The Italian Effect

‘It’s uncanny,’ she murmured as her eyes went from one group to another. ‘It’s almost as if the world has stood still since I was here the first time. Absolutely nothing has changed while I’ve been away.’

There were the same family groups, the same honeymooners still besotted with each other, the same group of predatory young men eyeing the scantily clad girls giggling their way across the beach.

‘No. Something has changed!’ she exclaimed under her breath in mock surprise when she heard the accents of the target of the young men’s comments. ‘They’re after new prey today—Scandinavian, perhaps?’

She wondered idly what had happened to the group of English girls being pursued last time she was here. Had they succumbed to the false smiles and well-practised lines, or had they seen through them in time?

‘Signorina?’ said a voice nearby. ‘Mi scusi. Sei medica?’

Lissa groaned silently as she rolled over and sat up. That was all she needed…another medical problem on a beach this far from proper hospital facilities. It must be someone who had recognised her from the other day.

She looked up at the young woman standing in front of her and suddenly realised that she recognised her.

‘Maddelena!’ she exclaimed, rising to her feet and finding herself wrapped in a fervent hug. ‘How is Taddeo? Is he well?’

‘Si. He is well. We have brought him back to the beach with the whole family so that he will have good memories. Come and see.’ She grabbed Lissa’s hand and gestured towards the other side of the beach. ‘He is over there with my mother. Come. You must join us.’

Lissa paused just long enough to grab her belongings then threaded her way through the various groups of holidaymakers towards an older woman waving a welcoming hand.

Introductions were made and Lissa found herself once more enveloped in an enthusiastic embrace.

‘What would we have done if you hadn’t been here to take care of our Taddeo?’ Maddelena’s mother exclaimed. ‘How can we thank you enough?’

Lissa tried to downplay her contribution, but she wasn’t having it.

‘No, no! We think you’re a heroine!’ she exclaimed, gesturing towards the rest of the family for confirmation. ‘Please…sit. Join us!’

It wasn’t long before they were also trying to bully her into joining them for some fast and furious games on the beach. Maddelena’s brothers and sisters and cousins were numerous enough to form two complete opposing teams.

With Taddeo only recently released from hospital, it was inadvisable for him to be involved in quite that much rough and tumble, so Lissa opted for keeping Taddeo occupied with Maddelena’s mother.

Soon enough the whole family rejoined them on the array of blankets and deck-chairs for the most sumptuous of picnics and a lazy hour of recuperation while she was regaled with numerous tales of family misdeeds and successes.

It was no hardship to listen when she realised just how often Matteo Aldarini’s name was included, in spite of the fact that he wasn’t actually a member of the family.

‘That’s my daddy,’ Taddeo had announced proudly the first time it had happened and she’d smiled at him. She’d been quite surprised to find out that although the youngster couldn’t remember much of the accident, he seemed to remember her quite clearly from her visit to his bedside in the paediatric ward.

‘He told me you carried me to his hospital on a surfboard when I hit my head,’ Taddeo continued, chattering so brightly that it was obvious that he’d suffered few after-effects from his mishap. ‘I fell on those rocks.’ He pointed at the wicked piles of broken limestone that could so easily have been the cause of his death.

Unfortunately, the sparkle in his eyes suggested that he was the sort of daredevil child whose accident wouldn’t put him off the next reckless challenge.

‘Who’s going swimming?’ demanded one of the cousins and there was a noisy response as everyone erupted from their lazy relaxation.

‘Will you swim with me?’ Taddeo demanded with a grin. ‘I’m good. I bet I can race you.’

A quick glance at Maddelena confirmed that he’d been cleared to swim.

‘I’ll look after him,’ Lissa promised and they were off across the beach at a run.

He launched himself into the waves with a shriek almost as soon as the water came up to his knees and it was soon obvious that his words hadn’t been an idle boast. He wouldn’t have to be able to swim much faster before he could beat her, legitimately. She’d only had to shorten her stroke slightly to allow him to pull ahead of her.

‘You swim like a fish!’ she exclaimed when they came up for air at the float anchored a little way out from shore. ‘How old were you when you learned?’

‘My daddy took me in the sea when I was just a baby. Only one year old. He said I was like a baby frog.’

‘Taddeo the tadpole,’ she said in English and chuckled, remembering that ‘Taddy’ was the nickname her mother had called her when she’d been learning to swim.

‘What is a tadpole?’ he demanded. She racked her brain for a moment but couldn’t remember the Italian word although she was sure her grandmother must have taught her once upon a time.

‘I’ll tell you when we go back on the beach,’ she promised, knowing that there was a dictionary in her bag. ‘Are you going to race me back? I need to practise.’

She could see that several of the younger members of the family had started to build an ambitious sand castle and thought that would probably be better for the youngster than too much swimming. At least he would be no more than a few steps from the blankets if he grew tired.

Not that he seemed lacking in energy as he ploughed his way through the water beside her.

Lissa was watching him so closely that she didn’t see another figure approaching so that when the water burst into a fountain beside her and Taddeo’s body was thrust right up into the air she gave a shriek and sank under the surface.

She’d swallowed several mouthfuls and was coughing and spluttering by the time she surfaced to find Taddeo suspended from his father’s hands and screeching with delight.

‘I am so sorry,’ his father said remorsefully as he reached out a hand to support her, Taddeo held against one broad shoulder with the other. ‘I wanted to surprise my son and I didn’t realise you hadn’t seen me coming.’

She couldn’t speak for a moment, having to concentrate all her energies on drawing her next breath without coughing.

‘Are you all right? Do you want me to help you to the beach?’ He must have put the child back in the water because now he had pulled her into his arms and was supporting her against his body.

Lissa shook her head as she heaved in another breath and realised with gratitude that it wasn’t going to trigger another bout.

‘I’ll be all right,’ she gasped and looked up into his face for the first time, straight into the dark intensity of deep brown eyes shot with unexpected streaks of gold.

Even in his car she hadn’t been this close to him and when she realised just how much contact there was between their nearly naked bodies she grew still.

As she was still out of her depth, he was supporting her in the water and she could feel the movement of every muscle in his powerful legs and lean torso as he controlled their combined weight. And he was so warm, his skin a deep bronze against her lighter gold with a dark swathe of wet hair spread right across the width of his chest.

‘I…I’m all right,’ she stammered and tried to lean away from the disturbing contact, but there was nothing to push against except him and her legs tangled between his, making the contact even more intimate. ‘If you let me go, I’ll swim back to shore.’

She glanced in that direction and saw that Taddeo had already reached the beach and joined the sandcastle construction crew.

‘But what if I don’t want to let you go?’ he murmured in a husky voice and tightened his arms fractionally.

Her eyes flew back to his in surprise. Not want to let her go? What was he saying?

‘Some of my ancestors were fishermen,’ he continued, the deep rumble of his voice reaching her through the contact between their bodies as much as through the air. She almost felt as if she was aware of him with every fibre of her body. ‘If a fisherman rescues a mermaid he would never just let her go without making sure she was all right. Then, if he’s lucky, she’ll reward him for taking care of her.’

‘You want a reward?’ she whispered, the words barely louder than the sound of the water around their bodies as she tried to come to terms with the idea that he might be flirting with her.

It took several seconds before she realised that her own question had sounded flirtatious, and that he’d taken it that way.

‘Of course I want a reward,’ he asserted warmly, his eyes flicking from her eyes to her mouth and back again.