Page 18 of Under Her Skin
She felt the need to connect with someone from back home and so, as she walked to her new apartment, she called Imelda, getting only her voicemail. “Melly…I’m just touching base. Call me back. I need to hear your voice.” She gave a small chuckle as she ended the call. She’d never said that to her sister…ever.Funny how distance changed relationships. Hero stuck her phone back into her bag and carried on towards thePatrizzi.
Peter’s facewas blank with disappointment. “You don’t likeit.”
He and Arturo were at an old rundown hotel on the north shore of the lake. Peter had seen it last minute and had been sure Arturo would go for it. It had an old-world rustic charm as well as a fantastic terrace overlooking the lake. A stone pergola draped in the most glorious wisteria led to lush gardens of azalea, camellia, and jasmine conveying beautiful scent along the breeze. The hotel itself had been abandoned for so long that vines had snaked their way into the interior, giving the whole place a strange but organic post-apocalypticfeel.
Peter had fallen in love with it at first sight, but he could tell from Arturo’s expression that his friend felt differently. He sighed. “So,no?”
Arturo turned to him, and Peter felt a shock run through him. He’d been wrong…Arturo’s eyes were shining. “It’s incredible…but not for a hotel. God,Peter…”
Peter was confused. “So, let me get this right, you don’t want it for a hotel, but you loveit?”
“For a home, Pete. For a familyhome.”
“A family home?” Peter echoed in confusion. “Forwhom?”
Arturo laughed. “For me, of course. For the family I intend to have in the future.” He didn’t say with whom, but Peter knew this expression ofold.
“Turo…you’ve known her forless than a week.” Peter stared at his old friend in astonishment. Arturo was known for being impulsive when it came to absolutely everything except relationships. In that particular area, he could always be trusted to love ’em and leave ’em. “A week,” Peter repeated. “What makes her any different,Turo?”
Arturo shrugged. “You need to meet her, Peter, and then you’ll understand. She’s bright and funny and beautiful and I’m crazy abouther.”
“So crazy you’re imagining your future estate together already? This isn’t you,” Peter said, “you’re obviously having some sort of…God, I don’t know, but you need to slowdown.”
“You don’t believe in love at firstsight?”
Peter rolled his eyes. “No. I don’t.At all.Wanting to screw her isn’t the same as love, Arturo. I don’t need to tell youthat.”
“It’s not that. If it were that, I’d be over it already. But she’s…look, I’m going to call her and arrange for you two to meet. Then you’llsee.”
Peter was about to protest, but Arturo had already pulled out his phone. Peter watched the smile spread over Arturo’s face as the woman answered hiscall.
“Bueno giorno, bella.How are you? Good. Listen, are you free for a drink this afternoon? I’d love you to meet my best friend, Peter Armley. Yes? Great, see you soon,caramia.”
Arturo was—there really was no other word for it—glowingwhen he ended the call and smiled at Peter. “You’ll see, Pete. She’sperfect.”
Peter held his tongue. Sometimes it paid to pull your punches with Arturo until the right moment. He usually figured things out for himself first anyway. “And what about thisplace?”
“I want it, but for myself. Can you get itdone?”
Peter sighed, watching his hotel dreams vanish in a puff of Arturo’s fantasies. “Of course, but are you sure? There’s no rush with this; it’s been on the market for five years without a taker. Take some time. Think aboutit.”
Arturo shook his head. “I want it. Give the owner what he’s asking for and get the paperwork through as soon as possible. I want to bring Hero here and show her what I haveplanned.”
“Jesus,” Peter hissed under hisbreath.
It was only an hour later when they walked into a bar in Como and saw Hero Donati waiting for them that Peter understood. He took one look at the beautiful woman sitting elegantly, her long, dark hair pulled over her shoulder, her large brown eyes shining at them, and immediately saw the striking—no, not striking—the almostuncannyresemblance to Flavia, and he turned to Arturo, horror in hiseyes.
“Arturo,” he said, “what have youdone?”
Chapter Ten
Hero liked Peter Armley very much, but she was a little bemused by the way he kept staring at her as if he knew her from someplace. Arturo, if he noticed it, didn’t say anything, and all three of them chattedlightly.
Peter stayed until the early evening and then excused himself. “Dinner plans.” He kissed Hero’s cheek. “It’s wonderful to meet you, Hero. Welcome toComo.”
After he’d gone, she and Arturo lingered over a pre-dinner aperitif. Arturo stroked her face. “Are youhungry?”
She shook her head. To tell the truth, all Hero wanted was to be wrapped up in his arms, feeling safe and cared for. He pressed his lips to hers. “I have anidea.”
