by Penny Jordan
Leonardo grinned. ‘She says I am a wicked man, Ricardo. Is she right?’
‘You, Leonardo?’ Ricardo threw a shocked glance over his shoulder. ‘No, no. Leonardo—he is a good man. When my Louisa got sick, he pay for her to go to the best doctors in Rome. The best hospital. He always do things like that. We all love Leonardo on Capri.’ And he glared at Veronica in the rear-view mirror.
‘I was only joking,’ she said hurriedly. ‘Tell him, Leonardo.’ She poked him in the ribs.
‘She was only joking, Ricardo,’ he reassured the taxi driver. ‘She loves me too, don’t you, Veronica?’
Lord, but he was incorrigible. She rolled her eyes at him. ‘But of course, Leonardo. How could I not?’
‘I have no idea,’ he retorted, his expression one of barely controlled amusement.
Her palm itched to smack him. The man was a devil, wicked to the core. Or so she wanted to believe. But some inner instinct told Veronica that his wickedness was only skin-deep, that he had a genuinely warm heart. His love for his family and his friends spoke of a different man from the callous playboy who flitted from woman to woman, using them for his pleasure without care or commitment. Without love.
It seemed odd to her, now that she thought about it more deeply, for an Italian man of Leonardo’s family background not to want to get married and have a family of his own. She wondered what it was in his past that stopped him from settling down. She doubted it was that close call with the unwanted pregnancy. Perhaps it had something to do with his early retirement from the sport he’d been so passionate about. She might have asked him, if she’d imagined for a moment he would tell her the truth. But Veronica knew instinctively that he would not discuss his innermost feelings, certainly not with a woman who was just a ship passing in the night.
This last thought bothered her for a few seconds, until common sense came to the rescue. She was just a ship passing in the night. That didn’t mean their brief encounter couldn’t be both memorable and enjoyable. Veronica was determined not to complicate the weekend with qualms about what she was doing with Leonardo. She was an adult. She was entitled to a sex life, entitled to have some fun for a change. Even her mother thought so.
So why was she feeling as though she was running a risk in spending more time with this man? Why did the thought of his making love to her again bring a measure of anxiety along with the inevitable excitement? It annoyed her, this waffling in her head. He wasn’t worried. Just look at him sitting there, totally relaxed in her company.
Their arrival at the helipad might have been a welcome distraction from her mental to-ing and fro-ing. Unfortunately, the sight of the helicopter brought new worries. She’d forgotten, for a moment, how frightened she was of flying in one.
‘Oh, dear,’ she said, her stomach somersaulting as she stared at the fragile-looking craft. It wasn’t the large one Leonardo had arrived in yesterday. This was just a glass bubble with blades attached.
‘What is it?’ Leonardo asked straight away. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘That helicopter,’ she blurted out, pointing at it as they both climbed out of the taxi. ‘Is that the one we’re going up in?’
‘Yes. Why?’
‘It looks…small.’
‘It is small. It’s built for just two passengers.’
She turned to stare at him with wide eyes. ‘But…but…’
‘Don’t worry. I’m a licensed helicopter pilot. And that particular helicopter is brand new.’
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
‘ARE YOU OKAY?’ Leonardo asked Veronica gently as he strapped her in. She did look a little pale.
‘I… I suppose so.’
‘Here. Put this on,’ He gave her a headset that had a microphone attached. ‘Once we’re up and running, it’ll be noisy and you’ll need this to communicate.’ He showed her how to put it on before turning and putting his own on.
‘Have you always been afraid of flying?’ he asked, never having experienced such fear himself. He loved flying, especially when he was the pilot.
‘Only in helicopters,’ she told him.
‘I see. Don’t worry. I won’t let anything happen to you.’ When he leant over and touched her cheek Leonardo was surprised at how tender he felt towards her. How protective. She seemed so vulnerable all of a sudden, nothing like the rather bold creature of the night before. He would have kissed her if the microphone hadn’t been in his way. Instead, he smiled over at her, catching her eye and sending her a silent message of reassurance.
