Her Spanish Doll

By Joanne Fisher

Fiore is a young Italian woman engaged to be married but her plans are interrupted by a charismatic Sebastián, a handsome middle aged Spanish businessman. Her beauty strikes him like a thunderbolt sent by the goddess Venus herself. When she is given an peculiar gift: a Spanish doll, she is thrown into a whirlwind of entangled passion, mon

• Language: English
• Publisher: Joanne's Books
• Release date: May 15, 2018
• ISBN: 9781732311022

Joanne Fisher

Joanne Fisher is a Canadian-Italian-American author of her first seasoned romance titled “With All of Me” and her second romantic erotica titled “Her Spanish Doll”. Both books have exceptional reviews on Amazon and Goodreads. Her short story titled “The Christmas Concert” is featured in the Space Coast Writers Guild’s anthology titled “Holidays” and her second short story titled “Victoria’s Doll” is featured in another Space Coast Writers Guild’s anthology titled “Florida”. She is married to the love of her life, Dan and she presently lives in central Florida with her husband and her two dachshunds, Wally and Ozzie.

Book preview

Her

Spanish

Doll

By

Joanne Fisher

This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, locales or actual events is purely coincidental.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

© Joanne Fisher – 2018 All rights reserved

Cover Illustration Copyright © 2018

ISBN: 978-1-7323110-2-2

Cover design by Macred-Designs: https://www.robin-mcdonald.com/

Book production by Ingram Spark

Editing by Daniel B. Fisher

Author photograph by Daniel B. Fisher

This book is printed in the United States of America in 2018

Dedicated to all women who are breadwinners. May you always work hard and be prosperous.

Chapter 1

He was parched. Just ahead, he noticed a bar with some tables set along the sidewalk. He sat down at one of those tables and looked for a waiter. He sat back and enjoyed the scenery. It was a quaint little town in northern Italy right by the Lake. Garda Lake, to be exact, and the quaint little town was Desenzano del Garda. He wasn’t there as a tourist, although the setting was perfect. The sun shone on the lake like a diamond gleaming under the jeweler’s light. Tourists walked up and down the street, chatting and taking photos. He was in town for business. He was between meetings and decided to do a bit of sightseeing. But he also needed to get away from those boring business meetings. He didn’t like the fact that he had to put on a game face every time he pitched to a new client. But that was his job and he was damn good at it. He was thinking of his next meeting and was immersed in his thoughts when he heard a voice.

May I help you sir?

It was like he fell out of space and crashed headlong into reality. He turned his head to look toward the voice and he saw the most captivating brown eyes he had ever seen. He blinked a couple of times and shook his head slightly to ensure he was, indeed, awake.

Sir? May I help you? She repeated impatiently. She had other customers and she didn’t have time to deal with daydreamers. She thought to herself, Come on, wake up, already!

Yes. He finally managed to say. He was mesmerized by this creature. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. She was like the scenery he was enjoying; refreshing and classic. He couldn’t help himself. He just stared at her, trying to find a flaw, but she had none. Her enchanting brown eyes, her luscious lips, her round face, those alluring curls slipping out of her bandana. She had no makeup on, but she looked like she had spent hours in front of a mirror. She was perfect. Perfection in its most subliminal form. This perfection caught him off guard and did not allow him to speak. His mouth was open, yes, but he was not able to enunciate. He wanted to tell her what he was thinking but he couldn’t. He was a stranger to her.

Would you like a menu, sir? She finally asked. She didn’t know what to make of this man. He acted as though he was staring at a ghost. Maybe not a ghost, but he was speechless. She wondered what he was thinking. Maybe she looked like someone he knew. They say that we all have seven look-alikes in the world; who knows maybe she was a look-alike of someone of his past. But she was growing impatient because she had other customers she had to attend to, and he was wasting her time. As she turned to fetch him a menu, he grabbed her wrist. She stopped. A shiver ran down her spine. She turned and gave him a very nasty look as if to say: What do you think you’re doing? He got the message. Loud and clear.

I’m sorry. He said as he released her wrist. He didn’t know why, but he felt as if he was letting his life go in that very moment. Yes, please bring me a menu.

Very well. She said as she disappeared inside the shop. He did not take his eyes off her and when he could no longer see her, he frowned. Then, what seemed an eternity later, she re-appeared with the menu. She was smiling with perhaps the most beautiful smile he’d ever seen. She seemed happy-go-lucky.

Here you are, sir. She handed him the menu. He touched her hand as he took the menu, and again, she felt something. Why am I feeling this way? What’s wrong with me? I’ll be back shortly, She said as she switched her attention to another table. But now, she was having a hard time concentrating on her other customers. What was going on? She turned and looked at him. He’s very handsome, she thought to herself. Then she scolded herself. Come on Fiore, you’re getting married in a couple of months! You can’t act like this! Get ahold of yourself! But no matter what she told herself, she couldn’t take her eyes off him. He was not much taller than she, but boy, oh boy, was he handsome! She knew that he had to be at least forty and she also noticed the ring on his finger. But again, he was handsome. She thought he looked very much like Omar Sharif. Her mother adored him, but Fiore had never thought much of it until today. This fascinating man looked a lot like him. Okay! That’s enough! She thought. That’s enough! She continued serving her other customers, taking orders and waiting on them. However, her eyes always managed to look in his direction. He was elegantly dressed, with a light gray linen suit and a white linen shirt. No necktie was in sight, but his shirt was unbuttoned just enough to show his hairy, virile chest. Again, she tried to look busy, but all she could see was him. Eventually, she became a bit snippy with her customers. She was agitated, and she couldn’t understand why. Her boss, Luigi, also noticed her mood.

