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CHAPTER 1
Emilia
After fourteen hours on my feet, I am ready to collapse into my bed. It’s been nonstop since I arrived at the hotel at eight o’clock this morning. I don’t usually work such long days, but Maddalena, who was supposed to take over for me at five o’clock, called in sick. With nobody to cover, I’ve been stuck behind this desk, dealing with bookings and fielding questions from the dozens of guests who’re currently staying here.When is the bus to Ravello? Where can I withdraw some cash? Why doesn’t my room have a view of the sea?It’s been relentless. My uncle’s boutique hotel is popular with discerning tourists, by which I mean demanding pains in the ass.
The only bright spot in my day was when the gorgeous guy who’s staying in one of our more modest suites called me upstairs to help him with the air conditioning. He thought it wasn’t working, but he just hadn’t programmed it correctly. Though it can be tricky, it’s not beyond the capabilities of anyone who can use a smartphone.
It made me wonder if he was looking for an excuse to get me up to his room. He did give me a flirtatious wink when he checked in two days ago. Sadly, when I went to his room, he didn’t show any signs of being attracted to me when we were alone. In fact, he frowned as he looked me up and down, as if I’d somehow pissed him off. I guess I’m not the type of woman he’s interested in.
The man is a demi-god. Visiting from New York, he’s tall with a mop of dark brown hair. His eyes are as blue as the Mediterranean on a sunny day. I don’t know if he’s a model, but he could be. With a muscular body that tells me he spends a lot of time in the gym, he’s as close to physical perfection as I’ve ever seen. Of course, I haven’t studied a lot of men with their shirts off. My family would never allow it.
The American,SignoreGreco, was wearing nothing but swim shorts when I went to his room, so I got a good look at the tattoo on the back of his right shoulder, a magnificent winged horse. I don’t know what it represents, but I imagined myself lying in bed next to him, tracing the outline of the tattoo with my finger. The very idea of it makes my skin tingle and my heart pound.
But, as much as I’d love for him to be the handsome prince who rides in here and carries me off to a life of adventure and romance, it’s never going to happen. We’re too different. Although he’s probably only a couple of years older than me, he carries an air of confidence that suggests he has far more experience of the world than I do. That wouldn’t be hard since I’ve led a sheltered life. I’ve never even left Italy. The farthest I’ve ever traveled was to Palermo, and that was for a family wedding. Constantly under the watchful gaze of my grandfather, I haven’t had the chance to spread my wings. Cloistered nuns lead more exciting lives than I do.
“Oh, Emilia, I’m sorry it took so long for me to get here.” My uncle Gianni’s voice breaks into my thoughts.
My shoulders sag in relief that he’s finally here. He rushes over, apologizing profusely. It’s obvious he’s been running. His face is bright red and his brow glistens with sweat. There was a time when my uncle was considered one of the most desirable men, not just in our small town, but the entire region. Sadly, since he settled down with my aunt Caterina, he’s lost most of his hair and developed an unsightly roll of flab around his waist. Always flustered these days, he isn’t the best advertisement for marriage.
“Your cousin refused to go to bed,” he explains, “and your aunt was very upset.”
It takes a lot of effort not to roll my eyes. Caterina is perpetually upset about something. I offer a sympathetic smile, knowing the hard time she gives my uncle. Caterina has a nervous disposition and finds it impossible to control my twin cousins. To be fair, they are incredibly energetic boys, and at eight years of age they aren’t afraid to assert their will. Gianni frequently has to step in to instill some order in their household.
“It’s okay.” There’s no point in making him feel worse than he already does. “It’s not as if I had plans for tonight.”
If I had an ounce of courage, I would have. My friend, Chiara, wanted me to sneak off to a party in Ravello with her. It would have been my first real night out. I’ll turn twenty-one in two days and I’ve never been to a party that wasn’t for a family member or a close friend of my grandfather. Chiara tried to persuade me to feign a headache and pretend to go to bed early. She thought I could sneak out through the staff entrance before Maria, our housekeeper, locked up and activated the security system.Although I long to escape my grandfather’s scrutiny, if only for a single night, I couldn’t summon the nerve to agree to the plan. I’m a complete chicken, but it doesn’t matter now. The last bus to Ravello is long gone.
“I know,stellina,” my uncle says, “and it’s not right. You should be allowed to go out more, see a bit of the world.”
Gianni is the only man in the family who seems to think I deserve more freedom. He’s the one who convinced my grandfather to let me work here. Even after three years, the old man still grumbles every time I have a shift, but my uncle placates him by assuring him I’m perfectly safe here.
“It’s not possible,” I say sadly. “You know how strictNonnois with me.”
My uncle shakes his head. “My brother, rest his soul, should have given you more freedom when you were a child. He should have let you have some fun while you had the chance.”
“Zio!” I scold. “You make it sound as if living withNonnois a prison sentence.”
He raises his eyebrows. “Isn’t it?”
“Of course not.” My protest lacks conviction because I don’t really believe what I’m saying. I huff out a breath of frustration. “It doesn’t matter. Soon I will be twenty-one. Perhaps I can start to live a little.”
“Yes,” my uncle agrees. “Soon things will change for you.”
There’s a hint of doubt in his voice that tells me he thinks it is unlikely my grandfather will ever loosen his grip. After all, he didn’t grant me any leeway to live my life the way I want to whenI turned eighteen. I guess I shouldn’t hold any hope I’ll ever enjoy the freedoms my friends do.
My life hasn’t been like theirs, though. My parents were killed in a carjacking when I was nine. I moved in with my grandfather straight away. He’d only just lost my grandmother, who died of a brain aneurysm completely out of the blue. He’s always been a tad overprotective of me, but considering the losses he’s suffered, it’s understandable.
Trying to banish the sadness that creeps up on me as I contemplate how different life might have been if my parents had lived, I grab my purse from under the desk and head for the door.
“Straight home now, Emilia,” Gianni calls after me. “The bars are packed tonight and there are lots of strange men out there.”
“Yes,Zio.” I wave off his concerns. Home is a beautiful villa, a mere five-minute walk from here. Although I have to pass several bars to get there, I’m confident of making it to the house unmolested. There’s rarely trouble in the town.
When I step outside after being indoors all day, the air is refreshingly crisp. The streets are still bustling with tourists, soaking up the atmosphere of the Italian seaside. I hurry toward home, not because I’m frightened something might happen to me, but because I want nothing more than to get into a nice, hot bath and soak until my bones no longer ache.
As I pass La Cucina, a restaurant owned by my uncle Mario, I wave to my cousin, Giorgio, who’s on duty as a waiter tonight. Too cool to return my enthusiastic greeting, he merely lifts his chin in acknowledgement of my existence. His expression, as always these days, is sullen. Where did this once sweet kid getsuch a negative attitude from? He’s fourteen, and you’d think he carried the weight of the entire world on his shoulders.
I continue on down the street and make a left. It’s quieter here, with just a couple of tavernas and a few shops, which closed hours ago. As I step off the curb to cross the road, my ankle twists and I stumble. Shrieking in horror, I throw my hands out in front of me to soften the inevitable fall.
