One-Night Fling in Positano
Yazar
Ann McIntosh
Okur
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Bölüm
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Walk underneath the Mediterranean moonlight as you fall in love with Ann McIntosh's latest Harlequin Medical Romance! Can one night of passion… …change her whole life? Nurse Kendra lives a jet-set life. Who needs a home and family when they only let you down? So when meeting gorgeous Massimo in Positano results in one unforgettable night, Kendra has no regrets — until he turns out to be her new boss! Continuing their fling is risky, but also irresistible… Under the red-hot Mediterranean sun, will Kendra realize it's not her fling that's at risk but her no-strings-attached relationship rule?
CHAPTER ONE
THE PATH TO Spiaggia Tordigliano wasn’t easy to find, but luckily Kendra Johnson had help in the form of Lejla and Ahmed Graovac, who knew the beach well.
“The top of the trail isn’t on most maps,” Ahmed explained, as they made their way down the narrow, stony path. “It’s more of a local beach, popular especially with boaters, and not that many tourists come here, even in the high season.”
That was exactly the type of place Kendra had asked the Graovac siblings to tell her about after meeting them in Naples and striking up conversation. In her experience, it was far better to go to the places the locals did. That was when you got the real flavor of an area or country.
What she hadn’t expected was that the siblings would take the day off in the middle of the week to take her sightseeing.
“There isn’t much to do right now,” Lejla explained, when Kendra asked if she didn’t have to be at work. “The owner of the café where I waitress will probably be happy not to have to pay me. Once the tourists start coming, though, I’ll be working nonstop.”
“And I want to practice my English,” Ahmed interjected, sending Kendra a brilliant smile. “If I make it better, it will be easier to find work.”
“How about you speak English, and I’ll answer in Italian,” she suggested, grinning back. “I need to practice for my upcoming job.”
Which was how she ended up on the small path winding down from the main road toward the sea, tall grasses on either side brushing her legs and a fresh spring breeze blowing up from below.
“Tell me about Canada,” Ahmed said, slowing down so that Kendra caught up to him.
“Don’t mind him,” Lejla interjected. “He’s obsessed with North America. Keeps talking about going there to live.”
“Not North America. Canada,” her brother replied, sending her a scowl. “I heard that Canada is a polite, beautiful place, and one day I want to see it for myself. All of it. Polar bears. Everything.”
Kendra chuckled. “That would take you a very long time. Canada is a huge country.”
“Maybe so. But I hear from my friend’s cousin who lives there that it is wonderful. Full of opportunity.”
Not wanting to burst his bubble but trying to be honest, Kendra replied, “It’s not that different from other places I’ve been. There are all kinds of people everywhere, and opportunities for some, but not always for others.”
In a way, she could understand Ahmed’s enthusiasm for somewhere he’d never seen. Wasn’t that the same impulse that kept her traveling from place to place, and made her a bit indifferent to her homeland?
Much of the last six years had been spent traveling to different countries, working a few months here, a few there, immersing herself in the various cultures. The worldwide pandemic had put her plan of working her way around as much of the world as possible on pause.
She’d been in Dubai when the worst of the virus hit, and luckily enough her contract teaching English had been extended, becoming a remote job. However, even with her students to talk to during the week, weathering the isolation had been difficult. Oh, she liked her alone time as much as the next person—probably more—but it had been the one time she’d wished she’d been back in Toronto. There, at least, she could possibly have formed a bubble with her aunt and cousins, or gone back to hospital work, doing her part to fight the virus.
Dubai was supposed to be just a short stop in a place she’d heard so much about but never visited. Planning to stay only a month or so, she hadn’t applied for a work visa, or for a nursing job. Being offered the teaching position had been happenstance but she’d seen the four-month stint as a way to save up a bit more cash, and taken it. Instead, it had turned into almost total solitary confinement, lasting more than eighteen months.
How glad she was to be on the move again!
The job in the village of Minori, on the Italian Amalfi Coast, had come through at just the right moment. She’d gotten to Italy at the beginning of May, and her stint at the clinic was scheduled from the beginning of June to the end of October. Spending six months exploring this lovely country felt like heaven, and looking around at the bright springtime sky, Kendra couldn’t help grinning.
Maybe it was the enforced confinement she’d just escaped that made her think it was the most beautiful day she’d ever seen.
“Italy isn’t to my liking,” Ahmed said, his nose wrinkling slightly. “Our parents should have tried to get to Canada when they fled Bosnia.”
