Page 25 of Under A Sicilian Sky
Just then the Italian builder turned and saw her. ‘Oh great, just what I need. Mrs Bloody Bossy Britches actress coming to tell me how selfish I am for letting the damn roof fall in, no doubt,’ he said… but not in Italian… inEnglish… with a distinct and strongScottishaccent.
She was tired for sure, but confusion clouded her mind.So, he’s the Scot I heard?Nothing was adding up.
Indignant, she stepped towards him and opened her mouth to speak but clamped it shut, unsure what the hell was going on. Perhaps she was dreaming, and in her mind she was getting the builder and the Scottish owner of the house mixed up? She pinched her arm.Nope… I’m awake.
He glared at her. ‘Aye, you’ve figure it out, eh? I’m not Italian after all. Even though you just presumed I was. Now, are you going to just stand there or are you going to go back to your room where you’re safe and out of ma way?’ he asked, rather too snottily for Ruby’s liking. His angry demeanour was exacerbated as another flash of lightning highlighted his scowl.
The thunder crashed again, and Ruby physically jumped forward with the shock, landing only an inch away from the builder. She felt utterly ridiculous, like some damsel in need of rescue by a big, strong man. But she was none of the above and never had been. She couldn’t help watching him as he watched her. His breathing was ragged as he stared down at her, his hair glistening where the rain had ingressed and soaked him.
She felt a little breathless and unsettled to say the least. ‘S-so, you’re theownernot thebuilder,’ she stuttered, then immediately felt stupid as she had stated what was evidently obvious to everyone else.
He angled his head to one side but was still a little too close for comfort. ‘The penny’s dropped finally. I thought maybe the whores and dolphins had addled your brain with all that moaning.’ She saw the hint of a smirk grace his lips.
She scrunched her brow, not a clue what the hell he was waffling on about but put it down to the shock of the damage. She stepped back and wrapped her hoodie around her, suddenly very conscious of the effect the cold was having on certain parts of her body – at least she told herself it was the cold. Annoyance niggled where the confusion had once been. ‘Hang on, why didn’t you correct me when I thought you were Italian?’
He cringed. ‘Look, I was just messing with you.’ He shrugged. ‘It was entertaining watching you trying to speak “my language”. I’m sorry. Can we start over? Although maybe not right now, eh?’
She wasn’t sure whether to be amused or even more peeved at the man, however, she realised there was a more pressing issue at hand. ‘Okay… fine. Can I help at all?’
He shook his head and kicked at the rubble. ‘Na. Nothing I can do till the storm passes. Me and Jaco will go up and put a tarp over the bloody hole,’ he said through gritted teeth. ‘Go back to bed, eh?’ He looked so despondent and Ruby felt a pang of pity for him.
She tucked her hands inside the sleeves of her hoodie as the chill of the open air nibbled at her skin. ‘Can I maybe make you a hot drink for when you come down? You’ll be freezing.’
He turned to her again. ‘Thanks, but I have no idea how long we’ll be. Just go back to bed. No point us all freezing our bits off.’
She sloped off to bed and once again pulled the covers over her head. The storm raged on for hours and only when things went a little quiet did she tiptoe out of her room to find the hole had been covered and the men were gone.
12
Sleep evaded Ruby for the rest of the night, so the following morning she eventually gave up and clambered out of bed with a thumping headache – no doubt due to both the copious amounts of coffee she’d consumed with Clark the previous dayandthe realisation that the Italian builder was in fact the Scottish owner.
She fired off a text to Valerie to ask the name of the villa’s owner, explaining that there was a Scottish man here that she wasn’t expecting. Valerie replied quickly.
His name is Mitch Adair. I wasn’t aware he would be there either. Sorry about that. Crossed wires. He’s apparently a nice guy though and only 34, wink wink. So you should be fine. V x
Ruby chuntered that he was so nice he’d let her carry on thinking he was Italian when he wasn’t and she’d made a fool of herself because of it.
She made her way down to the kitchen and found Mitch sitting at the table drinking fresh coffee. The smell of it turned her stomach.
‘Bon Jovi,’ he said, and she glanced over to see him smirking. ‘There’s still some coffee in the pot.’
‘I’m good thanks. Water’s fine. I think I have a coffee hangover.’
‘Ah yes, from when you escaped.’ He chuckled, but she didn’t find his choice of words amusing.
Silence fell and Ruby tried to decide if she was hungry or if the queasiness she felt was simply a combination of yesterday’s coffee overload and irritation.
‘How’s the roof?’ she asked, thinking back to the events of last night.
Mitch huffed. ‘A mess. I’ll need to get some professionals in to sort it out. It’s a bit much for one man, I’m afraid.’ He sighed. ‘Look, I’m sorry I snapped at you last night. I wasn’t in the best frame of mind and you happened to step into the firing line. And I’m sorry for stringing you along with the whole Italian thing. I honestly thought you were kidding around at first but then… Anyway, I’m sorry. I’m Mitch by the way.’ He held out his hand and she shook it.
‘I know that now. Although I don’t think that’s what Jacopo called you.’
He nodded. ‘Ah no, Jaco calls me by my given name, Miceli. It’s Sicilian for Michael. He started off calling me Signor Adair, but that made me feel ancient. He wouldn’t call me Mitch though. I think it’s a respect thing.’ He shrugged.
‘Right. Well, I’m Ruby… it’s English for Ruby,’ she stated simply with a wry smile as she sipped on her water. ‘And you should be sorry. It was totally uncalled for and a bit mean.’
He smirked again. ‘Aye, I know. Well, I’ve apologised now, eh?’ His stubble was thicker, and his hair was messy and stuck out at all angles. Annoyingly, he still looked like something off a magazine cover.
