Free Romance Reads

The large brass buzzer on the side of the door shone in the harsh midday sun, taunting her. Her heart hammered in her chest and she was seized by a moment of doubt.

Could she go through with this?

She was about to meet her father. A man who didn’t even know she was alive. How would he react?  Would he welcome her or spurn her? It was possible that he wouldn’t believe her at all. What then? 

Get a grip Ana, she told herself firmly as she took some slow, deep breaths. She hadn’t travelled all the way from London to the Italian island of Capri to turn back now. In her handbag was the letter her mother had written five long years ago. The last desperate attempt to contact her father, the only man her mother had ever truly loved. Tragically, the letter had never been sent. Oh well, better late than never, Ana thought nervously. 

The villa was surrounded by a high white-washed wall which prevented anyone from seeing into the gardens. It seemed to stretch forever in both directions and Ana realised that the property itself was probably much larger than it looked from the outside. Vibrant bougainvillea in every shade of pink swept over the wall and mingled with the wild roses protruding from terracotta urns on either side of the gate. Engraved on the gate, in rusty gold lettering was ‘Villa San Rosanna’. Even the name had an exotic sound to it. 

So far Ana loved everything about Capri. The smells were sweet and pungent, the heat balmy and all-encompassing. She’d never seen sky so blue and peering into the azure depths of the Mediterranean as the ferry docked, Ana was overwhelmed by the shimmering clarity. She could even make out the sandy bottom, which had her fighting the urge to throw her hot, sweaty self overboard and into the inviting depths. Capri was a far cry from the austere, greyness of Paddington Hospital and Ana felt like she’d landed on another planet, a colourful, sensual world where people knew the meaning of natural beauty and took the time to appreciate it. 

No wonder her mum had loved this place. In fact, could this be the very house where her mother had worked as an au pair so many years ago? Was it here that the mysterious Giovanni had swept her mother off her feet? She wished she had more answers, but all she had were hollow questions swirling around in her mind.  

It was now or never. This is what she’d come for and she couldn’t back down now. She took a deep breath and with a shaking hand, pressed the buzzer.

Nothing.

She waited a minute and was about to press it a second time when a male voice burst over the intercom.

“Si?”

Ana was so shocked to get a reply that she forgot what she had been about to say.

“Hello?” The voice again, more impatient this time.

Ana cleared her throat. “Is this the residence of Giovanni Albertosi?”

A pause. Then, “Who wants to know?”

Ana didn’t really want to give her name to a stranger, but then she remembered her father would have no idea who she was anyway.

“Ana Crawford,” she replied, offering no further explanation.

Another pause.

“One moment please,” and there was an audible click as the intercom went off. 

How Ana got through the next few minutes she had no idea. When that door opened, she could be facing her father. Should she rush forward and hug him, or should she appear cool and introduce herself properly? She didn’t have time to decide for she heard heavy footsteps coming down the garden path. It was all she could do to hold her ground when every fibre in her body wanted to turn around and run for cover.

The door creaked open and Ana gasped for the man standing there was a good 30 years younger than the man she had expected to see.

“Can I help you?” the man said cordially, but with an edge to his voice.

Ana tried desperately to compose herself. No, this man definitely wasn’t her father. 

The first thing that struck her was how tall he was – her eyes were level with his chest. A light casual shirt emphasized a strong build with wide shoulders. Stylish Italian trousers did little to hide his lean thighs and long legs. His stance was fairly rigid, not relaxed, as if he were on the alert. His hair was damp as if he’d just got out of the shower, and she thought she could detect the spicy aroma of men’s aftershave. 

Glancing up at his face she noted dark stubble on a strong jaw. He had a sensuous lower lip, predatory Roman features and a smooth Mediterranean complexion. Long dark lashes framed intense yellow eyes which were regarding her questioningly. It was only after a few moments that she noticed the faint, jagged scar running from his cheek bone across his left temple and disappearing into his hairline. It made him appear rugged and more than a bit dangerous. If it weren’t for the scar his features would have been too perfect, she thought to herself. 

He saw her eyes follow the line of his scar and his own narrowed menacingly. She wondered vaguely how he’d got it. He didn’t look like a fighter, although there was something about him that was rather ominous. He reminded her of a tiger, superbly toned, aggressive and ready to pounce. Not the warmest welcome in the world, she thought slightly bemused. 

The man cleared his throat and Ana dragged herself back to earth.

“Is this the residence of Giovanni Albertosi?” she asked, her heart hammering in her chest. Really the man was just too good looking. A thought struck her. Could this be her brother she was talking to?

She was suddenly overcome with emotion and it took a while to sink in when the man in front of her said rather coldly, “No, I’m afraid it’s not. You must have made a mistake.”

“Are you sure?” Ana stammered. She reached into her bag for the piece of paper and showed it to the man who was still regarding her warily. He glanced briefly at the paper before saying firmly, “This is the address but there is no one here by that name.”

Ana paled visibly, wracked with disappointment.

“Who gave you this address?” the man asked suddenly. Ana was startled by his harsh tone.

“The lady at the guesthouse – when I asked she said this was the Albertosi residence.”

The man was shaking his head although his golden eyes didn’t leave her face.

“She was mistaken.”

There was a note of finality in his voice.

Ana should have known it was too good to be true.

The man in front of her shifted his weight to the other foot. He was getting impatient. Unwilling to give up just yet, Ana tried another angle.

“Do you know by any chance if the previous owner was a Giovanni Albertosi?”

The man paused for a second, studying her. Ana met his gaze, her own clear blue eyes steady, registering none of her inner turmoil. Only her face, as pale as the wall surrounding the house, gave any indication of the sheer desperation that she felt.

“This house has been in my family for generations,” the man said firmly, his hand still poised on the rim of the door ready to close it at a moments notice. He had positioned his body so that it was impossible for her to see behind him into the villa.

“I’m sorry I can’t be of more help.” His tone was curt, implying that the conversation was over.

“Thank you,” Ana muttered bleakly thinking that he didn’t look very sorry at all. 

Ana resolved that she would visit the lawyer’s office tomorrow morning, as planned. It was the office to which the letter had originally been addressed. Maybe they would be able to shed more light on her father’s whereabouts.  

As the nervous tension that had been building up all through the morning dissipated, Ana felt like collapsing. Instead she smiled bravely, gave a little nod and put on her dark glasses, grateful that she’d remembered to bring them. With her head held high she walked back down the narrow little path to the main road, the teasing scent of bougainvillea wafting after her.