"Oh." She ventured a short way down the front path and peered at the bushes as if they might bite her.
Dino bundled the sheet up again and headed inside. "Come, cara. I will spread this out for you to put your mind at rest."
***
Maria hurried after her Italian, feeling like a complete twit. What would he think of her now? But at least he seemed happier. If rescuing her from her silly phobia took his mind off his worries, then some good had come of it. When they got back to room one, he spread the covering on the floor, then repeated the process with the other four small plastic sheets while Maria watched tensely from the doorway, ready to bolt if another eight-legged fiend appeared.
"There you are." He surveyed his work and dusted his hands together.
"Sorry. I know it's silly being afraid of spiders when we don't have any poisonous ones here. But their legs are just..." She shivered.
He shrugged. "Do not worry about it. My brother is this tall." He held his hand a few inches above his head. "He is terrified of spiders. And my mamma, who is this tall." He bumped the edge of his hand halfway down his chest. "She has to carry them outside for him."
He was trying to make her feel better about her phobia. Sweet of him, considering she had disturbed his lunch. "Let me make you a cup of coffee, Mr. Rossellini. I think you've earned it."
"Now I know your shameful secret, I think you should call me Dino." He had rested a hand against the door frame and was watching her.
Dino, that was cute and it suited him. She looked down to hide her smile. "Okay, Dino it is then." It wasn't unusual for her to call guests by their first names. They didn't stand on ceremony at the Crow's Nest. So why did this feel different?
***
A few days later, Maria sat on the floor in the sitting room, a heap of CDs beside her along with a pen and pad. She was babysitting Poppy and Charlotte, who were both playing happily on the carpet nearby. Poppy was quietly fitting shapes into holes while Charlotte noisily thumped the keys on her small plastic organ.
Maria turned over a CD that her dad played in the dining room and squinted at the song titles, looking for dates. Did anything on here qualify as suitable for the playgroup hop? She really was hopeless with music. She had no idea what people had listened to in the fifties and sixties. Frustrated, a sigh hissed between her lips. A hop needed dance music, and that wasn't something her family listened to. That meant she would have to search through someone else's music collection, or try to find songs on the Internet.
She should have asked Philip to give this job to someone else. She needed to learn to say no sometimes. Movement out of the corner of her eye made her look up. Dino stood in the open doorway, a hand resting on either side of the door frame and a frown on his face. "Good afternoon, Maria. These are your daughters?"
"My what? No!" Her hand rose to her heart at the thought. If only they were. "They're my nieces."
"Ah!" His expression cleared and he ambled into the room. "They have a resemblance to you, I think."
"Do they?" Maria had never noticed that the girls looked like her, but then she hadn't thought about it before. As Dino came in, Poppy moved closer to Maria and cuddled against her arm, while Charlotte banged her organ even louder and started shouting, showing off.
"You have a musician in the family," Dino observed with a wry smile.
Maria grinned as Charlotte clambered to her feet and toddled across to Dino, presenting him with the organ. "Dance, dance," she shouted.
He took the offered toy and shot Maria a questioning glance. "She wants me to dance?"
"No. She wants you to play so she can dance."
He smiled at the little girl and perched on the edge of an armchair, the organ across his knees. Then he started to play. Maria expected the usual random assortment of notes she was used to hearing. Instead, real music came out of the organ. Charlotte jumped around screaming and waving her arms. After a few minutes, Poppy couldn't resist joining her. Dino continued playing catchy tunes that segued seamlessly from one to another.
"You can actually play real music on it!" She laughed at the girls' antics.
"Hmmm." Dino pulled a face. "Maria, not even a maestro would be able to play real music on this toy."
"Well, it sounds like music to me." Finally Charlotte got overexcited and banged the organ along with Dino, creating the familiar earsplitting racket. Poppy started to cry. "Okay, you two. That's enough." Maria rose and Dino passed her the organ. She hid it behind a big pot on the mantelpiece. "Time for a drink and a nap, I think." She lifted both girls onto the sofa and handed them their cups. They started drinking their milk and sleepy eyelids fell.
