Gorgeous Reads for Christmas (Choc Lit)

by Sue Moorcroft

  Glancing to her left as she made her way across the grass, she was relieved to see that the wrought-iron gates at the top of the wide drive leading to both of the houses were still locked. A heavy padlocked chain was coiled around the two gates, holding them together. Max was obviously still in the house and hadn’t decided to go off anywhere while Paula and Howard were sorting out their e-mails.

  As she drew near to the loggia, she saw that the French windows at the back of the house were open, suggesting that Howard and Paula had gone in that way. She’d go around to the front, she decided. She knew that Stephen used the French windows for convenience and she was certain that Max wouldn’t mind if she followed his example, but it wouldn’t feel right.

  She walked past the stone pillars that supported the loggia roof; clusters of pink roses were growing around each of the pillars, and she leaned across to smell them. At that moment, Stephen came bounding through the French windows.

  He glanced in her direction, and stopped short.

  ‘Jenny! What a surprise. I was just coming over to join you all. I decided to have breakfast with the others today. D’you know where you’re going or d’you want me to take you to the old man?’

  She straightened up and took a few steps towards him.

  ‘I’m fine, thanks, Stephen. I was just going round to the front. I’ve come across to check on Paula and Howard. They said they were going to try and hire a car for Saturday, and it occurred to me that they might need some help with the Italian,’ she added with a flash of inspiration.

  ‘They seem to be doing all right, as far as I can tell. Howard’s on the internet and Paula’s having a guided tour of the place. Go in this way. Uncle Max and I always do.’

  ‘Thanks,’ she said and she started walking towards the open doors.

  ‘Well, if you’re sure that you’re OK and you don’t mind going in on your own …’

  ‘You get off, Stephen – you don’t want to keep Clare waiting,’ she laughed. ‘But thanks for the offer.’

  ‘I’ll see you later, then.’ He grinned, gave her a little wave and started to run across to the cypress trees.

  She went up to the French windows, hesitated a moment, and then went through them into the house. Pausing, she looked around her at what was obviously a sitting room. Whoever had planned the interior design had managed to make the room look comfortable and, at the same time, stylish. Quite an achievement, she thought.

  When she’d gone a little further into the room, her gaze fell upon a huge oil painting hanging above the fireplace. She stared up at it, mesmerised. The painting was a stunning blend of greens on a stone-coloured background, absolutely perfect for its position in the room, and a fascinating exercise in colour.

  With great difficulty, she tore her eyes away from it, telling herself that she was meant to be looking for photographs, and she continued to look round the room. And then she saw what she was looking for. Three silver-framed photographs stood on a slender mahogany table next to the wall. Even from where she was standing, she could tell that they were informal family-type photographs, and she quickly went over to them.

  The first was of a very young Stephen. He was leaning against a dark-haired woman, who was smiling down at him. That must be his mother, she thought. The other two were of the same man – Peter. There was no mistaking the face that she’d first seen on the obituary. In the first of the two photos, Peter was by himself, staring into the camera. In the other, he had his arm round Max’s shoulders and they were standing in front of a large warehouse. Max couldn’t have been more than about fifteen or sixteen at the time.

  She picked up the photo and peered at it.

  ‘And in here you’ll see the painting that I had commissioned in London earlier this year. It’s by one of my favourite artists.’ Max’s voice came from just outside the sitting room door.

  She stood rooted to the spot, unable to move, the photo in her hand. The door opened and Max came into the room, closely followed by Paula.

  ‘Just have a look at this, Paula. It’s … Jenny!’ he exclaimed. His face broke into a broad smile and he took a step towards her. ‘What a lovely surprise.’

  Paula spun round to face her. For a moment Jenny thought she saw anger flash across her face, but the moment passed and Paula was smiling brightly. She must have been mistaken, she thought.

  ‘You should have told us you wanted to come across, too, Jenny,’ Paula said. ‘We would have waited for you. Silly you.’ She gave her little-girl laugh. But Paula’s bright smile didn’t quite reach her eyes, she noticed.

