‘Because you said you would like to visit the city.’ He could have made up an excuse, Dante mused. But what was the point? He had given up trying to rationalise why he enjoyed spending time with Rebekah—and not only in bed.
She had got under his skin. Sex with her was more fulfilling than with any of his previous mistresses, but he had also discovered that he liked talking to her and being in her company. She was interesting and her dry wit made him laugh. She also drove him mad at times because she could be sharp-tongued and prickly if she felt he was threatening her independence. Only yesterday, when they had driven into Montalcino, they’d had a fight over her refusal to allow him to pay for the traditional Tuscan clay cooking pots she’d picked up in the market.
She was a refreshing change from the usual women he dated who treated his wallet as their own personal bank, he mused. He was starting to wonder when his interest in her would fade. When they had arrived in Tuscany he had confidently expected that he would have got over his fascination with her by now. But instead he was contemplating asking her to come back to London with him at the end of the month, not to work as his chef, nor to be his mistress. If he was going to stand any chance of persuading her to give up the opportunity of working for Gaspard Clavier in St Lucia he realised he would have to offer her something more than a brief affair. The trouble was, he did not know what he wanted, and that unsettled him more than he cared to admit.
CHAPTER NINE
FLORENCE lived up to its reputation as the most beautiful city in Italy. After three days of sightseeing, Rebekah was blown away by the exquisite architecture of many of the buildings and fascinated by the city’s rich history, particularly that of the powerful Medici family, whose influence had contributed to making Florence the jewel of the Renaissance.
On their last evening Dante took her to dinner at an exclusive restaurant close to the famous bridge, the Ponte Vecchio, and they sat at a table overlooking the River Arno. The fading sun set the sky ablaze and turned the river to molten gold.
‘The view is breathtaking,’ she murmured.
‘It certainly is,’ Dante agreed. Something in his voice drew Rebekah’s attention to his face, and she was startled to find that his eyes were focused on her rather than the view of the river. ‘And you’re breathtaking too. You look stunning in that dress, cara.’
She flushed with pleasure at his compliment and glanced down at the jade silk gown that had been among the clothes he had bought for her. She had decided to wear the clothes, but had insisted that he should not pay her any wages for the month and instead reimburse the money he had spent on her. ‘It’s a matter of pride,’ she’d explained when he had tried to argue. Dante had clearly been reluctant but he had agreed to do as she had asked.
‘The dress is beautiful, but it’s a bit too low-cut and I’m scared I’m going to fall out of it.’
‘I can hope,’ he said softly. The wicked glint in his eyes sent a quiver of anticipation through her and she wished they could finish dinner quickly and return to the hotel. Their luxury suite included a hot tub, and the memory of how he had made love to her in the water last night had lingered in her mind all day.
‘Thank you for bringing me here,’ she said softly. ‘Florence is a wonderful city, and I’ll always remember this trip.’
‘I’m glad you’ve enjoyed it. Maybe we’ll come back another time,’ he said casually. ‘I often spend a week or two in Tuscany in the autumn.’
Rebekah did not remind him that she would no longer be working for him then.
‘You’ve gone very quiet.’ Dante’s voice interrupted her bleak thoughts. ‘Is anything wrong?’
‘I’m worried about my grandmother,’ she replied, not entirely untruthfully. When she had phoned home the previous day her mother had told her that Nana had suffered a fall. Fortunately, she hadn’t been seriously hurt, but her increasing frailty was a concern. ‘When we leave Tuscany at the end of the week I intend to go straight to Wales to spend some time with her.’
‘I’ll arrange for you to fly there on the jet as soon as we arrive in England. I imagine you will want to stay with your family for a few days.’ His grey eyes sought hers across the table. ‘After that, why don’t you come back to London?’
Rebekah stared at him, wishing she could read his mind. Was he asking her to continue working for him, or was there another reason for his invitation? If he asked her to carry on their affair she would have to refuse, she told herself firmly. His interest in her would last for a few months at most. But while he would simply move on to another affair, she feared she would be left with a broken heart.
