From Venice With Love (9 page)

It was Nico’s arm that Lady Geraldine chose to lean on to keep her balance and they had to stop at frequent intervals to allow other people to pass on their way to the restaurants.

One of those people was another elderly woman whose head turned in surprise as she took another look.

‘Lady Geraldine? Jendi?’

‘Oh, my goodness. Winsome Black. What on earth are you doing here?’

‘I could ask you the same thing. What an astonishing coincidence.’

Lady Geraldine’s head shake was incredulous. ‘It’s a small world, isn’t it?’ She turned to Charlotte. ‘Winsome’s an old friend that I haven’t seen for years. We worked together once on a huge fundraiser for that children’s charity.’

‘One Last Wish.’ Winsome nodded at Charlotte.
‘Such a worthy cause. They made wishes come true for terminally ill children.’

‘This is my granddaughter, Charlotte,’ Lady Geraldine said.

‘And this is my grandson, Connor.’ The good-looking young man, who was clearly aware of how much space they were all taking up in the narrow corridor, smiled at Charlotte and offered her his hand.

She shook it with an equally conspiratorial smile. They had something in common, didn’t they? Here they both were in the company of grandmothers with…personality.

‘Charlotte and her fiancé are keeping me company,’ Lady Geraldine was confiding in Winsome. Her smile was poignant. ‘This trip is my last wish…’

‘Oh, surely not.’ Winsome smiled. ‘I seem to remember you telling me that age is only an attitude.’

Lady Geraldine opened her mouth but then noticed the human traffic jam they were creating in the corridor. ‘We’d better get a move on,’ she said. ‘But we must get together, Winsome, and have a proper chat.’

‘That would be lovely.’

‘How about afternoon tea? We could meet in the bar at, say, four o’clock?’

‘See you then.’ With a smile, Winsome continued on her way.

Charlotte wondered if the arrangement might be too much given that her grandmother had already said she needed a rest, but the sparkle in the elderly woman’s eyes chased away the worry that her condition was deteriorating and that this trip would prove too much for her.

‘Oh, look…the queue at the gift shop has gone. Let’s see what they have.’

Charlotte was quite happy to linger and look at the souvenirs available. The more time they spent doing things like this, the less time she would have to spend with Nico, alone in their cabin while Gran had a rest.

You could buy hand-blown crystal glasses and crockery with the Orient Express insignia. There were salt and pepper shakers, travel accessories in blue velvet, photo frames and even jewellery.

Lady Geraldine chose a specially bound copy of Agatha Christie’s
Murder on the Orient Express
. And then she ordered Charlotte and Nico to choose a gift for themselves.

‘A selection of wine glasses would be a lovely engagement present,’ she suggested.

‘You are celebrating an engagement?’ The tall man with a heavy accent who ran the gift boutique sighed happily. ‘I tell everybody that this is the train of love…’

‘This trip is the gift, Gran. Remember? We don’t need anything else.’

But the tall man was putting things on the counter in front of Nico. ‘For your beautiful lady?’ he murmured. ‘A special memory, perhaps?’

Blue velvet cases were being opened to display pearl necklaces on silver chains that had clasps engraved with the train’s insignia. Silver and gold bangles were similarly engraved. A chain bracelet had tiny silver charms like a train carriage, a conductor’s whistle and a pillbox hat but Nico was picking up another bracelet. He held it up to show Charlotte.

‘Do you like this,
cara
?’

Tiny silver hearts linked together. A delicate piece of jewellery.

Romantic.

Charlotte opened her mouth to tell him that she didn’t wear jewellery but out of the corner of her eye she saw the way her grandmother was pressing a hand to her throat. Holding her breath as she witnessed evidence of the love her granddaughter had finally found?

‘It’s…lovely.’ Let him buy it, she told herself. She could reimburse him later.

Nico not only purchased the bracelet, he insisted on putting it on Charlotte’s wrist. His fingers brushed her skin as he fed the rod of the clasp through the silver circle engraved with the name of the train.

He smiled at her then. Just the way he had when he’d sat at their table last night. As though she was the only woman in the world for him. As if he was so deeply in love that nothing else mattered.