  She suddenly realised that Paula would have wanted Max’s undivided attention while he showed her his collection. No wonder she was annoyed to see her there. Upon reflection, she shouldn’t have invited herself along in the way that she had, and certainly not without asking the Andersons in advance. However, it was done now, and she’d have to brave it out.

  She put the photograph back down on the table.

  ‘I’m sorry for barging in on you like this,’ she said, moving over to them. ‘It was a sudden afterthought. When I woke up, I remembered that you were going to hire a car, Paula, and I thought you might like some help with the Italian.’

  ‘We didn’t have any problems, thank you. You can get an English translation online, or book through an English website – that’s what we did. But thank you for the thought, anyway,’ she added.

  Turning her back on Jenny, she started to look round the room, and then stopped. ‘Oh, Max,’ she cried, pointing to the painting that hung above the fireplace. ‘Is that the painting you had commissioned?’ She moved closer to it. ‘It has such feeling to it, such movement.’

  ‘That’s the one. And that completes my collection, such as it is.’

  Paula glanced at him over her shoulder. ‘It’s a wonderful collection. Truly it is,’ she said tremulously. ‘What a thrill to be surrounded by such beauty every day. Don’t you think so, Jenny?’

  ‘Yes, I do.’

  ‘But aren’t you afraid that people might break in and steal the paintings?’ Paula asked, frowning slightly. ‘They must be worth a lot. I’d be so frightened that I wouldn’t be able to sleep at night.’

  ‘Not really. It’s only a modest collection, and I don’t make a point of going round telling people what my hobby is. The windows and gates are locked every night and whenever the house is empty; the place is as safe as Fort Knox. The shutters lock automatically so you don’t even have to remember to lock them yourself. No, I don’t think anyone could get in, even if they wanted to.’

  Paula turned back to the oil painting and stared up at it. ‘I love all of your pictures, Max, and this one is particularly stunning, but it’s my second favourite, not my favourite. My favourite is that darling still life on the landing. I love the effect of the light on the fruit. Why don’t you show it to Jenny and see if she agrees with me that it’s absolutely the most wonderful thing ever?’

  ‘OK. Jenny,’ he said with a smile, ‘let’s see if your definition of the most wonderful thing ever is the same as Paula’s.’

  ‘Whilst you’re doing that, Max, I’ll go and have a look at the view from the loggia. That’s a picture in itself, an ever-changing one.’

  ‘That’s fine; go right ahead. Come on, Jenny,’ he said, leading the way into the hall. ‘And we can see how Howard’s getting on whilst we’re up there.’

  Just as he finished speaking, they heard the sound of Howard clattering down the stairs, two at a time. Seeing them approaching the foot of the stairs, Howard came to a stop on the bottom step.

  ‘You’ll find Paula on the loggia,’ Max said with a smile. ‘I hope you got everything done that was on your list.’ He made as if to go round Howard, but Howard stayed where he was, slightly blocking the staircase.

  ‘I thought I heard your voice, Jenny. I’m very grateful to you, Max. Yes, mission definitely accomplished. At least, I hope it is.’

  ‘Where does the hope come in?’

  ‘We as
ked to have the car brought here on Saturday morning, but it turns out that they’ve got an operative coming to the area today. He’s got to pick up a car near here this evening and return it to them. They’ve asked if he could bring us our car tonight. Apparently, it’s cheaper for them if we take it today than if we make them send out someone on Saturday.’

  ‘I don’t see what the difficulty is. Of course you must take the car today if that’s what they want you to do.’

  ‘Well, I’ve provisionally agreed. But I wanted to check with you first to see if that was all right. I can change the arrangement if it isn’t. The point is, we’d have to bring the car back here this evening so we’d need to have the gates open. We couldn’t risk leaving a hired car outside on that narrow road all night.’

  ‘That shouldn’t be a problem. What time do you think you’ll get the car?’