Dino nodded towards the CDs strewn across the floor. "You are searching for something?"
She flopped into an armchair and poked at the square plastic cases with her toe. "I've got to come up with a playlist for a sixties hop we're running as a playgroup fundraiser. I'm not having much luck."
Dino went down on his knees and sorted through the music discs, then threw up his hands with a sound of displeasure. "You have terrible taste!"
She stared at him a little taken aback by his bluntness. Then she laughed. "You're an expert, I suppose?"
"I most certainly am." He slouched back against the chair he'd vacated, all dark and brooding and thoughtful. Her heart did strange little leaps and bounds as she watched him. "I suggest Dirty Dancing," he offered.
"Dirty what? Oh, you mean the movie." That was actually a really good idea. If she could find a movie soundtrack or compilation of suitable songs, she wouldn't need to burn any music to CD. And she knew exactly who to ask. Her sister's neighbor, Tina, loved movie soundtracks. "Great idea. You've just earned your dinner." Charlotte and Poppy had both fallen asleep drinking their milk. Maria set their cups on a table and tucked a blanket over them, making sure they wouldn't roll off the sofa. "Watch the girls for a moment, will you?"
She dashed through to the kitchen and quickly phoned Chris to ask her to stop in at Tina's and bring the Dirty Dancing CD over when she picked up her daughters. Then she made Dino a cup of tea, put a homemade chocolate muffin on a plate, and hurried back to the sitting room.
He had settled in a chair and was leafing through one of the children's plastic books. As she walked in, the book mooed, and he grinned like a little boy. He quickly set it aside when she handed him the tea. "So, you are going to the hop in old-fashioned clothes?" he asked.
She wouldn't call her outfit old-fashioned exactly, but she knew what he meant. "Yes, I've got something suitable for the era. I just have to learn to dance now," she joked. Although she didn't really intend to bother. She would be too busy helping with the catering to dance.
"Let me teach you."
"To what, dance?"
"Salsa." He rose and danced across the room with the athletic grace of a man whose muscles were perfectly toned and balanced, a man who knew exactly how to move.
Maria forgot to breathe.
He approached her, hands extended. "Come, Maria, it is simple. We will start with the five basic steps, forwards and back."
"Gosh. I don't know." She was quite likely to end up a puddle of mush at his feet. But he was standing in front of her, hands outstretched, demanding a response. She couldn't just ignore him. "Oh, all right. I'll give it a try."
With a tingle of nerves, she slipped her fingers into his warm grip and he pulled her up. "Now, cara, watch me." He counted as he stepped forwards and back. "Your turn."
Maria's cheeks burned as she copied his steps but rather less elegantly.
"Again," he said.
She tried again and he repeated his command.
"You're taking this very seriously."
"Ay ay ay, Maria. Do you not know that you must practice if you are to learn?" He took one of her hands.
She glanced up from her feet to his intense expression. This was a new side of him, this concentration and focus. She got the feeling he probably gave everything he did one hundred and ten percent.
She was willing to bet that nothing short of excellence would satisfy him. Whatever his job, he must be good at it. After she practiced a few more times, he took both her hands and danced with her.
At first she stared at her feet, but that was difficult when he was dancing in front of her. She raised her gaze to find him watching her, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "You see, Maria," he said, drawing her name out in a long, sexy drawl. "You can do it if you want to."
He showed her another move, a turn, and held her hand above her head as she twirled. His fingers were warm on hers and sensation raced across her skin from his touch. As she looked into the rich brown of his eyes, she realized she liked this man, really liked him. She was in danger of falling for him; in fact, she was already halfway down that slippery slope. But if she lost her heart to Dino Rossellini, she was setting herself up for disappointment. Even if he returned her feelings, a man like him would never want to make his home at the Crow's Nest.
