RossellinisRevengeAffair
Page 8
“You will do what you have to do?” His lips curled in disgust. “You make your agreement sound like such hardship. I do not want to find that you have changed your mind and that my niece is relegated to Child Services while I petition the courts. I want your vow not to walk away from your responsibilities to the baby until I have full custody.”
“I said I’ll do what I have to. I mean it.” She did a double take. “Did I hear you right? Did you say ‘niece’?”
“I found out this morning.”
“That’s where you went last night? To Wellington? To be with her?”
“Yes, Maria went into premature labour last night.”
“And the baby, is she—”
“She is still safe within her Mamma.”
Lana sagged deep into a chair. The weight of what she’d agreed to bore down heavily on her slender shoulders. The little girl, when born, would still require much care. Was she up to that? Could she follow through on her bold statement of just a few moments ago? As if Raffaele could see into the confusion that chased through her mind his next words made her sit up and take notice.
“I suggest that if you are truly serious about your intention, that you and the baby live with me. If I am supporting you at least the courts cannot deem you to be unsuitable to be the child’s guardian, especially as you have no means to support yourself without my money.”
Lana fought the urge to flat out argue with him that she wasn’t about to change her mind about something as important as this. But then she realised, change her mind was exactly what she’d done. To his eyes she probably did look as fickle as the direction of the wind. She moistened her lips before answering, aware of his eyes tracking the movement of her tongue as it swept her lips and of the muscle that flexed in his jaw. “Live with you? Where?”
“On the outskirts of the city I think. Where you can ensure you will have the privacy you need until the mediano longer wishes to pry into your life. Somewhere safe for the baby. I will set up appointments in the morning. We can look for appropriate accommodation together.”
“But what about your business? How can you spend so much time away. Shouldn’t you be back in Italy?”
“My brother is managing things capably at home. It is more important to me to be here now. Besides, I’ve been working to expand my interests in this country for some time; it was why I was already here when the accident happened. It will be no hardship to base myself here for however long is necessary.”
“Then I agree. Get a contract drawn up. I’ll sign whatever I have to.”
She thought he was going to say something more but then he simply nodded and walked over to stand next to her at the sideboard. He picked up her glass and handed it back to her.
“A toast, I think. To new beginnings.”
She raised her glass to his. “Yes. New beginnings.”
Seven
Raffaele hired a car late the next morning and they headed south down the motorway, eventually taking the Manukau turnoff. After a short drive through the suburbs they hit rolling green countryside. For a few hours they meandered along the lazy country roads, getting a feel for the land and the district before stopping for lunch at a bustling café in the tiny township of Whitford.
While Raffaele waited at one of the outdoor tables for their coffees and lunch to arrive, Lana took the opportunity to browse in the gift shop next door. Clever groupings of colours caught her eye as she wandered between the shelves of artfully arranged gifts and the aroma of scented candles teased her nostrils.
A display of baby’s clothing caught her eye, the tiny white cotton tops and booties eliciting a wistful sigh. For the first time since she and Kyle had given up hope of having a baby of their own, it didn’t strike a painful blow to see the miniature items of clothing. She reached a tentative finger out to touch the fabric. So soft, so gentle. Without realising what she was doing, Lana lifted one of the cotton tops to her cheek, her eyelids fluttered closed as she indulged in the texture against her skin. For the first time in forever, it felt right to want something like this. She’d always wanted Kyle’s baby, but hadn’t ever imagined that it would happen like this.
Absently Lana selected a pastel coloured horse made out of a patchwork of fabrics, and a pair of socks so small only two of her fingers fit into the top. Mentally she tallied up the prices and her heart skipped as she remembered that she still had the proceeds from selling her rings in her purse. She could buy these if she wanted to. The simple pleasure in knowing she could do so sent her blood singing through her veins and she chose another toy, another T-shirt.
“Let me take those from you.” Raffaele’s voice rumbled behind her and she started, almost dropping her selections. Raffaele deftly scooped them from her arms before they could tumble to the shop floor. “Is there anything else you’d like?”
“I can get them myself. I have the money.” Instantly her pleasure in her prospective purchases dimmed and it must have shown on her face.
“Keep your money. I know how hard won it was for you.” Raffaele gave a tiny bow of his head and took her things over to the counter.
Inwardly, Lana seethed. Was this how it was going to be? Was he going to cut her out at every opportunity? She turned on her heel and stalked back to the table where she threw herself into the café chair and stared resolutely across the busy road to the shops on the other side. It was childish, she knew, but her disappointment had cut deep. A dark shadow fell across her as Raffaele returned, his purchases in a neatly packaged bundle.
