Free Laura's Locket by Tima Maria Lacoba Page B

and with his straight blonde hair flowing over his shoulders, he seemed to materialise from nowhere.
     
    The boys backed off. The one who kissed me, turned and ran. The others followed.
     
    ‘They won’t bother you, now,’ said the man. His deep blue eyes transfixed me—I couldn’t look away. He gazed at me, as if waiting for a response, but I was speechless. It’s not everyday a girl comes face to face with such a beautiful man.
     
    Angie nudged me with her elbow.
     
    ‘Ah, thank you,’ I finally managed.
     
    ‘My pleasure!’ He smiled and my insides turned to jelly. When he lifted my hand to his lips I resisted the urge to sigh. It was such an old-fashioned, yet romantic gesture.  No one had ever kissed my hand before. His gaze remained on my face, and even though people walked by, I barely noticed—there was only him.
     
    Beth coughed. ‘Okay, let’s get going. Time for dinner.’
     
    ‘I’d recommend that place over there.’ The man pointed to his left—La Dolce Vita . ‘I hear it’s good.’ His velvety voice had a slight accent, not Italian. French perhaps? ‘By the way, my name’s Philippe.’
     
    He is French!
     
    ‘I’m Laura and this is Beth and Angie,’ I indicated my friends.
     
    ‘Charmed.’ He inclined his head.
     
    ‘Would you like to join us?’ Angie asked. She looked at him eagerly from beneath the brim of her hat, hazel eyes sparkling.
     
    Please say, yes!
     
    He seemed about to answer, when his gaze slanted past, to somewhere behind us, and his brow creased in a frown. He hesitated before saying, ‘Regrettably, no. I’m… expected elsewhere. Please excuse me.’ With a final glance at me, Philippe disappeared into the crowd.
     
    The three of us stared after him. Angie let out a sigh. ‘First day in Europe and we meet the hottest of hotties!’ She then turned to me and slapped my arm. Her hat had slipped further down and now sat just above her nose, which was pink from the cold. ‘Why didn’t you ask him to stay? It was obvious he liked you!’
     
    ‘He was just being polite, and besides, I didn’t know what to say!’
     
    ‘Being polite? I don’t think so!’ She grinned. ‘He couldn’t get his eyes off you, Laura.’
     
    She and Beth exchanged glances. ‘Ooooh!’ They sing-songed.
     
    I rolled my eyes and started to walk in the direction of the restaurant Philippe suggested. But secretly, I was thrilled and hoped we’d bump into one another before the girls and I left Sorrento. Beth and Angie caught up with me and linked their arms through mine.
     
    ‘You know, that was a bit weird,’ Beth stated.
     
    ‘What was?’ I asked.
     
    ‘The way he shows up like some kind of white knight, rescues you from a bunch of silly boys, stares at you like he wants to eat you, and then disappears.’
     
    I laughed. ‘Eat me?’
     
    ‘Yeah, like this!’ Angie leapt in front of me, pushed her hat back off her face and gave me the smouldering-eyes look. ‘I will eat you, my little chicken!’ she said in a mock French accent.
     
    Beth burst out laughing. ‘Classic!’
     
    I pulled Angie’s hat back down onto her nose and laughed, too.
     
    ‘Did you see those guys’ faces?’ Beth said. ‘The way they backed away from him.’ She was always the thinker. ‘What if he’s mafia or something?’
     
    I hadn’t thought of that. Beth could be right. He had the air of authority, and his cashmere coat was well-cut; definitely designer wear. But then, many Italians were well dressed.
     
    We stopped in front of the restaurant and looked through the windows. The place was full.
    ‘He doesn’t have to be M afia. What if he’s a cop?’ I suggested.
     
    Angie pushed open the glass doors. The delicious scent of garlic bread hit my nostrils and I forgot Philippe. This place was popular, and just as I thought we would have to go elsewhere, one table was vacated. We made a beeline for it. I chewed on a breadstick as we decided our order and absently