“They didn’t have that option, Ahmed.” If Lejla’s tone was any indication, this wasn’t the first time she’d heard her younger brother say so. “Don’t be a brat.”
Ahmed huffed, and sent his sister a glare. “We’d be better off if they had. And if I lived in Canada I would never want to leave, the way I want to escape Italy.”
Just then they turned a corner in the path and the vista below opened up.
Kendra stopped, her breath catching in her throat for a moment as a wave of emotion overtook her, causing the sound of the argument going on behind her to fade into insignificance.
The land and seascapes were a study in greens, grays and blues, bordered by the darkness of the rocks and sand, elevated to almost mythical splendor by the glint of sun on the water. Outside of the cove, on the open water, a fishing boat went by at what seemed a leisurely pace, the bright red of her hull adding the perfect splash of contrasting color. A little closer to shore a small sailboat tacked, the white of its sail like a friendly flag, waving.
There was no real comparison between the scene below and the coast of Nova Scotia, where she’d lived until she was ten, but a wash of longing made her eyes prickle anyway.
Open water, especially the sea, always spoke to her, no matter where she was. It was the voice of her childhood. Whatever mood it was in, whether murmuring, splashing or roaring, it took her back to a time of peace, contentment and joy. More than anything else, it made her think of Dad. Of his laughter, booming voice and sudden rages that never scared her because they were so transient—gone in a blink—with the laughter coming back right on their heels.
She’d gotten that from him. Both the temper and the tendency to laugh often, and she was glad of it. He’d been wonderful, and she missed him every day.
Losing him so young, she knew her memories were probably skewed, but no less precious for that fact. And the sea was equally precious, since it invariably brought those reminiscences back.
“And if I lived here,” she whispered to herself, thinking about what Ahmed had said moments before, “I might never want to leave.”
Still arguing in what she assumed was their native language, the Graovacs passed her and went down the path toward the beach, but Kendra wasn’t ready to follow yet. Held in place by the stark, almost harsh beauty spread out before her, she took a deep breath of salty air and simply allowed herself to feel.
The cool, briny breeze against her face, overlaying the warmth of the sun.
An almost spiritual call of rocks that looked as though carved with a serrated blade, set against the dazzling blues of the water and sky.
With the stony grays and black sand, it should have been a dour scene, but it wasn’t. Instead, for Kendra, it evoked a strange, joyous recognition, although she’d never been here before.
The slap of the waves breaking, the rustle of the wind through the grass and the trill of a bird were the only sounds, now that her companions had moved out of earshot. A complete contrast to the fervent rush and noise of Naples, with its constant motion and chatter. While the city had provided all the friendly faces and excitement she’d been missing, the peace and tranquility here spoke directly to her soul.
“Mi scusi.”
The deep voice, coming from directly behind her, startled Kendra out of her trance.
“Oh,” she said, turning. But the apology she planned to proffer died on her tongue, as she looked up into a pair of midnight-dark eyes, and was once more washed with a nameless, unrecognizable emotion.
He wasn’t really handsome. His face was too broad, his nose too beaky and his lips a tad too thin for him to be considered classically good-looking. His hair was as dark as his eyes, curling wildly in the ocean breeze, giving him a tousled, just-out-of-bed look. He was also tall and broad—barrel-chested and thick of trunk—but not, she thought, fat. Just a large, solid type of man, his shape very different from the body types worshipped in the fashion magazines or on the silver screen. The kind of man who would make even a woman as big-boned and hefty as herself feel feminine and, if not tiny, then perhaps dainty.
Effortlessly elegant, even in casual clothes, just one glance at him set Kendra’s heart racing in the silliest way, and left her completely, utterly tongue-tied.
So, instead of trying to say another word, she stepped aside to let him pass.
With a murmured “Grazie,” he strode off down the path without a backward glance, while she stood there watching him until he disappeared.
Wondering when, if ever, her heart would return to a normal pace, and this sensation of light-headedness would go away.
“Kendra. Aren’t you coming? We still need to get over to the other side where the beach is nicer.”
“I’m coming,” she called back to Ahmed, forcing her legs to move, when they really didn’t feel strong enough to hold her up.
It was just the surprise of having that huge man sneak up on her, she told herself, as she followed her friend toward the rocks on the right-hand side of the beach.
Nothing more.
Although, she had to admit she’d been drawn to him in the weirdest way. That in itself was amusing, since on the whole the Italian men she’d met so far really hadn’t piqued her interest. Not that there weren’t some who were attractive. Even some whom she could honestly say were almost stunningly handsome. Yet, although she’d so far enjoyed the man-watching, not one pair of slumberous eyes or a wide, bright smile had given her pause.