‘We made an agreement that I would leave you when I had served my notice, and nothing has changed.’
‘Of course it has,’ he replied imperturbably. ‘We’re good together, mia bella.’ He gave a laconic shrug. ‘Why change what is good?’
Because, for Dante, what they had amounted to great sex, while for her … Rebekah swallowed when he reached across the table and captured her hand, lifted it to his mouth and grazed his lips across her fingers.
‘Let’s go back to the hotel and I’ll show you how you make me feel,’ he murmured huskily.
There had been no point in continuing the argument, she thought when they left the restaurant and strolled hand in hand through the quaint narrow streets of Florence. They arrived at their hotel and, as soon as they stepped into the lift and the doors closed, Dante pulled her into his arms and kissed her so thoroughly that she stopped worrying about the future and focused on the sensuous anticipation of knowing that they would soon be enjoying the pleasure of making love once more.
In the bedroom he undressed her by the light of the silver moon and the diamond-bright stars that were visible through the open curtains.
‘Sei così bella,’ he whispered as he drew the jade silk dress down and cradled her voluptuous breasts in his palms. He kissed her mouth, her throat and breasts before he sank to his knees and explored the heart of her femininity with his tongue.
Then he stood and she stripped him with trembling hands. Dropping to her knees, she gifted him the same pleasure he had given her, caressing him with her tongue until he groaned and pulled her to her feet.
‘Wrap your legs around me,’ he bade as he lifted her and held her against his hips. When she complied, he entered her and she cried out with the joy of his possession. The world disappeared and only she and Dante existed. He made love to her with a passion and an exquisite tenderness that captivated her soul and brought tears to her eyes.
As for Dante, lying with Rebekah in the sweet aftermath of their mutual pleasure, he wondered why she was insisting that she intended to leave him when it was quite clear she did not want to go. Surely she realised how much he desired her? Perhaps she was afraid that if she continued their relationship she could end up getting hurt, he brooded. Knowing how her ex-fiancé had betrayed her, he could not blame her for being wary.
Turning his head, he saw that she had fallen asleep and he felt a curious little tug on his insides as he studied her rose-flushed face and long dark eyelashes that curled on her cheeks. She was so beautiful—a beguiling mix of sex kitten and gut-wrenchingly generous lover.
He did not want to lose her, he acknowledged. So did that mean he was prepared to make some sort of commitment to her? He gave a sigh of frustration. If only they could remain in Tuscany in the private little world they had created. There would be no reason for them to discuss their relationship and he could simply enjoy being with her. But that, he realised heavily, was a coward’s attitude. At some point he was going to have to come to terms with his past because he understood now that holding on to his bitter memories was preventing him from moving on with his life.
The storm broke two days after they returned to the Casa di Colombe. Ominous clouds had gathered over the distant hills and the air prickled with static electricity.
The strange tension seemed to reflect Dante’s mood, Rebekah thought as she pegged the washing on the
line, hoping it would dry before the rain fell. He had been behaving oddly ever since she had mentioned on the drive back from Florence that Nicole had told her he had once lived in New York. For some reason he had stiffened and muttered that it had been years ago.
She should have let the matter drop, but her curiosity to know as many details about him as she could had prompted her to ask him about Lara.
‘She was someone I met in the States,’ Dante had said tersely. ‘I don’t know why Nicole had to drag up the past.’
‘Was she a girlfriend?’ Rebekah could not help asking.
‘What does it matter who she was? I told you, I knew her years ago.’ He had given a careless shrug, but Rebekah had wondered why he had tightened his hands on the steering wheel until his knuckles had turned white. Realising that her prying had annoyed him, she had tried to make light conversation for the rest of the journey, but his responses had been monosyllabic. And that night, for the first time since they had been in Tuscany, he had not made love to her, but rolled onto his side, saying coolly that she was no doubt tired after their trip and she should get some sleep.
