start tomorrow. I think we have to be at the Santa Lucia station by nine a.m. to catch the train.’

It was Charlotte’s turn to stare at Nico but he didn’t meet her gaze. Instead, he put an arm around her waist as they began moving.

‘No problem,’ he told her grandmother. ‘I’m an early riser.’

‘W
HERE IS HE
?’

‘I don’t know, Gran.’ Charlotte allowed a small seed of hope to blossom that Nico might fail to show up in time. Or maybe that odd squeeze in her chest was disappointment?

Yep. There was definitely an internal struggle going on here. The safest thing was to never see Nico Moretti again and that’s what she should want. And, yes, she could try and convince herself that she only wanted him around, continuing this pretence of a relationship, because it was such a joy to see her grandmother so happy, but there was no way of hiding the real truth. Part of her—a big, rebellious part of her—simply wanted to be close to him again.

‘Maybe something came up.’ Like a bout of common sense? ‘He doesn’t have our phone numbers so he might not have been able to let us know.’

The train was already here at the station, the sleek, dark blue carriages with the gold trim, the coat of arms featuring two rampant lions and the lettering announcing that this was, indeed, the Venice Simplon Orient Express. As if anyone could mistake it! Among the ordinary
modern European trains in the station, this one stood out like a beacon. So did the attendants. The gold-trimmed blue uniforms looked positively military and the pillbox hats the stewards were wearing made them look ready for a fancy-dress party.

The check-in desk stood out on the grey concrete of the platform in equally startling contrast. A red carpet, of all things, with brass posts holding tasselled ropes to create an oasis of luxury amidst the mundane. Even the people milling around looked different. Like that young woman in a long coat that belonged to another era, its fur collar turned up around her neck. The people were generally better dressed, certainly, but that wasn’t the only difference. There was an air of excitement that encased this part of the station and separated it from the rest. From the real world.

‘I knew we should have offered to let him share our water taxi.’

‘It would have been a bit of a squeeze with all your luggage, Gran.’

It had, in fact, taken an impressive tip to get the water taxi driver to leave his boat tied up and carry Gran’s bags up the daunting flight of stairs leading into the train station from the road beside the canal. ‘You did know you’re only supposed to have one cabin bag and one piece of luggage to be checked in, didn’t you?’

Her grandmother sniffed. ‘If you’re going to do the Orient Express, it must be done in style. Everybody knows that. Goodness knows how you get away with nothing more than an oversized handbag.’

Cabin luggage hadn’t been all Charlotte had been carrying on her way to Venice, of course. She’d had
her laptop bag to contend with as well. An accessory that was now lying on the bottom of a Venetian canal. She could remember the expression on Nico’s face as he’d realised what had happened. So apologetic, even though it hadn’t exactly been his fault. The willingness to do whatever he could to put things right.

He was a kind man. And a generous one. The tailored suit jacket Charlotte was wearing again today suddenly felt tight. Scratchy, almost, as her senses replayed the sensation of the silk lining of Nico’s jacket against her bare skin. A sensation that morphed almost seamlessly into remembering that kiss.

How kind was he? Kind enough not to reveal astonishment…
disgust
…when he found out what Charlotte was lacking?

And then there was that very tiny seed of what was definitely hope because that kiss had made her feel things that no other kiss ever had—even Siegfried’s. And if just a kiss felt that different, maybe other things would feel different too and maybe…just
maybe
…she’d be able to—

Oh,
help…
Wasn’t it enough that her memory of that little scene had kept her awake virtually all night? She couldn’t allow it to keep distracting her like this. Charlotte balanced her cabin bag on top of Gran’s biggest suitcase and grabbed the handle of the other with her free hand. With a determined shove she began moving the luggage towards a check-in desk that looked suspiciously like an antique mahogany piece. Lady Geraldine pulled the handle of her smaller bag as she followed.

‘You’re going to have to wear the same dress for dinner tonight that you had on last night, aren’t you?’

‘What was wrong with my dress?’ It had been the first time Charlotte had worn the slinky, silver number but she’d been delighted with how it had looked when she’d put it on. How good it had made her feel.

‘It’s a lovely dress, dear. You just need more than one of them.’