  ‘I’m not quite sure. We thought we’d go up to Montefalco in the late afternoon, wait for the car, and then bring it back here. If you’ve already left for the restaurant by the time we get back, we’ll dump the car and come up on foot and join you.’

  ‘Well, why not stay in Montefalco if the driver’s late getting there? You could go straight to the restaurant and meet us there. Then you could drive the car back after dinner.’

  ‘I was going to do that, but then I realised that I wouldn’t be able to have a drink. George has been going on and on about the bottle of wine he’s going to treat us to this evening and I’m very keen to try it. That’s why I thought we’d leave the car at the house and walk back into town. It’d be a crying shame not to have a drink on our first and last restaurant dinner together.’

  ‘I take your point. Well, how about us moving back our reservation? There must be a limit to how late these drivers work. Then we could all go in the minibus together.’

  ‘That’s very sporting of you, Max, but I think it’d be unfair on George. He does so like his routine, even if his habit of oversleeping sends it a bit off course at times. And it would be a shame to have changed the time if the driver arrived earlier than expected. It’s more than likely we’ll be back with the car long before it’s time to leave. But there’s just an outside chance that we won’t, and that’s what I’ve been worried about.’

  ‘It’s not going to be a problem, Howard. What I suggest is, if you’re not back by the time we have to set off, we leave the main gates closed, but unlocked. After all, it’s not as if it’s going to be for very long. But you mustn’t forget to padlock them before you come up and join us.’

  ‘We won’t. I promise. Thanks a lot, Max.’ He threw him a grateful smile. Stepping to the side of the stair, he stared over Jenny’s shoulder towards the sitting room. ‘I suppose I’d better go and find Paula. It’s time we made a start on our work, especially as we’ll have to cut short our painting time today. I can’t wait to get started on a picture that’ll have you reaching for your wallet, Max.’

  All three laughed, and Howard left them and went off to find Paula.

  ‘Why don’t we leave the still life for another time,’ Max suggested, ‘and have a coffee now?’

  ‘That sounds very nice, but I don’t really think I should. I ought to follow the Andersons’ example and get back. I’ve already been here much longer than I intended.’

  He grinned at her. ‘I take it that’s a yes, then. And so it should be; they’ll be fine. You’ve taught them a huge amount in a week, and it’s up to them now to put everything together as they think best. So, let’s have that coffee.’

  Sitting side by side at a large round table on the loggia, they stared across the garden to the shadowy outline of the distant hills, grey shapes veiled in the last traces of the morning mist.

  ‘What a view,’ Jenny sighed. ‘You’ve got beauty outside your house and beauty inside it, too. I’m not sure you can claim all the credit for the first – apart from buying the house in such a lovely spot, that is – but you can for the second. You’ve an excellent eye, Max. Your appreciation of line and colour can’t be taught: it’s something that you’re either born with or you’re not.’

  A look of pleasure swept across his face. ‘I’ve never thought about it like that.’

  ‘I’m being honest. Your paintings are fabulous. Despite you talking it down, the collection’s clearly worth something. Anyone who knows anything about art would know that the moment they saw the pictures – but it’s an investment based on real appreciation. And the same can be said of your house.’

  ‘Be careful: in a minute, I’ll be sacking you and taking over the art classes myself,’ he said with a laugh. ‘But seriously, I don’t think about their value. They’re not for sale: they’re for me to enjoy, not for me to make money from.’ He paused, and glanced at her. ‘Of course, collecting pictures, as with anything else, is much more fun when you can share your passion with someone else. Wouldn’t you agree?’

  His dark eyes remained on her face.

  She picked up her cup, and put it down again.

  She’d no idea why she suddenly felt as nervous as she did about the change in direction of their conversation, about the caress in his tone of voice. After all, this was what she’d hoped for when she’d come to Italy. She should feel triumphant, and be alert and ready to profit from the situation. She shouldn’t be feeling lost and confused. But she was.

  ‘Don’t you agree, Jenny?’ he repeated quietly.

