EXTRACT FROM AN ITALIAN AFFAIR

CHAPTER ONE

'I am sure we found the right place, Gina.  The special place I shared with my Matteo.'

Gina McNaught heard the emotion in her grandmother's familiar accented voice.  A mixture of wistfulness, anxiety and longing brought a gleam to faded hazel eyes, while a fierce determination radiated from the elderly lady's increasingly frail frame.  Once long ebony hair was now short and grey – more evidence of the relentless march of time.  Smiling against the melancholy realisation that there might not be many more years, Gina took one work-roughened hand in hers and gave a gentle squeeze.  She knew what this journey meant to her grandmother ... knew how important it was that they located the exact spot depicted in the faded black and white photograph now resting on the table in front of them. 

The photograph, and the story accompanying it, had intrigued and enchanted Gina since she had been a young child.  She never tired of hearing how fate had brought her Italian grandmother and her Scottish grandfather together, how Maria Tesotto and Matthew McNaught had met on a deserted beach ... and had fallen in love.

'There was no villa there in those days,' her grandmother continued, lost in her memories.  'But it is still secluded, unspoilt ... and the name gives it away, no?  Back then, people referred to the rock in the sea as Lancia del Nettuno –Neptune's Spear.  You can just see it in the picture.  And now we find Villa alla Roccia del Nettuno.  The villa at Neptune's rock.  Gina, it has to be right.'

'I'll find out, Nonna,I promise.'

'You do so much for me, ragazza mia.  Maybe too much, no?' she asked with a sad smile.

'Of course not,' Gina reassured.  'You mean the world to me.'

One increasingly arthritic hand cupped her cheek.  'And you to me.  But I worry that you have given up so much of your own life for me ... and your grandfather.  Since we left that damp old council house in Glasgow and came to live with you in your lovely cottage in Strathlochan you have spent all your time caring for us and making our lives comfortable when you are not working at the hospital.'

'Nonna – '

'I know.'  Her grandmother forestalled the interruption.  'You see your friends.  You love your job.  But there is more to life, Gina.  We never wanted you to end your relationship with Malcolm because of us.'

Gina ducked her head to hide her gaze.  No way would she ever tell her grandmother the vicious, hurtful things Malcolm had said.  'It wasn't like that, Nonna.  Things had run their course.'  They were certainly over when she had discovered that Malcolm's understanding of family and her own were so widely divergent.

'But it's four years and you've not dated at all!  I want you to be happy – as happy as I was for all those years with my Matteo.  I want you to find that special man who is right for you.  You should be meeting men, having fun, thinking of your own needs.'

Perhaps it was being back on Elba, where her own happiness had begun, that had put these ideas into her grandmother's head.  'I'm fine, Nonna.' 

It was a long time since she had allowed herself to have needs, or indulge in dreams of her own.  Real life hadn't worked out that way.  Not for her.  And maybe, having grown up with the fairytale, she couldn't bring herself to settle for anything less.  She had made her choices and she had no regrets ... even if she could scarcely remember how it felt to be a desirable woman.      

'Now you give up your holiday time and organise this trip, obliging the whim of an old woman.'

The words pulled Gina from her reverie.  'That's nonsense and you know it,' she rebuked softly.  'Besides, I have always longed to see Elba.  What better place could we come together?'  She smiled, but the reason for their visit here took the gloss of her pleasure, as did the sadness that dulled the light in her grandmother's eyes. 

'That is true, and you would have found a way to bring me here, no matter what, keeping the promise you made to me and your grandfather.  This means so much to me.' 

'I know, Nonna.'  Gina hid her worry about the toll this trip might take on a woman troubled by her aging, arthritic body, not to mention the emotions involved by returning to the place she held so dear while bearing the loss of the man who had been her world for fifty years.  'Will you be all right resting here on your own if I go back and see if someone has returned to the villa?'

Her grandmother patted her hand.  'Do not fret.  I am fatigued after our long hours of travel yesterday, that is all.'  

The journey, entailing a flight from Scotland to Pisa, and then a train ride to Piombino, the port on the Italian mainland from where they had caught the ferry to Portoferraio, Elba's capital town, had been exhausting.  And it had not ended until they had travelled to the unspoilt western end of the mountainous island, where Gina had booked a room at an inexpensive bed and breakfast, run from a private house.  The twin-bedded room was small, basic, but comfortable ... all she could afford on a tight budget. 