It was a lovely dress. And if Charlotte was honest, she’d felt way more than simply ‘good’ in it. The way Nico had run his eyes over it more than once, as though the experience was a pleasure all in itself. Yes…that dress had made her feel
beautiful
. An odd experience for a woman who did virtually nothing to enhance her appearance in order to attract the attention of the opposite sex.

‘Nobody’s going to know I’m wearing it two nights in a row.’ Charlotte smiled at the woman behind the desk and handed over the tickets.

‘Apart from your fiancé.’

The woman behind the desk was smiling. ‘You must be Lady Geraldine. We got your message. We’re delighted to be able to welcome Dr Moretti on board to accompany you and your granddaughter.’

‘Um…there could be a small problem…’ Charlotte began. But the woman wasn’t listening. She wasn’t even looking at her and the expression on her face suggested that she was looking at something far more interesting.

A tall and extremely attractive man, perhaps?

‘Cara…’
The endearment was a caress. ‘I’m so sorry I’m late.’ Nico pulled Charlotte into his arms and then bent to brush her lips in a perfectly acceptable kiss for a public place. Except it lingered for just a heartbeat too long. And his eyes lingered on hers even longer. Charlotte
dragged in a breath. The part of her that wanted to be close to Nico was winning. Doing a happy dance inside her chest that made her heart thump and send extra blood up to warm her cheeks. The wash of relief was unmistakeable and hot on its heels was something she hadn’t felt in years.

Excitement. The kind a small child would have creeping downstairs too early on Christmas morning and seeing the magic of the gifts under the tree. Gifts for
her
.

Did she dare to pick one up and rattle it? Tear off a tiny piece of wrapping paper to see if she could guess what was inside?

But what if it wasn’t what she wanted? Maybe the anticipation was better than reality.

‘I went to the hospital,’ Nico explained. ‘I knew you’d want to know how our man from yesterday was getting on.’

To her shame, no doubt due to the emotional roller-coaster the day had presented, Charlotte had barely given the man another thought. So much for her heartfelt presentation yesterday about the medicine they practised being about the people. But Nico was right. She could feel her face light up in her eagerness to know the outcome. This was the kind of excitement she was used to.
This
was what she needed to focus on.

‘He’s doing well.’ Nico’s smile was one of pure delight. ‘He had an angioplasty and half a dozen stents put in. His broken leg’s been sorted and he’s sitting up in the coronary care unit and you’d never know he’d been dead for a while. No evidence of any brain damage even.’

‘Really? That’s…astonishing. Our CPR must have been up to standard, then.’

‘A little more than that, I think.’ Nico put his arm around Charlotte’s shoulders as he turned towards Lady Geraldine. ‘We are an amazing team. And here we are, about to have an adventure. I am The happiest man on earth.’

Lady Geraldine was beaming at them. The check-in clerk was smiling mistily but then she collected herself. ‘Here are your boarding passes. We’ll take care of the suitcases and you can take your cabin baggage with you. I wish you the happiest of journeys.’

Lady Geraldine merely nodded. ‘It will be,’ she said softly. She winked at Charlotte. ‘All that remains to be seen is which of us is the happiest
woman
on earth today.’

Lady Geraldine needed some assistance to climb up the steps And negotiate the narrow corridor of the train carriage. The first impression was the glow of polished wood and brass. And lights. Lamps casting a soft glow. Fairy lights in honour of the season, looped at ceiling height on the internal wall and twinkling merrily. The doors had small wreaths festooned with artificial cherries and tiny golden bells.

Even more overwhelming than the warm glow of the wood and lights was a sense of confinement. The cabins were tiny with no more than a richly upholstered double seat and a tiny table beneath the window. A washstand was cleverly incorporated into a corner.

For most passengers this would have been their total space but with a suite, a door beside the washstand cabinet was open, leading to the adjoining cabin where the
seats had already been turned into comfortable-looking bunk beds with crisp white linen and soft-looking towels folded on the ends.

For one person, it would have been the ultimate in spaciousness aboard the train. For a couple, it still would have been more than enough. To share this amount of space with Nico Moretti was something entirely different. There didn’t seem to be enough oxygen in the small spaces.