She knew he was going to kiss her. The tall man wanted it to happen. Her grandmother wanted it to happen.

And, God help her,
she
wanted it to happen.

It was just a kiss and her lips were ready for it this time, already soft and slightly parted. If she sat down at a piano any time soon again, she would probably find that her fingers were instantly ready for the release of music too. The pleasure to be found. The connections between her fingers and her brain and her heart had unexpectedly been woken up after a very long sleep.

Like her lips had been?

Not that it was a passionate kiss, of course. Just a gentle pressure. But the promise was there. And no matter
how fiercely Charlotte told herself that she didn’t want this and couldn’t go there, her body was defying her. The shaft of desire was so much more intense after last night. How on earth was she going to cope with the rest of this journey? Where were some new barriers when she needed them?

At least Nico left her alone to do some more exploring after Lady Geraldine was settled back into her cabin behind a closed door. It gave Charlotte time to try and rebuild her defences. To plan how she could get through the next hours. Maybe one of them could sleep in here, on the seat? At the very least she could choose the top bunk so that she wouldn’t have Nico climbing past inches away from her face. What did he wear in bed? Oh, God…imagine him climbing up wearing nothing but a pair of silk boxers or skin-hugging cotton knit underwear. And even with the highly unlikely possibility that he had a pair of flannelette pyjamas in his bag, she’d still be aware of him sleeping beneath her, wouldn’t she? She would hear his breathing. Feel the warmth of his presence.
All
night.

Heavens, it was warm in here. Charlotte adjusted the central heating radiator beneath the window and even opened the top window a little for some fresh air. She was just beginning to feel calmer when Nico returned to the cabin.

He was carrying a bottle of champagne in a silver ice bucket. Two crystal glasses dangled from his other hand. He leaned against the door with a smile of invitation curling the corners of his mouth.

What woman would be able to resist?

Charlotte, that’s who, with her grandmother safely
shut away and all the good work of calming herself down undone in an instant.

It wasn’t hard to glare at Nico as though he was committing an unpardonable sin. ‘What on earth are you thinking?’ she snapped. ‘I hope you’re not planning to get me drunk so you can take advantage of me again.’

Again?

Nico shoved the cabin door shut with his foot. The champagne had seemed like a good idea. They were supposed to be celebrating their engagement, weren’t they? They didn’t have to drink the damned stuff. And what was wrong with trying to make this journey as pleasant as possible, anyway?

What
was
Charlotte’s problem?

‘Take
advantage
of you?’ He kept his voice quiet but allowed it to cool noticeably. ‘Is that how you see this?’

Her voice was small. ‘No.’

At least she had the grace to look embarrassed but it wasn’t good enough.

‘On balance, I suspect most people would consider you to be taking advantage of
me
right about now.’

‘You agreed.’ Charlotte had two bright spots of colour on her cheeks and her tone was accusing. ‘This was all
your
idea—’

‘I have gone out of my way to help you,’ Nico interrupted, dumping the ice bucket and glasses on the table by the window, oblivious to the glorious scenery of the Italian Dolomites rushing past in the distance. ‘And it is
not
because I have any intention of “taking advantage” of you. You are the complete opposite of the type of woman I find attractive.’

A curious expression changed Charlotte’s features. She looked…hurt? Disappointed? Surely not. The expression was gone as quickly as it had appeared but it took the wind out of Nico’s sails. His anger evaporating, he sank down onto the seat beside her. ‘Do you want to know the real reason?’ he asked.

‘Mmm?’ The sound was somewhat strangled but Charlotte was looking at her hands, which were clasped tightly together in her lap.

‘You fascinate me,’ Nico said simply. An honest statement, dragged from a deep place, possibly against his better judgement.

There was a long moment of silence but Nico let it ride as he tried to shut down the implications. Why did this interest feel so very different from the attraction a woman usually had for him? Was it a threat?

Very slowly, Charlotte finally raised her head. Her eyes were a dark, stormy grey and they were wide and puzzled. Fearful, almost.

‘Why?’ The word was a whisper.

Why indeed?

