Husband By Necessity

‘That was all it took. It isn’t an easy society for a woman, especially one from a strange culture-’

‘Did she come from a strange culture?’

‘Who?’ he asked, sounding startled.

‘This woman who had coffee with a man.’

‘I don’t know where she came from,’ he said hurriedly. ‘Stella will be waiting for us with a meal.’

Stella had laid herself out to please, with flowers on the table and food served on the best china. The Montedoro grapevine had ensured that she already knew of the day’s dramatic events, and she treated Angie with a new touch of deference, anxiously awaiting her verdict on every dish.

‘Thank goodness,’ Bernardo said when Stella had finally left them to their coffee. ‘I’ve wanted to be alone with you all day, but there was always somebody else, and now the day has gone.’

‘Not all of it,’ she said. She was standing by a window that looked out over the valley. The darkness was descending, gradually concealing everything except some lights that flickered far below. This was a magic place, she thought happily, and the most perfect magic was to be with Bernardo.

He came to join her. ‘I’m glad you’ve seen my home like this,’ he said. ‘This is when it’s at its most beautiful.’

‘I know. I’ve never seen anything so enchanting.’

‘Angie-’ He moved his lips towards hers, and she waited, her heart beating.

The scream of the doorbell broke the spell.

‘Damn!’ Bernardo said violently, jerking backwards. ‘Who can it be now?’

It was Dr Fortuno, eager to talk to Angie. He was full of gratitude for her help, overflowing with explanations for his absence-his practice was spread so wide-he couldn’t be in two places at once, etc. etc.

He was an elderly man who looked tired from a long day, and even more tired from a long life and a demanding job. Angie swiftly formed the impression that he was a decent, well-meaning doctor in a basic way, but the advances of medical science had left him far behind.

Bernardo concealed his impatience, treated him courteously, plied him with coffee, wine, cakes, and listened with Angie while the old man said everything three times. By the time Dr Fortuno made his way out of the front door, still talking, two hours had passed.

With the door safely closed, Bernardo muttered, ‘Malediri!’

‘Is that a Sicilian curse?’ Angie asked with a rueful little smile.

‘Yes,’ he said. ‘It certainly is. And now it’s time for me to drive you home.’ He looked at her.

‘Yes, I suppose you should,’ Angie agreed doubtfully.

‘It’s late-they’ll be wondering-’

‘Yes.’

‘If he hadn’t called-’ she said slowly.

Their eyes met, and they both knew he wasn’t going to let her go without kissing her.

‘Bernardo…’ she whispered, and the next moment she was in his arms, her lips on his, in the kiss she’d dreamed of every moment since their first one that afternoon.

His lips were as warmly possessive as she’d known they would be, and as thrilling. The kiss was like the man himself, ardent, blunt, sincere. All the pent-up frustration of the evening was there in her, and she could feel the same in him. It was like meeting him all over again, but more sweetly, more intensely, and for ever.

‘Angie,’ he murmured, ‘amor mia…’

‘Yes,’ she said, feverishly caressing his lips with her own. ‘Oh, yes…’

She heard the click as his bedroom door opened, and she moved easily with him until they were inside. The rush of passion that possessed her was driving thought away, turning her into a single flame of desire. They had been made for each other, they’d both known that from the first, and it seemed only a short step to this moment when he drew her down on the bed.

His arms tightened, drawing her fiercely against him. Her lips parted readily to the insistence of his probing tongue and the next moment she felt him, the tip of his tongue flickering provocatively against the sensitive inside of her mouth. Through those movements she was vibrantly aware of every part of him and of herself.

Her whole body was his. It had already belonged to him even before he’d tried to claim it. Excitement was gathering strength within her, propelling her forward to the beauty that awaited, that she was eager for. As his mouth made a burning trail down her neck she arched against him, inviting his deeper exploration, thrilling to the feel of his hands beginning to rove more intimately over her.

And then, at the most beautiful moment, coming out of nowhere, shaking her with alarm, came the thought, This is more than I want.

One part of her ached with longing to lie with him and give herself up to her feelings, both physical and emotional. She wanted him, yearned for him. But afterwards? Did she want that? If she made love with this serious man it would no longer be a light-hearted holiday romance, for there was nothing light-hearted about Bernardo. Whatever he did he would do with passionate intensity, meaning everything with his whole soul. But that was too much.

Reluctantly she put up a hand, fending him off. ‘Bernardo, no-please-’

She had a glimpse of the fierce light in his eyes, then he shuddered and released her. He turned away fast and held onto the brass end of the bed, breathing hard. When he looked around his eyes were calmer, but his expression was still distraught.

‘You’re right,’ he said in a shaking voice. ‘It mustn’t be like this. I can’t treat you like a-you are more to me than that, more than anything. Forgive me.’ He pulled himself together. ‘It’s late. I must get you home.’

Neither of them spoke as he drove carefully down the mountain, and Angie was glad of the silence. It gave her shattered nerves a chance to calm down, and it also gave her time to ponder the meaning of Bernardo’s words. He’d backed off, just as she had, but for the opposite reason. By refusing to make love with her he’d mysteriously taken their relationship into the realms of love and commitment, where she had feared to tread. And with every part of her she found she was glad.

He came with her as far as the downstairs hall, and kissed her cheek as chastely as a boy with his first love. ‘Good night,’ he said, turning to go.

‘Aren’t you sleeping here tonight?’

He smiled ruefully. ‘I dare not. I can’t trust myself to sleep under the same roof with you. When this wedding is over, we-’

‘Yes,’ she said wistfully. ‘We will.’

‘Until then-goodnight, my love.’

The last day before the wedding. A shopping trip with Heather and Baptista, who insisted on buying them both gifts. She had seen a dress she thought would suit Heather, and wanted her to have it before the honeymoon.

‘I know you’ll be sailing most of the time,’ she said, ‘but when you put into port and go dancing, you will look beautiful in this. My Lorenzo is so lucky.’

While Heather was in the fitting room Baptista gave Angie a conspiratorial smile. ‘I’m so grateful to you,’ she said. ‘These last few days Bernardo has looked happier than at any time since I’ve known him. Perhaps we’ll soon have another wedding.’

‘Oh-well-’

‘Forgive me,’ Baptista said quickly. ‘That was clumsy. I would never try to rush you into marriage with Bernardo. He’s a strange man, in many ways, not like the other men, but I’m sure you’ve realised that for yourself.’

‘Very much so.’ Angie hesitated, ‘I know how he comes to be living as your son-’

‘To me, he is my son. I would gladly love him as I do the other two, for Vincente’s sake. It is Bernardo himself who will not allow it. Sadly, he can never regard me as any kind of mother. I think he feels it would be a betrayal of his real mother. There is a Sicilian saying “A man’s mother is his soul. If he loses her, he will never find her again.”

‘Sicily is still a very male-dominated society, almost nineteenth-century in many ways. So it may surprise you to know that our men take this saying seriously. Bernardo takes it very seriously indeed. I think-and I’m guessing, because he doesn’t confide in me-that he feels he betrayed his mother’s memory by coming to us after her death.

‘This may be why he’s never allowed himself to be part of the family, although we would have welcomed him. I