What Happens in the Alps... (24 page)

The phone call didn't come through until almost ten o'clock. By that time, Annie was dozing on the sofa, watching a repeat of
Inspector Montalbano
on RAI. Half an hour earlier she had finally succumbed to hunger pangs and had made herself a cheese salad. The shepherd's pie was in the oven on a low setting, beginning to look a bit burnt on top in spite of the sheet of foil she had used to cover it. When she saw it was Alex on the phone, she hoped he was hungry. After her salad, her appetite had left her. As it turned out, so had his.

‘Hi, Annie, look, I'm really sorry, but I just can't get away. It's mid-afternoon in the USA and the Americans are bombarding me with emails and phone calls. Would you mind if we have dinner together tomorrow night? To be honest, I've been nibbling at biscuits and drinking coffee all evening and I'm not that hungry now.'

Annie swallowed her disappointment and told him she had had a sandwich and they agreed that, come hell or high water, he would come down to her house the following night for dinner. Somehow, Annie didn't think the shepherd's pie would look too good after being reheated a third time so, once he had rung off, she dug out a recipe book and looked for inspiration. As she thumbed through the book, she analysed her feelings. They were a mixture of annoyance and disappointment. But there was also an element of relief; relief that this gave her more time to decide how the evening should end.

Part of her, a considerable part of her, was looking forward to what could well prove to be an inevitable progression from kissing and cuddling to an immensely exciting encounter in her big double bed. But the more rational part of her kept questioning her feelings at the thought of a man sharing her bed after everything she had been through over the last few years. The decision to offer him
linguine alla carbonara
was a lot easier to arrive at than the prospect of what might follow the meal.

Wednesday was madly busy. Both of the new teachers arrived that day and Annie went to the station to meet them. It turned out they had already got to know each other on the aircraft coming over and Annie was delighted to see that they appeared to be getting along fine together. As they would be living in rooms side by side for at least the next few weeks, that was a relief. Annie took them round to their accommodation and saw them settled in. As she would have her romantic dinner with Alex that night, she had arranged for Paolina to take them out for a pizza and show them around. Matt had obligingly agreed to join them if he managed to finish a particularly fiddly translation in time.

When she got to the school, it was mid-afternoon and Paolina was sitting behind her desk, wearing the Harrods jumper Annie had bought her. She looked very elegant and Annie told her so. Paolina smiled.

‘Thanks, Annie. But you're the one who chose it. So, how are the new teachers?'

‘They're lovely. I think they're going to be fine. I'm sorry I can't come out with you tonight, but I've got this dinner date I can't get out of.'

‘Not that you want to get out of it.' Paolina gave her a broad smile. ‘So, tonight's the night, is it?'

Annie felt her cheeks redden, rather regretting having told Paolina who her dinner guest was going to be. ‘I'm just cooking him dinner, Paolina. That's all.'

‘Of course, just dinner.' Paolina's tone made clear what she thought of that answer. ‘I told Matt and he agreed with me; third date, at your place, all very intimate. No question; tonight's the night.'

For some reason Annie felt particularly embarrassed that Matt had been told about this evening. Just at that moment, he came out of his office.

‘Hi, Annie. You look as tired as I feel.'

Annie smiled at him. ‘Why not take a break?'

He shook his head. ‘I've got to get this done by ten o'clock tonight at the latest.' He gave her a little smile. ‘Think of me while you're enjoying your big romantic dinner.'

‘For your information, I'm just giving him dinner. And only pasta at that.'

‘And they say romance is dead…'

‘Don't work too hard, Matt.'

Annie left the school at half past five and drove home. After a cup of tea, she set about getting everything ready, starting with herself. She took a bath in her luxurious bathroom and changed into some new underwear, a tight skirt and a V-neck top. After studying herself in the mirror at length, she changed the jumper for one a little less revealing. As she did so, she was conscious that her uncertainty about her wardrobe was symptomatic of her own conflicting thoughts about how this evening should develop.