They sat in stilted silence while they completed their al fresco meal. As Raffaele finished the last of his coffee and replaced his cup on its saucer he followed Lana’s gaze to where she continued to stare fixedly across the road rather than make eye contact with him.
“Come,” he said, rising from his seat and collecting the package. He gestured across the to estate agent’s window across the street. “The agent should be ready to meet with us now. The area has a good feeling about it, don’t you think?”
Lana followed Raffaele across the road and into the office that had caught his eye. The agent inside greeted them effusively and briefly outlined the properties he had to show them, offering to take them in his car.
“No. We will follow you.” Raffaele insisted. “We need to be able to return to the city at a moment’s notice.”
The stark reminder that Raffaele might leave at any moment to attend the birth of his niece sent a chill down Lana’s spine. Suddenly it was all too real. Could she really do this?
“Lana?” His voice penetrated her fear.
He stood in the doorway, holding open the door for her to precede him to the car. She swiftly gathered her thoughts and ducked past him. Even as she did so the intriguing aroma of his cologne tantalised her nostrils. She breathed in his scent, and tried desperately to ignore the tingle of awareness that crept through her body. She felt his presence beside her as if it was an imprint against her body. Even her heart seemed to beat in time with his stride as they crossed the road back to their parked car.
In the confines of the luxury sedan she tried to distract herself from the strength of his hands as he capably held the steering wheel, negotiating the car along the road and easing its speed up to the hundred kilometres an hour limit. His warmly tanned skin glowed against the crisp white cuff of his shirt. A smattering of fine dark hairs gave a raw masculine edge to the highly polished persona he presented. From the broad flat width of his wrists his hands tapered into long fingers.
She’d felt the brand of those fingers at her hips, her breast, and suddenly, desperately, she wanted to feel it again. A tremor shimmered through her body in response to her wayward thoughts.
“Cold? I will adjust the air-conditioning if you like.”
“No, it’s all right. Just a sensation, that’s all.”
“Sensation?” He shot a curious look in her direction before shifting his attention back to the road.
“Don’t worry. It’s nothing.”
They turned down another side road and travelled only a few minutes before slowing in front of a gated driveway. The Realtor leaned out the car window to punch in a series of numbers onto a security pad at the gate and the elaborate wrought iron fencing slowly slid away to one side. A pale terracotta coloured ribbon of driveway lay ahead, flanked with cypresses topiaried into military precision. He gestured for them to follow and they travelled in slow procession down the drive.
Stretching away to either side were groves of trees that Lana couldn’t immediately identify, but as they pulled up in the large circular driveway, punctuated by an elaborate marble fountain, her pent up nerves released on an ecstatic sigh. The two-storied Tuscan styled villa sprawled with architectural elegance in front of them. If Lana hadn’t known for a fact they were still in New Zealand she would have felt as though they’d been transported to the Italian countryside.
Inside the house they weren’t disappointed. Formal rooms stretched with airy grace onto a huge cobbled patio at the rear where a long rectangular pool reflected the winter sun with dappled invitation and large terracotta pots planted with ornamental fruit trees stood sentinel at the base of each arch of the covered patio off the family room.
The Realtor watched them traverse the downstairs rooms with an indulgent smile.
“Mr Rossellini, when you mentioned you were interested in property where you could experiment with organically grown olive trees I couldn’t believe my ears. This property has just come on the market in a deceased estate. The original owner was a powerful advocate for organic methods and the trees are mature and fruiting and there are several other growers in the area who supply fruit also.” He rattled off yield figures and talked some more about the press and bottling facility that was also situated on the property. “The family are keen to sell as a going concern rather than parcel off the land.”
Raffaele fired question after question at the Realtor while Lana continued her exploration of the ground floor rooms, then made her way upstairs. The master bedroom suite almost covered a third of the entire upper floor. She hurried through the bedroom, averting her eyes from the super king sized bed dominating the room and past the his-and-hers walk-in closets to the master bathroom. The bathroom was more ornate and well appointed than anything she’d ever seen outside of a lifestyle magazine. She drifted a hand across the edge of the large whirlpool tub mounted on a slight pedestal in front of glass-paned doors which opened onto a private balcony. It would be bliss to relax in here of a summer evening with the doors open to a sparkling night sky. The tub was more than large enough for two.
A sharp pang of longing tightened deep inside her and an all too vivid picture of Raffaele’s tanned body, lying supine in heated rushing water, burned across her imagination. She shook her head slightly to clear it of the image. How did he do that to her? How did he invade her thoughts so she imagined him naked, imagined touching him, sliding her hands along the length of his legs and higher to his hips, his groin.