It was also close to Capo Sant'Andrea, a name her grandmother remembered, believing it to be near their ultimate destination.  Gina wasn't surprised her grandmother, now seventy years old, was feeling the strain – especially as she had insisted they begin their search for the right location along the stretch of the north-west coast first thing that morning.  Thanks to the taxi driver's local knowledge, they had struck lucky and found the hidden cove containing Neptune's Spear.  Gina could only hope that her grandmother would not be disappointed with the rest of her quest. 

'I'll go and make enquiries.'  Rising to her feet, Gina collected her bag.  'My mobile phone number is on the pad, and Signora Mancini has it, too.  She'll be here if you need anything.'  She was grateful to their kindly landlady, who had volunteered to maintain a discreet watch while Gina was out.  Her grandmother nodded, masking a couple of coughs, and Gina frowned, unable to dismiss a twinge of unease.  Bending, she kissed a soft, wrinkled cheek, sending up a silent wish that her outing would be successful.  'I'll do my best for you, Nonna.'

'You always do.  Bless you, ragazza mia.'

Moisture shimmered in wise hazel eyes and Gina forced a smile, blinking back the answering tears that pricked her own darker eyes.  'I'll see you soon.'

Keen to cut costs where possible, Gina declined the taxi that had been necessary that morning with her grandmother's decreased mobility.  Instead, she hired a bicycle and rode back along the narrow, winding roads of the cape towards the villa their search had identified earlier in the day. 

All her twenty-eight years money had been tight, but what the McNaughts had lacked in material things had been more than compensated for with an abundance of love, care and support.  She had revelled in being able to return that love and care by having her grandparents live with her for the last four years, seeing them benefit from Strathlochan's cleaner air, cosier conditions, and sense of community.  Any thought that she had put a part of her life on hold to do it she pushed to the back of her mind.  She had made her choices and had never had a moment of regret.  Now, though, her grandfather was gone, and the pain of his loss stabbed through her.  Her grandparents had never been able to return to Italy together, but she had vowed to help her grandmother see this through.

With only her nursing salary, it was a struggle to pay all the bills, to cover her mortgage and to meet her grandmother's needs.  The elderly lady's pension was a pittance and, despite a lifetime of hard work, her grandfather had been able to leave little behind in support.  She had a small amount left in an emergency fund, but Gina prayed she wouldn't need to use it – and that Nonna Maria wouldn't find out that she had cashed in her savings to pay for this Elban pilgrimage.

Coming to a halt at the the entrance to the villa, Gina paused a moment.  Taking in a breath of clean air, she marvelled at the landscape, the way chestnut woods swept down the hillsides to the coast.  All was quiet.  She stared at the sign on the gate across the drive that led to a home hidden from view amongst the trees.  Villa alla Roccia del Nettuno.  The villa at Neptune's Rock.  For her grandmother's sake, Gina hoped this was the right place – and that the owner would be understanding of the unusual request she had come here to make.     

Closing the gate behind her, Gina pushed the bike up the rough driveway.  She was glad she had worn trainers with her denim shorts and cut-off T-shirt, but when the villa finally came into view she worried that she was too casually dressed to make the right impression.  Whoever lived here clearly didn't have money worries. 

'Wow!'

She stared in admiration.  Long and low, the palatial villa had a classic Elban red-tiled roof, while the walls were painted a pale creamy yellow.  The garden was lush, the hilly terrain and native woodland lending perfect seclusion and privacy to the setting.  The sound of birds and the faintest rustling of a breeze in the trees were the only noises to impinge on the silent stillness of the afternoon.  Gina immediately felt at peace here, experiencing a strange sense of belonging.  She wasn't given to fancy, but she wondered if she was close to the place that was so special to her grandparents, if she somehow sensed their spirits here, reaching across the ages.

Shaking her head at such a notion, she propped her bike against the wall, took her bag from the basket and hooked the strap over her shoulder.  She walked to the front door, disappointed when no one answered her ring of the bell. 