Maybe he was becoming bored of her, she thought bleakly as she walked back into the house. Maybe he was glad that they would be leaving Tuscany in a few short days, while she was dreading saying goodbye to him for ever. She was almost glad he had asked her to sort out his grandmother’s room. At least being busy stopped her from thinking about next Saturday, when they were due to leave.
Perlita’s personal belongings had not been touched since her death and Dante had requested Rebekah to empty the wardrobes and pack up his grandmother’s clothes so that they could be sent to a charity shop.
He walked in while she was pulling out boxes from beneath the bed. One storage chest contained old curtains but the contents of the second box were puzzling.
‘Children’s clothes,’ she said in surprise, ‘for a baby or toddler, I should think, from the size of them. And I guess, as they’re mainly blue, that they belong to a little boy. Oh, there’s a photo of a child …’ She reached into the box, but Dante leaned over her and snatched the picture out of her hand before she could study it properly.
‘Don’t touch anything in the box,’ he ordered curtly. ‘Shut the lid and leave it alone. In fact, you can leave the room. I’ll take over packing up my grandmother’s things.’
‘All right—keep your hair on!’ Rebekah sprang to her feet, but her irritation at being spoken to in such a peremptory tone faded when she saw Dante’s unguarded expression. It was the same agonised look she’d glimpsed in his eyes when he had shown her the photograph of his grandmother the day they had arrived at the house, nearly a month ago. She had sensed his grief at Perlita’s death was still raw. But why did he look devastated as he dropped to his knees in front of the box and lifted out a child’s teddy bear?
‘Boppa Bear,’ he murmured, as if he had forgotten Rebekah was there. ‘I had no idea Nonna had kept some of Ben’s things.’
She felt she should slip quietly from the room and leave Dante alone. He had told her once that he did not need anyone, but she did not believe it. The haunted look in his eyes evoked an ache in her heart and, without conscious thought, she placed her hand gently on his shoulder.
‘Who … who is Ben?’
‘It doesn’t matter.’ Shrugging off her hand, he dropped the toy bear into the box and closed the lid with a sharp thud before standing up. ‘It’s not your concern.’ He stared at her, his eyes no longer full of pain, but hard and unfathomable. ‘I came to tell you I heard your phone ringing somewhere in the house. You’d better go and find it.’
It was possible Dante had made up that he had heard her phone, but Rebekah had more sense than to ignore his strong hint that he wanted to be left alone. ‘I left it in the kitchen,’ she muttered as she walked out of the room. She could not help feeling hurt by his refusal to confide in her about the identity of the mystery child. Clearly the toys and other items in the box had held a sentimental meaning for his grandmother. Perhaps, many years ago, Perlita had lost a son, she mused. But the baby clothes were made of modern material and the bear looked much too new to have been fifty or more years old.
She heard her phone ringing. As she hurried along the glass-covered cloister and into the kitchen, the rain started to fall, smashing against the windows with awesome force that almost drowned out the low rumble of thunder.
The caller’s number on the screen was instantly recognizable and, with a sense of foreboding, she picked up her phone. ‘Mum?’
Ten minutes later, Dante swung round from the window, where he had been staring out unseeingly at the rain and frowned as Rebekah entered his grandmother’s room. ‘I told you I would take care of things in here,’ he said harshly. He controlled his impatience when he noticed her ashen face. ‘What’s the matter? Did you find out who was calling you?’
‘It was my mother. My grandmother is in hospital.’ Rebekah strove to keep the emotion from her voice but failed. ‘She … she’s not expected to last much longer. I must go home.’
‘Yes, of course.’ As he was speaking, Dante pulled his phone from his pocket to contact his pilot. In a strange way it was a relief to focus on something else rather than dwell on the fact that his grandmother had kept some of Ben’s things.