Their personal steward served champagne as the train pulled out of Santa Lucia station while Charlotte was checking that Lady Geraldine was settling comfortably into her suite. Nico joined them as the steward pointed out features of the cabins, including the bell that would summon him for assistance at any time of the day or night.

‘The maître d’ will visit your cabin soon to take your lunch and dinner reservations. Our restaurant cars have tables for two or four people.’

‘We are a party of three,’ Charlotte informed him. And how lucky was that? No chance of an intimate table for two with soft lighting and too much champagne. If she could put up good enough barriers around that part of her that was so drawn to this man she would be safe from making a complete fool of herself.

Was that a significant look that her grandmother was sharing with Nico?

‘This is your gift,’ Charlotte added, for good measure. ‘And we intend to share every possible moment of it with you. Don’t we, Nico?’

Nico seemed to be relishing the champagne and he merely lifted his glass in a toast of agreement.

There wasn’t room for three people to sit in one cabin. Charlotte sat beside her grandmother as they opened and perused the map of the journey. Nico stood near the door, apparently enjoying the scenery through the corridor windows and chatting to other passengers as they went past.

They chose the first sitting for lunch and it was Nico who insisted on helping Lady Geraldine negotiate the route and cope with the sometimes jerky motion of the train. It took a long time to get through several carriages and through the bar car before they got to one of the restaurant cars, especially when everything had to be explored and admired.

‘The bathroom is amazing,’ Lady Geraldine declared after their first stop to wait for her, which was right beside her suite at the end of their carriage. ‘The toilet seat is made of mahogany and everything else is brass. Even the cover for the paper. And it’s all so clean and shiny.’

The resident pianist was not yet playing the baby grand piano in the bar but they had to stop there as well.

‘Play something, Charlotte,’ Lady Geraldine commanded.

‘I can’t do that.’ Charlotte was horrified. ‘I haven’t played a piano for years and I’m quite sure it’s not allowed, anyway.’

But the handsome young man polishing glasses behind the wooden bar grinned. ‘Go ahead,’ he invited. ‘It’s too early to bother anyone.’

‘Please, Charlotte.’ Lady Geraldine was heading for a nearby seat. ‘For me? It’s so long since I heard you play.’

And she might never hear her again?

‘Yes…Please, Charlotte.’ Nico’s smile was mischievous. ‘I’m curious about your splinter skills.’

Oh, for heaven’s sake. Charlotte realised she wasn’t going to win and the best way of avoiding stress in getting through this voyage was clearly going to be taking the path of least resistance. She slid herself onto the piano stool and raised the lid on the gleaming keys. She had taken lessons for years as a child and playing for pleasure had been a feature of every visit to her grandmother’s house. Until…until her life had changed overnight.

Her hands shook for a moment as she held them over the keys. Maybe the least stressful response would have been to refuse to do this but now it was too late and if she didn’t, she might be expected to provide an explanation.

Flicking a glance upwards Charlotte knew that Nico had seen the tell-tale tremor of her hands. She willed them to be still. Willed herself to continue, much as she’d forced herself to start that presentation in Nico’s presence yesterday. The only piece she could think of to play by heart was Beethoven’s ‘Moonlight Sonata’.

The first notes were tentative but the piano was beautiful and within a few bars Charlotte was drawn in to the haunting sound of the music. Her stiff fingers relaxed as she remembered the release that this had once brought her. The pleasure of doing something for herself that had nothing to do with work. Mindless and satisfying and restorative. Just…pleasure…

‘Bravo…’ Nico’s eyes were full of admiration as the last notes died away.

‘I knew those piano lessons were worth every penny.’
Lady Geraldine held her hand out for Nico to help her to her feet. ‘Now, let’s go and have some lunch.’

The lunch was three courses of beautifully prepared and presented food but Lady Geraldine only picked at hers and didn’t touch the tarte tatin served for dessert.

‘I’m a little tired,’ she confessed. ‘I think I’ll go back to my cabin and rest for a while.’

‘I’ll come and keep you company,’ Charlotte offered immediately.

‘No. I might need some help to get back without being knocked off my feet but I need some quiet time. I might have a nap.’

Charlotte felt her level of concern ramp up. Gran hadn’t eaten much and now she looked pale. Was she in pain?