* * *
Veronica’s heart flipped over at the almost loving look Leonardo sent her. For a split second, she almost believed he cared about her. This was his skill as a seducer, she supposed. To make women think he cared.
But he didn’t. Not really. She knew that. Perversely, knowing the sort of man she was dealing with made no difference to her female reaction, either to his warm smile or the promise of safety in his eyes.
‘We’ll start with Capri, then I’ll take you over for a bird’s eye view of the Amalfi coast,’ he told her as she started up the engine. ‘We might even fly over Mount Vesuvius.’
‘But…but…’ she protested, having presumed that within fifteen minutes she’d safely be back on the ground. Capri was, after all, a rather small island.
‘No buts today, Veronica. I’ve hired this little beauty for four hours and I don’t intend to waste them. After you’ve seen the Amalfi Coast, we’ll set down at Sorrento for lunch. I’ve booked us a garden table at the best trattoria in town. Then, if we have time, we’ll fly south for a quick peek at Naples from above before heading back here. How does that sound?’ he asked with a quick glance her way as they lifted off.
Veronica’s stomach lifted off with them, so all Leonardo got in answer to his possibly rhetorical question was a sucked in gasp.
‘Breathe,’ he told her firmly. ‘And stop worrying. I’m a very good pilot.’
She didn’t doubt it. But his reassurance didn’t stop her anxiety. Or the gymnastics in her stomach. His breathing advice did eventually work. Either that, or she was soon so distracted by the magnificence of the view below that she forgot to be afraid.
Leonardo circled the island three times, pointing out the same places of interest that Franco had shown her. But everything looked better from up in the sky. Better and even more beautiful. The ancient Roman ruins. The huge rocks jutting out of the sea. The small towns and the cute little beaches. Some of the villas they flew over were splendid, with ordered gardens and big blue swimming pools, whilst others were much smaller, surrounded by different types of garden. Clearly, these houses were owned by the ordinary people who’d always lived here, not the billionaires who’d bought properties on Capri for other reasons. Privacy, perhaps. But more likely to impress. Veronica suspected there were quite a few of those.
Not Leonardo, however. Veronica was sure he didn’t want to buy Laurence’s villa to impress. It wasn’t that kind of place. Was it just the view he coveted, or something else? She would like to ask him but not right now. Right now she didn’t want to say or do anything to spoil the memory of what she was seeing.
Suddenly, the helicopter swung to the right and set off away from Capri, heading for the mainland.
‘Time for the Amalfi coast now,’ Leonardo said into her earphones.
She’d thought Capri was amazingly beautiful from the air, but the Amalfi coast soon showed her why it was one of the most visited tourist spots in Italy. Veronica hardly knew where to look. It was just one spectacular town after another. All of them hugged the shore with lots of the buildings perched on the very edges of breathtaking cliffs which plunged into the sea. Once again, most of the villas were white, which at the moment shone brilliantly under the midday sun.
‘You like?’ Leonardo said when she sighed her admiration.
‘Oh, Leonardo, your country is incredible. But also
a little bit scary. I wouldn’t like to drive on that road down there.’ And she pointed to the one that hugged the cliffs.
‘You would love it, in the right car. A Ferrari would be perfect.’
‘And I suppose you own a Ferrari?’
‘But of course. Unfortunately, it is in Milan. I could drive it down one weekend, if you would like me to.’
‘Don’t be silly. I wouldn’t ask you to do that. It’s too far.’
He shrugged. ‘The roads are good. And the car is fast.’
‘I don’t doubt it, with you behind the wheel. You have a thing for speed, don’t you?’
‘Si. It is a passion of mine. To do things fast. I love anything which gets my heart beating. My uncle says I am an adrenalin addict. The only time I slow down is when I’m on Capri.’
‘And not always then,’ she said drily.