Until now.
Mind you, with the way she was feeling, she wouldn’t mind indulging herself with a night or two of passion. The last time she’d had sex...
She actually had to stop and think about it, to figure out how long it had actually been.
Maybe Mick, in Hong Kong?
He’d been a good, if uninspired, lover, who’d wanted her to stay there even though she’d been up-front with him about her plans to move on. It had certainly soured her last couple of weeks in the special administrative region of China, and she and Mick had parted on rather frosty terms.
At least on his side.
She didn’t have the time or the energy to get upset with people, especially since she knew she wouldn’t be around long enough for it to make a big difference in her life. However, she also wasn’t in the habit of jollying people out of their snits.
That was all on them, and above her pay grade.
Climbing a ladder, and then scrambling over the rocks, revealed the other side of Spiaggia Tordigliano. And there, already about halfway down the beach, was the man from the path, sitting on the sand, an open book on his lap.
Maybe if she wasn’t with Ahmed and Lejla she’d have been tempted to mosey on down that way and interrupt his reading. Just the thought made her smile to herself. Daydreams and lust from a distance were all well and good, but she was wise enough, and careful enough, not to give in to that kind of impulse.
After all, he could be a wandering serial killer, for all she knew!
“What are you smiling about?” Ahmed sent her a curious look, as he held out a hand to help her down from the last rocky ledge.
Ignoring his silent offer of help, Kendra hopped down on her own, grinning back at him.
“Nothing really. It’s just so beautiful here, I can’t help smiling.”
He cast his gaze around, and then shrugged slightly.
“It’s okay, and I like that it’s rarely full of people, but I’m sure you’ve seen more beautiful places.”
Lejla had brought a blanket for them to sit on, and they spread it on the sand. Kendra kicked off her shoes and sat, then lay back, reclining up on her elbows so she could take in the ocean view and watch the sea ebb and flow onto the shore.
Three small motorboats were anchored in the bay, and the music and laughter of their inhabitants carried across the water. Ahmed was once more asking about Canada, and Kendra answered his questions while watching the waves. The sailboat she’d noticed earlier came back into view, closer to shore now, and she could see what looked like a man and a child in the vessel. Farther out at sea, a large luxury yacht was just disappearing around the headland.
The sailboat tacked again and then, as Kendra watched, the child moved from the bow and scrambled to where the man sat in the stern, and they began to switch places.
Probably a sailing lesson, she thought, smiling as she remembered going out with her own father for just the same purpose, and performing the same maneuver.
The child was in position, the man just turning to sit in the bow, when the boat rocked violently and the boom swung. Instinctively, she shouted a warning, watching in horror as the man was struck on the side of the head, and went over into the water.
Kendra was already on her feet, dark glasses tossed aside as she pulled her shirt off over her head.
“Kendra, what...?”
“Try to get someone to help the child in the boat,” she said, making it an order, rather than a request. Lejla jumped to her feet and gave a strangled cry, obviously realizing what was happening, and pointed to where the sailboat headed out to sea, the child in it screaming for his or her father.
Kendra had her shorts off already and ran for the water, adrenaline pumping so her heart hammered and her focus narrowed to the last point where she’d seen the man.
The frigid water hardly registered as she ran in and then did a shallow dive. Her strong arms and legs, along with her training in water rescue, served her well in getting her out to where she thought she needed to be, but there was no sign of the boater.
Taking a deep breath, she dived, searching beneath the waves, turning in a circle, aware of the current wanting to pull her farther down, and away.
Nothing.
Stroking strongly to the surface, she took another breath, and dived again, now letting the current guide her, hoping it would drag her in the right direction.
There.
A shadow, sinking, floating away.
No time for another breath.
Swimming down, down, grabbing hold of an arm, then making for the sunlight that suddenly looked to be miles away.
When she finally broke the surface again, Kendra gasped in needed air, even while tugging the man’s head above water, and arranging him in a rescue hold.
Then she was flutter-kicking, as hard as she could, back toward the shore, ignoring the almost sickening pounding of her heart, the ache in her lungs, her full concentration on keeping the man’s face above water and getting him to dry land.
Something brushed against her arm, but before she could even think to be scared, a dark head hove into her line of sight. Surprised, Kendra’s gaze collided with a pair of black, fathomless eyes set in a strong, square, instantly recognizable face.
There was no time to register much more than that, before that deep voice said, “Let me take him.”