She went into the bedroom to check that everything was in order; no dirty clothes on the floor or lying on the bed. She had put clean sheets on the bed not, she told herself, necessarily because she intended to use them with him, but because it was time to change the sheets anyway. Besides, it was always best to be prepared for any eventuality. In the kitchen, there wasn't much preparation to be done. By deciding to do
linguine alla carbonara
, she could delay cooking until Alex arrived, knowing that it would all be ready in less than ten minutes. After looking at her watch yet again, she settled down to watch the TV and did her best to calm her nerves.

She heard a car outside just after eight. She opened the door and saw that he had sensibly opted for a very smart-looking big 4x4, rather than the Ferrari. He climbed out and leant back inside to pick up a bottle of wine and she found her eyes glued, not to the shiny new car with a Porsche badge on the bonnet, but to his perfectly formed bottom. As he straightened up again and turned towards her, she flicked her eyes guiltily back to his face, her cheeks burning, not just from the freezing night air. She met him at the door and put her arms around his neck.

‘Hello, you.' She kissed him and he kissed her back, pushing her gently against the door frame as he did so. Her hands gripped his leather jacket and pulled his body towards hers. It was a very good kiss and, as opening gambits went, she had to admit that it was pretty special. At last, regretfully, she released him and ushered him through to the living room. ‘Welcome to my new home. Have you been here before?'

He shook his head. ‘No, but it all looks very familiar. It was built by the same builder as did my dad's place. You can see the family resemblance.' He set a bottle of champagne down on the table and shrugged off his jacket. He was wearing a beautiful, soft, light-grey, woollen jumper with a little green crocodile logo on the left breast. His dark hair was still damp from the shower and he looked very, very desirable. For a moment, Annie even found herself wondering if there was any need to bother with food, and her eyes flicked across to the bedroom door as an unexpected wave of lust swept over her.

‘Well, shall I open the champagne?' Unaware of the primal feelings aroused and currently rushing through Annie's body, he set about opening the bottle, while Annie did her best not to fall over as the emotion coursed through her. As she tottered over to the kitchen cabinet to get the glasses, she ran a hand through her hair and took a few deep breaths. She was lucid enough to see this for what it was – massive sexual attraction. She wanted him and she felt quite sure he wanted her. Everything else was unimportant. She picked up two glasses and returned to the table.

They drank champagne by the French windows, staring down at the flickering lights of Santorso. He told her all about his two weeks in the Caribbean, while she told him about her family holiday in Devon. She made no mention of the scene she had witnessed at Turin airport and the way she had misconstrued what she had seen. She told him how pleased she was to have a good number of enrolments and how optimistic she was for the school's success. He shared her excitement.

‘I've no doubt you'll make a great success of the school. Here.' He raised his glass towards her. ‘A toast; Santorso English Academy. Good luck to all those who sail in her.'

Annie clinked her glass against his. ‘And the Hotel Montalto; may you never have empty beds.' As she spoke, her eyes strayed once more towards the bedroom door.

As the level in the bottle dropped below halfway, Annie decided she had better make dinner before she was incapable of rational thought. Apart from the wine, his presence beside her, occasionally touching her with his long, elegant fingers, was having an intoxicating effect upon her. She went through to the kitchen and brought the water in the pan to the boil. She turned on the grill and laid the rashers of pancetta on the tray. She was just checking that the pasta didn't boil over when she heard steps behind her and felt his arms curl round her waist. She did her best to concentrate on the cooking as she felt his hands slip under her jumper and onto her naked skin. In spite of the pasta, her eyes closed and she leant back against him, feeling weak at the knees. He dropped his head so that his lips were resting gently against her ear.

‘Can I smell burning bacon?'

‘Oh, shit.' Her eyes were wide open now as she pulled away from him and rescued the pancetta in extremis. She glanced back at him. He was resting back against the fridge, watching her, a gentle smile on his lips. As he caught her eye, he asked, ‘Anything I can do?'

‘Um, grate some Parmesan and open the red, if you like.' She grinned. ‘I'm normally much more organised than this. Somebody must have distracted me.'