He laughed. ‘If you’re referring to what happened last night, then that was more your fault then mine. When we get back to the villa I will show you how relaxed I can be in bed. Sex is one thing I don’t usually rush. I like to take my time with a woman. When she lets me,’ he added, casting her a rueful glance.
Veronica was thankful she wasn’t a blusher, but his pointed remark evoked a blossoming of heat deep inside her. She couldn’t wait for them to get back to Capri. And back to bed.
Lord, but he made her totally shameless. But then he was shameless too. She’d never met a man who spoke so openly about sex, and who just presumed she wouldn’t say no.
Which of course she wouldn’t. She couldn’t. Lust had taken possession of her body, a lust so strong and so fierce that it might have frightened her, if she hadn’t been so turned on. The level of her sexual excitement propelled her past all common sense and conscience. She wanted Leonardo. And she would have him. After all, there was nothing to stop her, least of all Leonardo himself. He wasn’t about to say no, was he?
‘It’s time for lunch,’ he said abruptly. ‘I don’t know about you, but I’m suddenly very hungry.’
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
LEONARDO DIDN’T WANT to bother with lunch. He wanted to take her straight back to Capri. It wasn’t food he was hungry for. It was Veronica.
He didn’t dare look at her again as he flew as fast as he could to Sorrento. That last glance had almost undone him in a way he couldn’t begin to process. Because it was outside even his experience. Over the years he’d had countless sexual adventures with countless beautiful women. But Veronica was unlike any he’d ever encountered, a strange mixture of siren fused with the most bewitching vulnerability.
Uncharacteristically, he wanted to ask her about this man—or men—who’d hurt her in the past, but experience warned him against going down that road. Asking a girl about her emotional baggage was fraught with danger—the danger of getting emotionally involved himself. He didn’t want that, especially with Veronica. Why, he wasn’t sure. A reason hovered at the edge of his mind, a reason which threatened to derail him totally. So he ruthlessly pushed it aside and concentrated on what he was good at where women were concerned.
Sex.
* * *
Veronica had always been able to pick up on people’s emotions by their body language. After she watched them for a while, she could see past their facade and tune into their pain, both physical and mental. It was what made her a good physio: the way she talked to her clients whilst treating them, the way she could find out what was bothering them and subtly offer some advice.
So, when Leonardo suddenly turned all stiff and silent next to her, she knew something was bothering him. But what? This time she had absolutely no idea.
They landed safely, if a little roughly, in Sorrento, a strong breeze off the sea moving the small helicopter around a bit. Strangely, Veronica had ceased to worry about surviving the flight, her focus entirely on the man beside her. She ached to say something which would break the awkward silence that had unexpectedly developed between them. Finally, just as he shut down the engine and the blades started to slow, she thought of something suitably innocuous.
‘Oh, Lord, I forgot to take any photographs,’ she said with true regret as she took off her headset. ‘When I woke this morning to such good weather, I planned to take pictures of everything and send them to Mum.’
When he took off his own headset and smiled over at her, Veronica’s heart squeezed tight with relief.
‘Don’t panic,’ he said, his eyes holding hers. ‘You can take photos on the way back, both of Sorrento and Capri.’
‘You’re right,’ she replied, once again struck by the beauty of Leonardo’s eyes. ‘I can do that. No need to panic.’
But if her thudding heart was anything to go by there was every reason to panic. She didn’t want to fall in love with this man. That would be a disaster!
Keep it light and keep it sexy, she lectured herself. Don’t start worrying about what he was worrying about a minute ago. It probably wasn’t anything serious, anyway. It certainly wasn’t anything to do with you.
‘Gosh, we’re up high here,’ she said as he helped her down from the helicopter.
‘Sorrento is built up on a volcanic shelf. Which reminds me. I didn’t take you over Vesuvius. Sorry. I forgot.’
‘That’s all right. Flying over a volcano in a helicopter isn’t on my bucket list.’
