The Count's Prize

by Christina Hollis

  Once out in the sunshine again with a map provided by the resident housekeeper, Josie was careful to turn her back on the lime avenue. She set off in an entirely different direction from Dario, in case he got the impression she was following him. Heading out to the far side of the estate, she passed through shady groves of ancient olive trees and fragrant citrus, soaking up the sun. She wanted to reach the point where the di Sirena estate’s grand gated drive met the twisting country road that idled past on its way to Florence.

  She had spotted two men working on a stone wall there. In her experience, boundary walls were magical things. All through history, people had haggled over them and changed them, climbed over them and dropped things in the process, or hidden special little items in between their stones or under their foundations. She set off towards the workmen in a hurry, but the intense heat soon sapped her energy. Strolling along was the only way to travel on a beautiful day like this. A skylark lifted off from right under her feet, while corn buntings and yellowhammers rattled away from every thicket she passed.

  She had drunk almost a whole bottle of water by the time she’d toiled all the way over to the workmen. One of them had already left in search of his dinner. The other was clearing up ready to disappear, too. Luckily he was a fund of stories, with a keen eye for what he called ‘little bits of something and nothing’. She was listening to him intently when she felt, rather than heard, a drumming sound reverberating through the parched grassland beneath her feet.

  It was Dario. Mounted on a magnificent bay horse, he was cantering towards where she stood.

  Josie planned to call out a casual, carefree hello, as though his appearance didn’t make her pulse immediately speed up. However, as she watched him ride towards her like a prince, come out of a storybook to claim her for his own, the words somehow caught in her throat and she was silent as he drew up in front of her.

  He grinned. ‘I’ve had friendlier greetings!’

  Josie swallowed and managed to force words out of her suddenly dry mouth. ‘Oh … I’m sorry, Dario. I was engrossed in what Signor Costa had to say, and you caught me by surprise.’

  ‘As I see. What’s keeping you so busy?’ Bringing his horse to a halt, he circled it around while sharing a few words with his estate worker.

  ‘You want to know about the history of this boundary wall?’ he asked Josie when he had finished his conversation.

  She nodded, but looking at Dario made it difficult to remember what she did want. He looked magnificent, mounted high above her, the reins of his horse in one hand while the other rested loosely on the muscular plane of his thigh.

  ‘Yes—can you help?’

  He laughed. ‘Not directly. I came over to see if you needed a translator.’

  Josie’s heart turned a somersault, but she managed to keep her voice under control.

  ‘Thank you, but I can manage,’ she replied confidently. Then, afraid of sounding rude, she added, ‘I find I can concentrate better without distractions. I … I mean on my own …’

  ‘That’s a shame. I was looking forward to watching you at work. It makes a refreshing change. People don’t normally come here to do anything constructive. It’s a place built for pleasure.’

  Josie stifled an involuntary moan. The chances of getting any work done with Count Dario around were minimal. She would be spending all her time trying not to look at the scenery—and she wasn’t thinking about the Tuscan hills.

  What’s the matter with me? She struggled with her conscience. It won in the end—but only just.

  ‘Th … thank you for the offer, Dario, but at the moment I’m just fact-finding for the course I’m designing. I’m sure you’d find it very boring.’

  He looked at her, his eyes amused, as though he could see straight through her flimsy defences.

  ‘OK, then. I need to check up on something on the other side of the village anyway, so I’ll leave you alone to get on with your work—for the moment, at least.’

  He backed his horse to leave. Josie couldn’t decide whether she was relieved to be left alone or sorry that he was going.

  ‘Since you’ve taken the trouble to come all this way to stay in my home, I’ll ask around to see if anyone else has some stories about the boundary wall. And come to me when you’re ready to see some more of the Castello Sirena’s secrets.’

  He sounded completely genuine, but the smile she gave him in return was apprehensive.

  ‘That would be great. Thanks.’

  Josie had never known herself to be so easily distracted before—ever.

  This sort of thing happens to other women, not to me! she thought. It made her feel weak, which in turn made her feel cross with herself and she scowled.

  ‘Are you sure you’re OK?’ Dario asked.

  ‘It’s the heat, that’s all,’ she told him abruptly. ‘Sun like this is so rare in England, I’m not used to it.’

  ‘Then take care of yourself.’ Suddenly his voice was unexpectedly firm. ‘Keep to the shade, and always wear a hat. When I see you again, I don’t want it to be as a sunstroke victim in the local casualty unit.’

  Raising one hand in a salute, he rode away. Josie found herself staring after him and had to apologise to Giacomo, the workman. She didn’t need a translation of the workman’s reply. His knowing chuckle was enough to give her a pretty good idea of what he was thinking. Blushing furiously, she made a point of turning back to her study of the ancient stones that were being used to repair the wall rather than watch Dario.

  Work first, play later, she repeated to herself—but for once her usual mantra didn’t seem quite so comforting.

  Dario couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but there was something about Dr Josie Street that unsettled him. He kept thinking about her pale face and tense movements on and off for the rest of the day. She was socially awkward and dressed to disappear into the background rather than make a fashion statement. All the same, he could see why his sister had taken to her—Josie had a charm all of her own. She was delightfully easy to tease, and her innocence was irresistible for someone whose social palate had felt somewhat jaded of late. She had been so animated in her conversation with Giacomo. Dario had seen her gestures from a hundred yards away and automatically assumed she needed a translator. It was only as he rode nearer he saw she was simply engrossed in her subject. He liked that. He hadn’t been nearly so keen on the way she seemed to lose all her self-confidence when she saw him.