He glanced at Rebekah and his gut clenched when he saw the way she was biting her lip to prevent the tears glistening in her eyes from falling. For a moment he was tempted to take her in his arms and offer her whatever comfort he could. But a chasm seemed to have opened up between them. He could almost see her barriers going up and it was hardly surprising after the way he had snapped at her, he thought heavily.
He wished he had explained things to her. Perhaps if she knew about his past she would understand why he found it hard to open up and reveal his emotions. But now was not the time. She had problems of her own to deal with and his priority was to arrange her immediate return to Wales.
‘The pilot will have the plane ready in an hour,’ he told her. ‘Go and pack whatever you need, and I’ll arrange for the rest of your things to be sent on to you.’
‘Thank you.’ Rebekah blinked hard and willed her tears not to fall. So this was the end. It was possible that after today she would never see Dante again. It was better this way, she told herself, better that he had no idea she had fallen in love with him. At least she still had her pride. But it seemed a cold comfort and, as she turned in the doorway for one last look at him, she felt as though a little part of her had died.
Nana Glenys passed away peacefully a week after Rebekah returned home. The book of her recipes was still with the publishers, but Rebekah had taken copies of Nicole’s photos to the hospital. Nana had seemed more like her old self that day, and she had squeezed Rebekah’s hand and whispered how proud she felt that both their names were going to be on the front of the book. It was the last conversation Rebekah had with her but her grief at Nana’s death was eased a little by the knowledge that she had made her beloved grandmother happy.
The funeral was attended by the whole village, and in the days afterwards Rebekah helped her parents with the task of clearing out Nana’s cottage. Dante phoned when she had been in Wales for three weeks and asked if she would be returning to London. She had secretly hoped he would try to make her change her mind when she told him she wouldn’t be going back to him. But he merely wished her well in a cool, faintly bored voice which told her clearly that if she had not ended their affair he would undoubtedly have done so.
She hung on to her dignity long enough to say an equally cool goodbye, but as soon as she put the phone down she had a good cry and told herself how stupid she had been for falling for a playboy. Then she blew her nose and reminded herself that she could not remain at her parents’ farm indefinitely. She needed to find a job and get on with her life. Gaspard Clavier was still keen for her to work for him when she contacted him and suggested she meet him at his London restaurant to discuss plans for his new restaurant in S
t Lucia.
It was while she was studying her diary to pick a date to visit Gaspard that she realised she was late. It was now early September and when she flicked back through the diary’s pages she saw that her last period had been in the middle of July, while she had been in Tuscany. With all the upset over Nana’s death, it hadn’t occurred to her that she had missed a period in August. At first she tried to reassure herself that it was just a blip in her cycle. She couldn’t be pregnant. For one thing, she was on the Pill, and most of the time Dante had used a condom. But, as the days passed with no sign that would put her mind at rest, she did the only sensible thing and bought a pregnancy test.
As she sat on the edge of the bath, waiting as the minutes ticked past agonisingly slowly, she could hardly believe she was in this situation again. On the one previous occasion that she had done a test she had been looking forward to marrying the man she loved and had excitedly hoped the result would be positive. She had been overjoyed when she’d discovered she was expecting Gareth’s baby, but her dreams of a family had been shattered by his terrible behaviour, which she was convinced had caused her to lose the child.
Now, as she stared at the two lines in the little window of the test kit, she was swamped by a host of conflicting emotions. A new life was developing inside her. Dante’s baby! The child would not replace the one she had lost, but she felt an overwhelming sense of joy and fierce protectiveness. She would do everything possible to ensure this baby was born safe and well. And she would love it—dear God, she loved it already. But what would Dante’s reaction be? She felt sick as memories of Gareth’s angry rejection of her first baby haunted her. Would a notorious playboy react any differently to the news that he was to be a father?
Her GP had a further surprise in store when he said she could potentially already be ten weeks into the pregnancy. The unusually light period she’d had in Tuscany might have been what was known as spotting that sometimes occurred in the first month after conception.
At Dante's Service Page 12