‘You’re a beautiful woman, Carlotta.’ The Italian version of her name came to his lips unbidden. ‘You are also very intelligent and successful. I have a great admiration for your professional abilities.’ He could feel a corner of his mouth quirk. ‘You are also surprisingly talented at playing the piano.’

A snort of mirth escaped Charlotte as she shook her head, encouraging a lock of hair to escape the tight ponytail she was wearing today.

Nico couldn’t resist catching that lock and smoothing it back behind her ear. ‘I believe that people come into
your life for a reason,’ he added quietly. ‘I find myself in an extraordinary place, if only for a limited time, and I have to wonder if fate has brought us together because we have something we can learn from each other.’

She was looking at him now as if he’d grown two heads. ‘Like what?’

‘I don’t know.’ Nico shrugged. ‘Maybe it’s your astonishing grandmother I was destined to meet. To learn how one can make the most of life until the very end. Or how to face the prospect of that end with such dignity and courage.’

‘Oh…’ Charlotte caught her top lip between her teeth but it wasn’t enough to stop tears rushing to her eyes.

Dio
…he hadn’t intended to make her cry. Nico extracted one of her still-clasped hands and held it between his own.

‘Or maybe I need to learn about family,’ he said. ‘The love you have for your
nonna
touches me very much. Right here.’ He brought her hand up to press it against his heart. ‘I don’t have a bond like that. Perhaps I pushed my mother away because of the childhood sadness of losing my father. Maybe that’s why I never want to marry or have a family of my own because I can’t imagine inflicting that kind of pain on children.

‘But half of me is Italian and it doesn’t feel right. I’ve ignored that sense for many years but seeing you with your
nonna
opened my eyes.’ His smile was wry. ‘I don’t know if it will change how I live my life but it feels right to be helping you.’

‘But you wouldn’t inflict that pain on your own children.’ He could feel the pressure as Charlotte started holding
his
hand instead of just letting hers be held.
‘Because you’d know what it was like. And even if the marriage didn’t work, you’d still keep your bond with your children. You’d fight for it. And win.’

She believed that. She believed in
him
. It gave Nico an odd frisson of…what, pride? Invincibility? Oh, yes…he could conquer the world if a woman like Charlotte truly believed in him. Except…

‘It’s not going to happen…’ The admission was being torn from somewhere that had been so well locked away maybe he hadn’t even been aware of it himself. ‘The kind of love that leads to marriage…and children…can only happen if you can fall in love. I think…I think that I’m not capable of doing that.’

There it was. His deepest, darkest secret. Something that he’d never said to anyone. From the shocked expression on Charlotte’s face she must realise the significance of his confession. But she didn’t believe it.

‘Why not?’

Nico had to swallow hard. Why was he putting himself through this? Because it seemed like a pathway to get Charlotte to open up about herself? If he stopped now, he’d never reach his goal.

‘I love my mother,’ he said quietly. ‘I can’t blame her for wanting to find happiness in her life and the men she falls in love with don’t seem to be able to provide that for very long. But I loved my father too and, even as a child, I could see that he was destroyed by losing the woman he loved so much. Falling in love can create so much pain. You either end up being destroyed yourself, like my father, or destroying others, like my mother has—more than once.’

‘That doesn’t have to happen. Not if you choose the right person who can give you what you need.’

‘What if you don’t know what it is that you need? How can you possibly make the right choice of a person to be with for the rest of your life?’ Nico shook his head. ‘No. It’s safer to never fall in love. Perhaps I’m lucky that I have that inability.’

Charlotte was still staring at him, a crease of concern between her brows.

‘But you don’t want to end up like Gran,’ she said, with a wobble in her voice. ‘Old and sick but with nobody to care about you. No child. No grandchild.’ Her voice trailed away as if Nico wasn’t supposed to hear her next words. ‘That’s what terrifies
me…’

‘So why are you alone?’ Nico turned so that he could look directly at Charlotte. ‘A beautiful, talented woman who should be thinking of having children of her own so that she can have grandchildren one day.’

There was no response other than a withdrawal Nico could both see and feel. As if the white witch from Narnia had waved her wand and turned his companion to stone.

Nico had bared a part of his soul here. A part that had never been shared before and never would be again. Charlotte wasn’t going to be allowed not to take her turn.