She tipped the contents of the pan into the two warm plates and carried them through to the table. Alex took a mouthful and declared it excellent. Annie wasn't so sure, but from the speed with which he emptied his plate, it couldn't have been too bad. For her part, she wasn't terribly hungry. Her mind was already on other things, things that would take place on the other side of her bedroom door. All her fears and doubts had evaporated the moment she had felt his hands on her.

She did her best to eat most of her pasta, but it was a struggle. He poured two glasses of Grignolino, Annie's favourite red from Piedmont. It was light, it was slightly fizzy, and it went admirably with the
linguine
, although her appetite was seriously flagging by the end.

She hadn't prepared a dessert, apart from buying a tub of homemade meringue ice cream from the amazing ice cream shop in the main square of Santorso. While they ate it, she put the coffee on. For once, the idea of being prevented from sleeping had distinct appeal. Finally, the meal was over and she was sipping her coffee, trying to look cool and relaxed, while inside she was on the point of exploding. She glanced across the table at him and noticed a few beads of perspiration high on his forehead, just below the hairline. She took comfort from the fact that he was probably equally excited at the prospect of what was to come.

Just then, annoyingly, his phone rang. She snorted silently. He took it out of his pocket and checked the caller ID. ‘It's Massimo. He can wait.' Alex swiped the red button and the phone fell silent. Alex swilled the last of his coffee around the bottom of his cup and swallowed it. He watched as she did the same and then he reached his hand across the table and took hers in his.

‘You're looking absolutely gorgeous tonight, Annie.' He stood up, still holding her hand, and pulled her up and into his arms. He leant down and kissed her with passion. She responded, feeling another wave of lust rush over her as his hands once more touched her naked body under her jumper. Then, just as she was melting under the effect of his touch, her phone started ringing.

‘I'm sorry, I'll turn it off.' She extricated herself from his arms and crossed the room to where she had left her phone, cursing under her breath. As she picked it up to turn it off, she saw the caller ID. It was Massimo. Regretfully, she looked back at Alex. ‘It's Massimo. It must be urgent if he's trying both of us. Is it all right if I take it?' Alex shrugged and nodded.

‘Hello.'

‘Annie, it's me, Massimo. Is Alessandro there?'

‘Hi, Massimo. Yes, he's here with me now. We've just finished eating…'

‘Please can I speak to him? It's very urgent. There's been an accident.' Annie ran back across the room and handed the phone to Alex. She stood and looked on as Massimo passed on the message. The conversation lasted barely a minute and ended with Alex saying, ‘I'll be right there.'

As the call ended, he put the phone down on the table and caught Annie's eye. ‘It's my dad. He's had an accident. He's fallen over and they think he's broken his leg or maybe his hip. The helicopter's coming now to pick him up. I have to go with him to hospital.'

‘Oh, Alex, how awful. Do you want me to come along?'

He shook his head. ‘No, there's no point lots of us going. I'll send you a text once I know more.' He took two steps across to the sofa and picked up his jacket. As he pulled it on, he gave her an apologetic look. ‘This is what's known as really bad timing.'

She opened the door and caught hold of his shoulders. She kissed him hard and looked up into his eyes. ‘There'll be a next time, and I'll be looking forward to it.'

‘Me, too. A lot.' He hurried out along the path and climbed into the car. Seconds later the powerful engine sprang into life and he was off.

Chapter 20

Annie was woken at two o'clock in the morning by the arrival of a text message from Alex. It was brief.

Dad broken hip. Otherwise okay. XXX Alex.

It took her a while to get back off to sleep again, her thoughts full of the old man and, of course, his son. She hoped that old Signor Lago would make a good recovery, but she knew that broken hips in old age could often take a long while to heal. As for Alex, she had fallen asleep thinking of him and her subsequent dream had been… well, not the sort of dream she would want to recount to her mother. She took a mouthful of cold water from the bottle on the night stand and lay back down again, her head still full of thoughts of him.

The ease with which all her hesitation and apprehension had been swept away by the touch of his fingers on her skin still amazed her. There was no longer any room for doubt in her mind. She was ready to move on. Her years with Steve had been a wonderful period in her life, but now that was over. She knew this with utter certainty. Somehow, deep down inside her, the final page of the book of Steve had closed. She could now move on to another.