It took her a moment to interpret his words. Her Italian was passable, but she’d never considered having to use it under quite these circumstances, with her nerves jangling and her heart pounding so she could barely hear him.
“No.”
She made her voice firm, adding a quick shake of her head for emphasis, and was pleased when he took her at her word. Rather than insist, he simply kept pace with her until she got to the shallows. Only then did he move to assist her to carry the man up onto the shore and place him on the ground, out of the way of the surf. Now Kendra could see the bruise to the boater’s temple, and registered the fact that he didn’t seem to be breathing.
She reached for the unconscious man’s neck to feel for a pulse, but the man who’d swum out to assist her got to it first. Their hands brushed, and Kendra drew hers back quickly.
“I’m a doctor,” the man said brusquely, not looking up from where he was focused, his long, thick fingers pressed against the other man’s carotid. Bending, he put his ear close to the boater’s face for a long moment.
“The ambulance is on the way,” Lejla said, from behind Kendra’s shoulder, her voice choked and scared. “And one of the motorboats is helping the child in the sailboat.”
The doctor didn’t answer, but positioned himself to begin chest compressions.
“I know CPR,” Kendra said, realizing he had the situation well in hand, so there was really no need to tell him her own credentials as an RN. “I can help.”
His gaze flashed up to her for an instant, and Kendra shivered.
“Grazie.”
But there was little to do but watch as he set to work, performing the chest compressions with calm competence, counting as he did. Periodically he paused, and once more put his ear to the other man’s face. Then he was back to it.
Kendra could hear the wail of sirens in the distance, just as the patient began to cough violently, and his child ran across the sand, shrieking, “Papa! Papa!”
It was a relief to be able to take hold of the little girl—as it turned out to be—and tell her, “Your papa is going to be all right. What is your name?”
“Isabella,” she gasped out through her sobs.
It took a while for the ambulance attendants to get to the beach, but sooner than she’d expected, considering the route they had to take, they were running across the sand toward them.
The doctor looked up at Kendra to say, “I will accompany him in the ambulance.” Turning his attention to Isabella, he said, “You will come with us too. We will take your papa to the hospital, and make him all better.”
The gentleness of his tone when speaking to the child made a shiver run along Kendra’s spine. Getting up to make way for the ambulance attendants, still holding Isabella close to her side, Kendra watched as the doctor also rose. He was giving the attendants their patient’s information, but Kendra didn’t hear any of it.
All she could do was stare at him, and the pounding of her heart now had nothing to do with her prior exertions.
He was a magnificent sight, his heavily muscled body moving with surprising fluidity as he jogged over to a pile of clothing dropped haphazardly on the sand. All he was wearing was a pair of boxer briefs, which, being wet, were molded to every plane and bulge of his lower torso and upper thighs.
Every.
Single.
Bulge.
All of which were impressive.
When he started shrugging into the blue, long-sleeved shirt, Kendra shivered again.
Why didn’t I go and speak to him when I had the chance?
But having the crying little girl clinging to her side made most of the regret fade away. If she’d been concentrating on flirting, she probably wouldn’t have seen the accident occur, and maybe the man now on the stretcher wouldn’t have been saved.
Tearing her gaze away from where the doctor was struggling to put his pants on over his wet skin, she gave Isabella a tighter squeeze. Running her hand over the little girl’s head, she made soothing noises, not trusting her befuddled brain to find the right words in Italian. Her insides were quaking like jelly, the combination of coming down from the adrenaline and her strange, visceral reaction to the man now striding toward her across the sand.
Their gazes met again, and those seemingly bottomless eyes made the vibrations in her belly intensify, until she knew if she didn’t look away once more, her legs might just give out.
Taking a shaky breath, she turned to watch as the paramedics began to carry the stretcher over the sand.
“Come, little one.” The deep rumble of his voice shot through Kendra’s veins, disturbing her equilibrium even more. When he held out his hand to the little girl, Kendra clenched the fingers of her free hand, so as not to reach for it herself. “As for you,” he said to Kendra, with not a hint of the tenderness he’d had for Isabella. “You need to get dry. You’re shivering, and we already have one patient. We don’t need another.”
Kendra nodded, not willing to trust her voice, lest she tell him that just looking at him made her hot all over, and she didn’t need a towel.
Then, at a shout from the ambulance attendants, now almost to the rocks, the connection between them was shattered, and Kendra took in a deep breath. The doctor picked up Isabella, and with one last nod started at a trot across the sand after them, and in moments was gone from sight.
But the memory of him lingered long after, leaving Kendra with a strange sense of life having changed, and a host of questions that started with, What if...?