Undecided, she hesitated.  They had come a long way, and this mission was important to her grandmother.  She couldn't give up now.  Perhaps she should wait for someone to return.  She could leave a note, asking for the owner to phone, but she would rather explain her purpose for coming here in person.  Feeling guilty for trespassing, she walked around the side of the villa.  It was huge, a U-shape around a rear terrace, and it looked as if her whole cottage would fit into a couple of rooms here.  The spacious terrace had a large table, comfortable chairs and recliners, plus an outdoor cooking facility.  Near the far end was an artist's easel and equipment, but she didn't venture across the terrace to inspect the canvas.  It was the view over the rocky cliffs and the sea that held her attention and took her breath away.  She had never seen anything so stunning – and that was saying something, given the spectacular scenery around Strathlochan. 

Drawn despite her caution, she followed a path through the shrubs which led to steep stone steps that marked the way down to the sheltered beach far below.  This must be where Maria and Matthew had walked together fifty years ago, before the villa had been built.  She had to go down there.  Had to see for herself the precious cove, the rock formation shaped like Neptune's spear, the spot where her grandparents' love had been born.

It was a daunting trip down the uneven cliff steps, and Gina knew that if this did turn out to be the right place there was no way her grandmother would be able to manage the journey down.  Once on the small crescent of beach, protected by the curving cliff walls, she had her first proper glimpse of the rock feature that rose from the water a distance off shore.  Irregular, and surrounded by other rock forms, it did, indeed, look like a massive trident ... Neptune's three-pronged spear... just as her grandparents had described so vividly and with so much fondness.

Gina absorbed the solitude, the natural beauty, amazed by the clarity of the water, a glistening mix of emeralds and azures.  Sitting down, she wrapped her arms around her knees.  The September sunshine was hot on her skin, and she tipped her head back, closing her eyes, imagining the moment her grandparents had met, the secret romantic rendezvous that had followed, their determination to marry despite Maria's parents' dissent.  Maria and Matthew had made it work, had survived the hardships to enjoy a lifetime of devotion.  All thanks to that one chance meeting on this tiny Elban beach.

Elba.  The name had a magic to it.  A magic sparked to life in her childhood as her grandmother regaled her with stories of this special place.  Gina would never forget the moment yesterday when she had seen Elba for the first time.  The mountainous outline of the island, jutting from the blueness of the sea, had shimmered into her vision and grown into reality.  All her life she had been captivated by the romance, the fairytale, the joy and love that coloured her grandparents' memories of this place.  She had been determined to come - one day.  Now she was here.  But in these circumstances?                 

Frowning, her thoughts turned to the reason for bringing her grandmother back to Elba.  She was concerned that the emotion would be too much, but her grandmother was determined, and Gina would never break the promises she had made.  Lulled by the peacefulness of the surroundings, she relaxed, some of the tension and responsibility she had shouldered for so long draining from her. 

The soft swell of the sea under the sun cast shifting light over the rock formation, highlighting a myriad of colour and texture.  At that moment, as she stared towards the mythical symbol, it seemed as if the very sea-god himself appeared from behind the rocks, swimming towards the shore with an easy stroke before rising from the water.  Gina gasped, startled from her reverie, wondering for a moment if the apparition was real or a figment of her imagination. 

He certainly looked real as he removed his mask and snorkel and waded towards the beach on a slight angle away from her.  The sheer masculine perfection of him held her spellbound.  As she watched, he ran the fingers of his free hand through jet-black hair, shedding water, sweeping the strands back from an arresting, impossibly handsome face.  A face that could have been sculpted from the surrounding granite by the hand of a master craftsman.  Yet he was undoubtedly flesh and blood ... human and all male.  Gina couldn't drag her gaze away from his athletic physique, appreciating the broad shoulders, the bronzed skin on which a sheen of water glistened, the supple muscles, and a chest dusted with dark hair trailing in a narrow line over a flat abdomen to his navel.  Black swim-shorts sat low on his hips, the wet fabric clinging to strong, leanly muscled thighs.

As he strode through the shallows to the beach, Gina felt overheated, sure she would melt on the spot.  Then he looked up, stilling as he noticed her for the first time.  The breath trapped in her lungs as their gazes met.  Her sea-god changed direction, walking purposefully towards her, the touch of his gaze firing her blood and tightening her stomach.  With more haste than grace, Gina scrambled to her feet as he closed the last of the distance between them.

An Italian Affair
Margaret McDonagh
Mills & Boon Medical Romance
In the Mills & Boon Presents anthology
Paperback – April 2008
ISBN: 978-0263865875
Copyright © 2008
Margaret McDonagh
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Cover copyright © 2008 by Harlequin Enterprises Limited
The edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
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Artwork by Jim Wylie