Page 18 of Under A Sicilian Sky
‘Miss Locke, it is Jacopo. I come to get Nerone for bedtime.’
Relieved, she pulled open the door. ‘Sorry about that, Nero and I were watching TV. I lost track of the time.’
Jacopo smiled and nodded, but she wasn’t sure he had understood her. Her little friend jumped into his owner’s arms and Jacopo grinned. ‘Grazie. Until tomorrow.’
She raised her hand in a wave to them both and closed the door. She pulled her shawl around her shoulders and went back to the living room where she stoked the fire, then curled up on the couch, pulling a blanket over her, and dozed off as the TV talked to itself.
* * *
A door slam yanked her, rather rudely, from a dream where she was paddling in turquoise waters, hand in hand with a faceless man. She had been on the verge of seeing his face when the loud noise occurred, and it thrust her back to the memory of the night Tyler had dumped her.
‘Bloody hell, do people not get how to close a door quietly?’ she chuntered as she listened for further noise. She glanced at the screen on her phone and was shocked to realise she had slept through the whole night on the lumpy old couch. No wonder her neck was stiff. She presumed the noise to be the builders and realised she was in yesterday’s clothes which were now crumpled. She decided to make a quick dash for her room.
She poked her head around the door and spotted the back of a man with cropped dark hair, wearing scruffy jeans and a dirty T-shirt. He was speaking rapidly, in Italian or Sicilian, into a mobile phone. It appeared he was the only one to have arrived and she made a run for it before he turned around.At least his jeans seemed to fit nicely, she thought to herself, then immediately rolled her eyes when she realised that observation meant she had looked at his bottom.Get a grip, Ruby. You don’t need a man, especially not now.
Once she was dressed in capri pants and a baggy white shirt, she made her way back downstairs. There was no sign of the builder so she set about making a pot of fresh tea, thinking he may welcome a cup if he took a break.
The man returned, still speaking at a rate of knots into his phone. He placed down the metal toolkit he was carrying, chucked his chin at her in greeting and she smiled. His hair was almost black, short but floppy on the top, and his chin was graced with dark stubble. His arms were thickset, his chest broad and, in fact, he had a look ofDesperate Housewivesactor Jesse Metcalfe – a man she had never worked with but had met several times. And he had vivid blue eyes, the colour of the Tyrrhenian Sea.
She realised she was staring, and as her face warmed a little too much, she gestured to the teapot. He gave her a thumbs-up sign and smiled, revealing a set of perfect teeth. Although these were not veneers, like those of her former fiancé. These were just the natural teeth of someone with evidently brilliant dental hygiene.
Bloody hell, she thought,why is he a builder and not an actor or a model? He was far better looking than Tyler Harrison. And that accent certainly made her insides quiver a little.
She poured a cup of tea and quickly made a hasty retreat up to the covered terrace. She wasn’t there to ogle the staff, she reminded herself sternly.
She dialled Kitty and waited impatiently for it to connect.
‘Hey, gorgeous girl. How’s it going?’ Kitty asked eagerly.
‘Okay, I suppose.’ She huffed. ‘One of the builders has arrived so I’m no longer alone, but I need to find out which rooms he’s working on so I can avoid him.’
Kitty scoffed. ‘Avoid him? You can’t go avoiding everyone while you’re there, you daft woman. I know you; you’ll be starved of conversation before long. Does he seem friendly enough?’
‘Erm… I haven’t exactly spoken to him. He’s been on his phone rattling on to someone in Italian since he got here. I’m not sure he’s paid to do that, to be honest, but it’s none of my business.’
‘What does he look like?’
‘He’s… erm… you know, a builder.’ She shrugged. Her voice sounded strained even to her own ears. She paused and waited for Kitty to cotton on.
‘Ruby Locke… do I detect a hint of embarrassment in your voice? He’s a hottie, isn’t he? Is he a hottie? Come on, tell me everything.’ Kitty was getting rather too excited.
Ruby glanced over her shoulder. ‘Stop it, Kitty! No, he’s not ahottie, for goodness’ sake. I mean… he’s not ugly but…’
‘Come on, description please. Hair colour? Does he have hair? Does he have a beer belly? Come on! Let me live vicariously, you meanie!’
After another quick check over her shoulder, she whispered, ‘Okay, okay. He’s bloody gorgeous, Kitty. I mean, handsome, dark hair, tanned, but my guess is that he knows it. No one’s that perfect. I mean look at Ty. Gorgeous exterior but, boy, did he know it.’
‘Oooh, I need to see. Send pics, pleeeease?’
‘With what signal? You’re lucky I’m calling you. And what would Gerry think if I did that?’
Kitty’s husband came on the line. ‘You were on speaker and Gerry can appreciate a handsome bloke because Gerry is perfectly secure in his relationshipandhis sexuality, thank you very much,’ he said, and Ruby could picture his goofy grin.
She rolled her eyes. ‘Good grief, you two are as bad as each other.’
‘My wife is the bad influence, I can assure you,’ Gerry replied.
‘Anyway, even if Icouldsend them, I’m not taking photos of people without their permission.’