“No!” She spun away from the bath and moved swiftly through the master suite and across the upper level to the opposite wing where the other accommodations were.
She cursorily inspected the other three upstairs bedrooms, each with their own bathroom and view over the property in a different direction. Combined with the guest suite she’d seen downstairs the house boasted more than enough space for herself, Raffaele and one tiny baby.
She drifted back down the wide curved staircase and followed the sound of the men’s voices as they stood outside on the patio. Raffaele turned to acknowledge her presence with one raised brow. His sharp grey eyes impaled her as he spoke and she almost felt as though he could see where her wayward thoughts had led in the master bathroom. Heat rose up her neck and bloomed in her cheeks.
“The property is suitable. I will take it.”
Lana halted in her tracks. Just like that? She flicked a glance at the Realtor who looked like he’d suddenly died and gone to heaven. She could only begin to imagine the commission on a sale like this one.
“Are you certain?” She asked, a tiny waver in her voice. He had to be talking a couple of million dollars here, at the very least.
He stiffened. “There is something you don’t like?”
“No—no, there’s nothing. I just thought you might want to see the whole property before you made up your mind, that’s all.”
“I have seen enough to satisfy me. As it is a deceased estate I will take all the furnishings as well. I can replace anything not suitable.”
The Realtor scurried out to his car to get the paperwork ready to be signed. It was obvious the guy could barely believe his luck. They completed the necessities in a modicum of time, the trustees for the estate having happily accepted Raffaele’s offer over the telephone. It was agreed, until settlement could occur, Raffaele would lease the property and they could move in within the next week.
Lana looked around her. This would be her home for however long Raffaele’s parenting order took to take precedence over her guardianship. As far as she could see in either direction the land would be Raffaele’s. The olive grove was substantial and, if the figures the Realtor had been quoting were genuine, the property was self-sustaining with a growing market already well-established.
“It is beautiful,si ?”
“Very beautiful. I can’t believe you negotiated that so quickly.”
“Negotiated? No. I do not negotiate. I made an offer that was more than fair. The family of the past owner wins, and I win too.”
He swivelled around taking in the panoramic vista. If it were not for the different light in this part of the world he could almost fool himself that he was again back in the land of his birth. What he wouldn’t give to be able to bring his mother and sister here. To make a fresh start for all of them.
Grief gripped his heart in a cold tight fist. Dreams such as those were self-destructive. One should never wish for what could never be; he reminded himself with the staunch practicality that had seen him rebuild his family’s fortune after his father’s poor decisions. It would have to be enough that he could provide this home for his niece. Already he could see her playing here amongst the trees as she grew up.
Between this property and his vast estate in Italy, Maria’s daughter would want for nothing. She’d have freedom, security and everything his money could buy.
A movement on the periphery of his sight reminded him he was not alone. Lana. What did she think, he wondered. With the very obvious display of the power of his money in making this transaction happen so quickly did she think herself in line for some of it too? He fervently hoped so. The pittance he’d agreed to pay her to stay and act as guardian to the baby would not even scratch the surface of his wealth. She had no idea of what she was dealing with.
“Come, we will return in a few days. We must head back now to the city.”
“Will you get an inventory of the furnishings and chattels?”
“Why do you ask?”
“We will need to order new sheets, towels—all sorts of things.”
Raffaele fought to quell the surge of anger that rose within him—already she was spending his money, although, as much as it galled him to admit it, he had to concede that she was correct. The items she’d mentioned were necessary.
“You can get the lists she needs?” Raffaele asked the Realtor.
“Yes, certainly. I’ll fax them through to yo
u at your hotel in the morning.”
“Thank you. That would be acceptable. If that is all, we should go now.”
The soles of his shoes clicked on the tiled patio as he walked towards her and took her arm to lead her back through the house. They waited in the portico at the front entrance as the Realtor reset the alarm system and locked the front door. The man reached out a hand to Raffaele.
“Thank you, Mr Rossellini, it’s been a pleasure doing business with you.” He turned to Lana to also shake her hand. “Mrs Rossellini.”
Raffaele’s back went ramrod straight. “She is not my wife,” he corrected the Realtor in a voice that growled ominously in the semi-enclosed area.
“I do apologise.”
Raffaele nodded his curt acceptance of the man’s apology and opened the car door for Lana, ushering her inside. No, a woman like Lana Whittaker could never be his wife. He liked his women filled with warmth and passion. Not cold and calculating and driven by money. While Lana’s response to him the other night showed she had passion buried deep within her, and physically she called to him on a base level, he could not forgive her for clinging to a marriage long dead and the resulting carnage that had caused.