Her Italian Soldier

Over the years he’d enjoyed his share of women and knew the difference. But something else was motivating her.

There were many parts to Signorina Marsh still hidden. Secrets. While he lay there drifting in and out of sleep, he found himself wanting to expose them. His thoughts wandered all over the place until morning, when once again sunlight streamed through the window. The angle told him it was probably eight-thirty, nine o’clock.

He blinked. During the night he’d turned on his other side. Though his covers lay at the bottom of the bed and one pillow had fallen to the floor, the other one was still in place between his thighs.

Two things surprised him. His first instinct hadn’t been to reach for his pills. The pillow trick must have worked because he hadn’t awakened in pain. In fact it had subsided enough to give him a good night’s sleep. The pills he’d taken last night were still working. He got to his feet actually feeling rested for a change. This morning he would make café au lait with sugar, the second best thing to cappuccino.

After freshening up in the bathroom, he wandered into the kitchen. Not until he reached it did he realize he hadn’t grabbed for the cane lying on the bedside table.

His gaze darted to the terrace. Signorina Marsh, still in her robe, had placed one of the patio chairs near the railing. She sat there gazing over the view deep in thought while she sipped her coffee. He quickly heated up milk and fixed his own concoction before walking out to stand next to her.

She must have felt his presence and lifted her eyes. They were more blue than violet this morning. What woman could look so good without makeup? Her hair, caught loosely at the back of her head, hadn’t been touched since last night. She was in bare feet.

“I don’t need to ask how you slept,” she murmured. “It’s there on your face. I’m glad.”

“Thanks to your expertise.” He took a long swallow of his hot drink.

“It’s good to see you feeling better, signore.”

/> “You called me Lucca when you woke me out of my nightmare last evening. Since we’ve already slept together, let’s drop the formality, shall we?” He watched heat spiral into her cheeks as he’d intended.

Their first night together had been an interesting one since he’d fallen asleep almost immediately. Looking at her right now, he found that incredible. What in the hell had been wrong with her husband?

She nodded. “I’ve been hoping you’d say that. Why don’t you pull up the other chair and tell me what else is going on inside you.”

In an instant his good mood vanished. “What are you? A psychiatrist now?”

“Maybe you need one.”

“The hell I do—” Her mild-toned comment had pressed his hot button.

She didn’t flinch. “During your nightmare you were in combat mode and called out a name in agony. Last night you opened up to me, but you’ve only scratched the surface. Now that you’re awake, you need to keep on talking.”

“No thanks.”

In an unexpected move, she got to her feet. “One of the doctors I trained under at the vet hospital explained that a man who has seen combat needs to validate his existence to another warm body. It’s vital that what he did in the war did matter to at least one other human being besides himself.

“If you don’t choose to use me for a sounding board, don’t wait too long to find someone, Lucca. For your sake it’s vital you pick out a person who wants to listen, and do it soon, even if it’s a therapist. Is it that impossible to consider talking to your father?”

He darted her a piercing gaze. “You really do go where angels fear to tread.”

“If our positions were reversed, wouldn’t you want to help me?”

She had him there. During his time in the hospital, part of his therapy had been with a psychiatrist who’d told him everyone’s war experience was a singular one. Those in combat lived, died or survived, yet humanity was scarcely aware of it. The worst thing he could do was remain mute.

Lucca closed his eyes and threw his head back. “How’s this for starters? My father forbade me to go to the military academy in Bari. I went anyway against his wishes because I wanted to be like my grandfather, who’d fought in the previous war.”

A stillness came over her. “I had no idea. Guilio never told me.”

“No. He wouldn’t. That’s because his father-in-law came home minus his lower leg. It’s not something my father likes to think about.”

“The cane …” she cried softly “Was it his?”

“Yes. If you think my father wants to hear about my injury and relive that horror, then you’re very much mistaken. But I realize he has to be told. Despite what I’ve been through and am still going through, you’re not a man and don’t understand how much I want to look substantial to him when he first sees me. Is that honest enough for you?”

Her eyes glazed over as she nodded. “I’m so sorry, Lucca,” she whispered.

It had been a long time since anyone had responded that way out of concern for him. It’s been too long since you allowed anyone to see into that part of your soul, Cavezzali. Her reaction surprised and touched him, stirring feelings inside him he hadn’t had any idea were there.