Chapter Three
As Maria prepared dinner, her eye was drawn to the Dirty Dancing CD Chris had brought her. Maria had left the disc on the windowsill beside the small player, waiting for Dino to go out before she listened to it. If he caught her playing music, he would have her dancing again. It wasn't that she didn't want to dance with him, quite the opposite. Every time she had a quiet moment, she remembered the feel of his strong hands holding hers, the elegant way he moved. That was exactly why she shouldn't dance with him again.
The effect he had on her was confusing, blurring the boundary between guest and friend. She needed to draw a line in the sand, keep him on one side and her on the other. Already, she would miss him when he left far more than she should.
She donned oven mitts and pulled the lasagna she'd prepared from the oven. Serving lasagna to Dino, who must be used to the genuine Italian version, was a risk. But the dish was a favorite among their guests, so she had her fingers crossed Dino would approve. She placed the small ceramic bowl on a plate and while the pasta cooled, prepared a mixed salad. Then she wrapped two warm rolls in a linen napkin and nestled them in a basket.
At eight on the dot, his tread sounded on the stairs. She poured a glass of chilled water from the refrigerator, added it to the tray, then went into the dining room. Usually he was seated and waiting, but tonight he stood at the bay window, his back to the room. The stiff set of his shoulders alerted her something was wrong. As she entered and placed the tray on the table, he pivoted around.
"Is everything all right, Dino?"
"This is not right." He gestured at the food, and Maria's heart dropped. She should have known not to serve the British version of lasagna to an Italian.
"I'm sorry. This is one of our most popular dishes." She hastened to remove it, wracking her brain for another dish she could prepare quickly.
"No, no, I do not mean the food. It is not right that I should eat here alone while you do the same in the kitchen. Good food should be shared. Mealtimes are for relaxation and talk, a time to savor and enjoy. You will please join me for dinner tonight."
Maria's heart fluttered like a trapped bird and her hand went to her chest. His invitation simply meant he wanted company. Yet she felt as though she was slipping, falling, her emotions out of her control.
She glanced around the dining room at the other eleven polished wooden tables, the Victorian tiled fireplace on the far wall, the hearth resplendent with a huge display of dried flowers. She had lived at the Crow's Nest all her life, but she could count on her fingers the number of times she had eaten in the dining room.
When she looked back at Dino, he had moved to the chair opposite his and pulled it out. "It will be good to share the meal." He smiled.
Common sense told her to decline. But there was no way to turn him down without being rude and hurtful. She gave a hesitant smile. "Okay, then. Let me fetch my plate."
She hurried back to the kitchen and gripped the edge of the sink. How had her wish to help a stranger in distress become so complicated? Her mum and dad would have a fit if they found out she was here alone with a man. It was strange that being alone with him didn't worry her after what had happened in Austria. But Dino was different, not intimidating or threatening. She instinctively trusted him.
With a fortifying breath, she placed her lasagna dish, salad, and roll on a tray and carried it through to the dining room. She half expected to find he had started eating, but he was standing just where she'd left him with his hand on the back of her chair. She laid herself a place, and as she sat, he pushed the chair in for her.
Only then did he take his seat, a smile of satisfaction on his face. "You see." He gave an expansive gesture. "This is much more pleasant. Now we can eat and talk and enjoy this lovely evening." He tasted his lasagna and closed his eyes. "This is delicious, wonderful, sublime. You are a culinary angel, cara. You have a magical touch."
Maria glanced down at her plate, her cheeks heating. She was used to guests thanking her for a nice meal. But she wasn't used to such extravagant compliments.
Looking at Dino's animated expression and sparkling eyes, she could hardly recall the quiet, miserable man who had turned up on her doorstep a week ago. Delighted as she was to see him happy, this vibrant, charismatic man also made her nervous. "So you like walking?" she asked, struggling for something to say.
"Yes, I walk. A lot," he added with a wry smile. "I walk to think, to plan, to dispel anger and frustration, to enjoy the beautiful countryside, for the pleasure of being alive."
"You don't find it too hilly along the coast here?"
"Your hills are nothing to me, cara. Where I come from, the hills are like this." He angled his palm vertically.