His eyes sparkled with genuine amusement, his earlier worries clearly gone. ‘You’re too young to have a bucket list.’
‘Never too young for a bucket list,’ she quipped back.
‘Perhaps you’re right.’
He took her elbow and directed her over to a waiting taxi.
‘What would be on your bucket list?’ she asked him on the way. ‘If you ever made one, that is.’
‘There isn’t anything I want to do that I haven’t tried.’
Except marriage and children, came the unexpected and unwanted thought. But then Leonardo didn’t want marriage and children, did he?
Never forget that, Veronica. The man is a playboy. Which translates as a man who’s stayed as a boy and who plays at life. Not a man to start having serious thoughts about. Or to care about.
‘You should get your phone out and take some photos on the way to the restaurant,’ he advised her. ‘And again, once we’re inside. This particular trattoria is a rather special place.’
It was. Very special. And very beautiful.
The formal dining room inside was extremely glamorous, worthy of a palace. Veronica snapped several shots of the plush surrounds and elegantly set tables. But they didn’t eat there, Leonardo ushering her through to what could only be described as a garden room. It reminded Veronica of eating under the pergola last night. But this was on a much grander scale, with glass and iron-work tables instead of wood, and the plushest of cushions on the chairs. Above, across an intricate framework hung a canopy, not of grape vines, but an assortment of climbing vines which boasted scented flowers of all colours. The sky could be glimpsed through the odd break in the foliage, suggesting that this room would be unavailable if it was raining.
But it wasn’t raining. The day was glorious, as was the setting, the service and the company.
‘What would you like to drink?’ Leonardo asked as he perused the drinks menu. ‘I won’t be having any alcohol myself. I never drink when I’m flying. I’ll just be having mineral water.’
‘Then I will too,’ she said, not wanting to be tempted to get herself tipsy to soothe her nerves. If she was going to have a fling with Leonardo—which undoubtedly she was—then she preferred to do it with a clear head.
‘Are you sure?’ he asked. ‘You don’t even want one glass of wine?’
‘No, your company is intoxicating enough,’ she quipped flirtatiously.
Surprise flashed into his eyes for a split second, followed by a wry smile.
‘You don’t have to flatter me, Veron
ica,’ he said. ‘I’m a sure thing.’
She couldn’t help it. She laughed.
‘I’m so glad to hear that, Leonardo,’ Veronica said, deciding this was the way to play it—light-heartedly and a bit naughtily. ‘Last night was over far too quickly.’
‘I fully agree. It was little more than an entree. But, speaking of food, here comes the waiter. Would you like me to order for you?’
‘Si,’ she said, and he grinned at her.
Veronica had no idea what he ordered but felt confident it would all be delicious.
The mineral water arrived quickly, as did a small plate of herbed bread.
‘Would you mind if I asked you something personal?’ she said once the waiter departed.
‘That depends,’ came his careful answer. ‘I told you before, I don’t discuss past relationships.’
Her smile was amused. ‘You don’t have any past relationships to discuss, from what I’ve read. No, I’m curious about why you want to buy the villa so much. Is it just the view, or somewhere private to escape to when you visit your parents?’
‘I suppose it’s a bit of both. But it also holds good memories for me. The weeks I stayed with Laurence after I broke my ankle were some of the happiest in my life. I learned to control my usual restless self and found pleasure in activities other than the physical. Of course, I have your father to thank for that. He was a man of the mind more than the body. And a very good teacher.’
Veronica found it hard not to feel jealous. How she would love to have spent weeks at the villa with her father; to be taught chess by him, and listen to his favourite music sitting by his side on the terrace. She might have even learned to appreciate wine.
Still, it was good to hear nice things about him, even if it was second-hand information.
‘How did you break your ankle?’ she asked. ‘Skiing, I suppose.’
‘No. Rock climbing.’
‘Oh, Lord, you are a one, aren’t you?’