  Playing for time while she struggled to overcome her emotional turmoil, she took one of the amoretti from a ceramic dish in the centre of the table and started to unwrap it.

  ‘Of course, I do,’ she said, directing her attention to the paper wrapper. ‘Everything is much better when you can talk about it with a friend.’

  He sat back in his chair, and stared hard at her. ‘I’m curious about something. Why did you come here this morning? Don’t get me wrong – I’m delighted that you did. But why did you come?’

  She stopped playing with the paper and looked at him, startled. ‘I told you. I wanted to help the Andersons with any Italian they needed.’

  ‘Now why don’t I believe you? Could it be because I’m certain you know as well as I do that you don’t need to speak Italian to hire a car online? I suspect you came over for a totally different reason.’ He leaned forward. ‘Or do I just want to think that?’

  She blushed. ‘Believe it or not, it’s the truth.’

  He straightened up and smiled wryly at her. ‘And that’s why you were looking at the photos of my family when I found you, is it? Despite the urgency of your desire to help the Andersons, you left them to struggle on without you while you stopped to look at a few snapshots.’

  ‘I was just curious.’

  ‘About what?’

  This was it, and she had to give it everything she’d got, even if it meant leading him on in a way that wasn’t fair to him. It could be the only way she’d get the truth.

  ‘About what your family looked like.’ She glanced up at him from under her eyelashes. ‘I haven’t met many businessmen before, but I can’t believe that there are many like you, with business prowess, a passion for art and real taste. I suppose I wanted to know more about you, and your family seemed the right place to start.’

  She let her clear blue eyes linger on his face.

  He reached out, took her hand in his and stroked it gently with his index finger. Her insides dissolved into liquid honey. ‘That’s what I hoped you’d say, because I feel the same about you, Jenny. You must have sensed that; you can’t not have done. I want to know everything that there is to know about you, about your family, about the things that made you the lovely person you are.’

  She pulled her hand away. His sensuous caress was doing things to her insides, turning them upside down, making her tingle all over, making her want to give in to the way she was feeling, the way she couldn’t stop herself from feeling, hard though she tried. But she mustn’t: it could never be. She had to keep a conscious distance, even if it didn’t look as if she was.
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br />   ‘And I feel the same way about you, Max,’ she said, her voice hoarse to her ears, ‘although I know I shouldn’t. You’re the man I work for, and I mustn’t let myself forget that, much as I might want to.’

  ‘Isn’t that something I should have some say in?’ he asked quietly.

  She put her hands to her cheeks. They were hot to her touch. She stood up and pushed back her chair. ‘Talking of work, I really must get back to the class now. They’ll have started on their projects a while ago and I ought to see how they’re doing.’ She took a step away from the table, and paused. ‘I’m sorry, but I’ve really got to go.’

  He nodded. ‘I suppose you have,’ he said with a rueful smile. ‘I won’t see you again till lunch – I’m going to do my drawing project here. There’s a wonderful view from my bedroom window, and I intend to sit there and draw what I can see. I’m going to include the window frame, too. It’ll be a sort of frame within a frame.’

  ‘How funny: I’m going to paint the view from my window too, even the frame.’

  His face broke into a smile of triumph. He stood up and went around the table to her side. ‘You see, Jenny, we’re kindred spirits, just as I thought. And kindred spirits definitely trumps the boss and employee relationship.’

  Her knees trembled. She couldn’t move.

  ‘Yes,’ he said, raising his hand and gently pushing her hair back from her face. ‘We’re kindred spirits indeed.’

  She looked up into dark brown eyes that were flecked with gold, eyes that were gazing down at her with love. Her power of movement returned, and she spun round and ran towards the cypress trees.

  Chapter Eleven

  Stephen sighed deeply and rubbed his stomach. ‘Do we really have to wait for Howard and Paula to get here, Jenny? I’m starving.’

  She glanced at her watch. ‘I must say, I thought they’d be here by now.’