"Where is that?" Maria was glad she had joined him for dinner if it meant she could find out more about him.
"Have you heard of the Cinque Terre, the five lands?" When she shook her head he continued. "These are five small towns on the Italian Riviera. It is rocky, very steep. My family, they live in Riomaggiore. Very beautiful, but full of tourists. When I was a boy, there were not so many and it was quiet. But now..." He gave a dismissive gesture and sighed.
"Is it anything like Porthale?"
"Yes and no. Here, I show you." He fished his phone from his pocket and switched it on. The device chimed to alert him to messages, but he ignored them and scrolled through his pictures. "Here, Maria, this is Riomaggiore."
She took the offered phone and examined the screen. The village was like something out of a fairy tale. Narrow, multicolored houses, three and four stories tall, were stacked up the cliffs like children's building blocks. Brightly-colored fishing boats drawn up on the pebbles around the harbor resembled fish laid out to dry. Above the village, what looked like rows of grapevines patterned the terraced fields. "Wow! This is pretty. How could you bear to leave it?"
He shrugged and gestured in a way she was coming to recognize meant he didn't want to answer that question.
"So your family still lives here?"
"My father and two of my brothers are fishermen, as I told you, and my eldest brother, he has a fish restaurant. One of my sisters is at college in Rome and the other is married to a fisherman from Manarola, the next town along the coast."
"That's convenient."
He smiled. "That is how things are there. People are good at providing for themselves. For years the area was cut off from the rest of Italy by mountains. It is only recently that a road was built."
His warm tone of voice betrayed his affection for the place. "You obviously love it."
"I try to return when I can."
"So what took you away from home?"
"I have to travel a lot," he said glancing away. She noticed he avoided answering the question, and although she wanted to know more about him, she let it go.
"And before you came here to Cornwall, were you in London?"
"Ah, London." Dino pulled a face. "London is like Roma, too many people. Always people running everywhere like little ants. I needed a quiet pl
ace to think. So I came here." He gestured again, taking in the village and the guesthouse.
She itched to ask him what he'd needed to think about. But she shouldn't pry. She forked in a mouthful of lasagna to help stifle the urge to ask. He became quiet, looking down at his plate as he ate, obviously remembering what it was that brought him here. If only their conversation had not gone in this direction. She hated to see him subdued. He was so vital when he was happy, more alive than anyone else she knew.
"So you, Maria, why are you here in this place? Do you not have college or university to attend?"
"Been there, done that, got the T-shirt," she replied.
He frowned. "A T-shirt?"
She smiled at his bemused expression. "I've been to college, Dino. I studied hospitality management."
"That is right for you, I think, but why are you not the manager of a big hotel now?"
"I like looking after the families with children who stay at the guesthouse. We're one big happy family here."
Their eyes met. A moment of understanding passed between them that stroked across Maria's senses like a caress. Dino appeared to be different from her, but in some ways they were the same.
She broke eye contact and changed the subject, telling him about the village and the playgroup committee and their fundraising activities. As soon as they finished the meal, she excused herself to tidy up, not wanting to draw out the evening as she would if she'd been dining with a friend. It was difficult to keep her distance from Dino, but she had to be careful. She knew from bitter experience that men could easily get the wrong impression.
***
After breakfast the following morning, Maria waited until she heard the front door close then scooted down the hall and peered out the window at the car park. The black BMW started and glided away down the lane.
With a sigh of relief, Maria went back to the kitchen and pressed Play on the CD player. She had thought she would never get a moment alone to listen to the Dirty Dancing disc. The strains of "Be My Baby" flooded the kitchen and brought a smile to her face. She loved the movie's wonderful, romantic plot and soundtrack but hadn't seen it for ages. As she prepared dough for more rolls, she danced on the spot, kneading and humming along with the music. Once she had put the rolls in the warm drying room to rise, she shook her floury apron out the door and danced back into the kitchen, practicing the salsa steps Dino had taught her.
The Ultimate Romance Box (6 Bestselling Romance Novels) Page 41