Fiore! What’s going on? Are you all right?

Yes, Luigi, yes. I’m just a bit flustered. I’ll be all right. Then she changed the subject. Is Table Five’s order ready yet?

Yes, yes, coming, coming, Luigi said, annoyed.

Ah so now who’s flustered, eh? she teased him. She loved Luigi. He was like a second father to her. He had given her a chance where many wouldn’t. She was grateful to him for that. She was making good money, and Luigi even said she could work the next season as well, if her husband allowed. She frowned at that thought. Aldo didn’t want her to work. He wanted her to mind the house while he farmed his father’s land. Thankfully, his father was dead, and his mother had Alzheimer’s, so she had no clue of what was going on.

The only reason Aldo wanted to get married was because he needed a wife—and, of course, sex. Sure, he loved Fiore, very much. She was a lovely girl, a bit heavy for his taste, but she had a positive attitude and that’s what he needed in his life. Some positivity. Unlike her father, she was a hard worker. Aldo saw that when he visited her at the bar. He knew well that she was settling because he wasn’t very handsome. But, he also knew he was a good catch. He had land that he could farm, a house he was restoring, and some money in the bank—three things that her previous boyfriends didn’t have, and never would.

She was twenty-four years old, and that was old enough. Her grandmother had been hounding her to get married for years now. Her mother wasn’t as bad as her grandmother but she, too, jabbed at her. On top of that, her aunts were also taking potshots at her. She was getting old. She would have trouble conceiving children. She needed to get cracking if she wanted a family. Her brother, Daniele, already had two children and she needed to catch up, even though he was only a couple years older than she. She had made way too many mistakes to have a career, so when she met Aldo she decided he would be her husband. He needed a wife and she was available. She loved him, even though he was not the love of her life. She didn’t come from a rich family; far from it. Her father racked up debt left right and center, and her mother put up with him only because she had to. She had no choice, but Fiore did. At twenty-three years old, she had no education, no job, and no boyfriend. So, she rolled up her sleeves, lost some weight, and found a job. And when Aldo came along, she accepted the opportunity that God had put in her path. She was determined to make the best of her life going forward and it was going to start on her wedding day, September 22, 1984.

Are you ready to order now? Fiore asked her handsome customer.

Yes, I’ll have your ice cream with strawberries and whipped cream on top with an ice-cold glass of water—oh, and an espresso, please, he said, as he returned the menu to her.

Very well, Fiore answered. She wrote the order on her pad and headed toward Luigi. She tore the piece of paper and handed it to him. She felt as though her handsome customer was watching her every move.

She certainly is pretty, he thought to himself as he continued to watch her every move. He felt something—something he hadn’t felt in a long time. Was it this young girl? No, it couldn’t be.

A few minutes later, Fiore returned with his order. As she placed the ice cream, the water and the espresso on the table, he closed his eyes and enjoyed her perfume. It was a mix of some sweet women’s perfume, espresso, ice cream, and wine. He stopped her by grabbing her wrist.

Here you go, my dear, he said as he handed her a handsome tip.

Why, thank you, sir. She looked at the Lira. That was enough to fill her tank with gas. She really liked this customer. A lot.

No, please call me Sebastián. He said as he released her.

Oh, that’s a lovely name. My grandfather’s name was Sebastiano. I suppose it is the Spanish version of it. Fiore said with a twinkle in her eye.

Luigi was watching her from the bar. He didn’t like his customers schmoozing with his waitresses. Especially Fiore. She was incredibly special to him, like a daughter. What was this guy doing? He was way older than she, and he was probably married. Oh, he had to stop this—now!

Fiore! Come here, please! he shouted.

Yes, yes! I’m coming, Luigi! she shouted back. Then she turned to Sebastián and said: I am sorry, but I must get back to work. Thank you again for the tip. Have a good day!

Fiore, he thought. What a lovely name; it meant flower in Spanish and most probably in Italian, also. Sebastián didn’t want her to leave.

When is your shift over? He dared to ask.

Oh, around 11 or so. Why?

I’d like to see you again.

Fiore thought that this man was quite forward. But he was also fascinating, handsome and generous. Oh, why not, she thought. You only live once.

All right. I’ll see you later, then, she said as she walked away.

Oh, how wonderful! He thought. I will be seeing her again. He was overjoyed. He got up and headed back to the hotel for his next boring meeting. He thought of her the entire time. So much so that time seemed to be crawling. He kept looking at this Rolex, again and again. He was restless and couldn’t concentrate. He was aroused by the thought of her voice, her eyes, her perfume. He hadn’t felt this way in years. Even his colleagues and his business partners were noticing that something was up. But they didn’t think anything of it. Finally, the meeting ended, and they all headed for the hotel restaurant for dinner. The formalities of the meeting had now turned into relaxing chatter among friends. They talked about their wives, their children, and their hobbies. They talked about their next vacations in the most exotic places—but Sebastián wasn’t there.

Well, he was there in body, but not in spirit. He had Fiore on his mind. In reality, he had Fiore in his bedroom and he was making love to her. He was following her curves with his finger and very slowly moving up and down her back, her thighs, her shoulders, her breasts. He knew what she looked like, even though he hadn’t seen her naked. Yet. He circled her face and caressed her silky brown hair. She was a goddess in his eyes and she had already placed a spell on him. All