  She went out of her way to communicate with Giacomo, but she could barely string two sentences together once I appeared, he thought.

  For a moment, Dario was reminded of Arietta. He had no idea why, because she had been the complete opposite of Josie—talkative with him, but almost silent in company. Forcibly dismissing the image of his late fiancée, he tried to think of something else. It should have been easy enough. After all, he had lived without Arietta for far longer than they had been together.

  But to find her loss could still hurt him acted as a powerful warning.

  Arietta’s memory will not be allowed to come back to haunt me again tonight, Dario thought firmly as he got ready to go out for dinner that evening. As he fastened a pair of solid gold cufflinks into his white dress shirt, he heard the rapid crunch of gravel from outside. Looking out of a window, he saw Josie striding away into the distance, so he strolled out onto his balcony.

  ‘Where are you off to in such a hurry?’ he called down to her. ‘Can I give you a lift?’

  She stopped and turned in a clatter of falling equipment. She was carrying a shuttle tray but it was piled far too high with trowels, brushes and other tools. Now half of them were slithering to the ground.

  ‘Thanks …’ she put a hand across her chest as though trying to hide her practical but dull overalls ‘… but I couldn’t put you to all that trouble …’

  ‘It’s no trouble.’ He swung back into his suite but, by the time he had pulled on his jacket and made his way down to the courtyard, she was gone.

/>   Dario kept a lookout for Josie as he drove towards the main gates of his estate a little while later. When he spotted her, she was already hard at work beside the old boundary wall. They waved to each other in passing. That was something; but Dario knew she must have virtually run like a rabbit to have got there so fast. He wondered why. There could be nothing scary about him.

  Little scenes with Josie kept edging their way into his mind all that evening, despite the attentions of several female guests. Unlike Josie, they were all dressed in the finest clothes that Milan, Paris and New York had to offer. Everything—all their glamour, all their charm—was aimed straight at him. Dario got the same treatment at every party he attended, so he was used to it and hardly noticed. Occasionally he allowed himself to succumb to the flattery, but for some reason his heart wasn’t in it tonight and his mind started to wander. What sort of dresses might his new house guest have brought with her? He looked around the assembly, idly imagining Josie dressed in purple silk or black satin. At that point his mind veered off on a very interesting tangent.

  I’ve got sheets that colour, he thought. I wonder what Josie would look like between them.

  Just then a waiter materialised silently at his side. The man was holding a chilled bottle of champagne wrapped in stiff folds of linen.

  ‘No, thanks, I’m driving.’ Dario waved him away regretfully, but the interlude put a mischievous thought in his head. He always enjoyed champagne, and kept a good selection of vintages back at the castle.

  I’m sure a glass or two of that would help Josie celebrate her first day at the rock face, he thought.

  Making his excuses to his host, he left and made a rapid escape.

  By the end of the day Josie was so tired she could barely put one foot in front of the other, but she could not have been happier. For most of the time she had been alone, which for her made work more relaxing than any holiday. However, in spite of her determination, her mind had kept wandering in the direction of Dario and she needed a rest.

  Dragging herself off to bed, she set her alarm very early so she could write up her notes first thing and still be outside before sunrise. The last thing she remembered was the low drone of a powerful engine, cutting through the velvet darkness outside. As she closed her eyes, she remembered the way Dario had described the view from the solar by night and the beautiful turbulence of his expression when he’d looked at her. It was enough to send every other thought clean out of her mind. Drifting off to sleep in her sumptuous empress-sized bed, she smiled. This was a wonderful place, but Dario was full of dangerous temptation for her. The only safe place for an encounter with him would be in her dreams.

  By the time his car swung into the courtyard, she was fast asleep.

  Dario leapt out of his car but, before he called for a chauffeur to take it away, he glanced up at the West wing tower. It was in total darkness. That was a blow. Hoping Josie had simply switched off her lights to enjoy the view from the windows as he had suggested, he fetched a bottle of champagne and a couple of glasses. Then he went up and tapped on the door of her suite.

  Never mind. She can still have the full Castello Sirena treatment, he thought, ignoring his disappointment that he wouldn’t be there to share it with her. Scribbling a quick note on the bottle’s label, he stood it outside her door.

  For some reason he couldn’t quite fathom, he wanted to tempt Josie into having a little fun, more than he’d wanted anything for a while. His interrupted dinner party was proof enough. Maybe her resistance was simply a new challenge? Whatever the reason, clearly he wasn’t going to be able to get her out of his mind until he’d won her over.

  A long, leisurely lunch should kick things off nicely, he decided.

  Josie was so polite, Dario knew she would never be able to refuse his invitation.

  He smiled as he strolled off to bed. It would be deliciously ironic to use her typical English reserve to build bridges between them …

  CHAPTER THREE

  NEXT morning, Josie’s alarm woke her before dawn had tinted the sky. The temptation to roll over and snuggle down for another couple of hours was almost overwhelming, but there were a thousand acres of the di Sirena estate waiting to be explored, and she couldn’t resist that. Getting ready in double quick time, she flung open the door of her suite, ready to run out and get started—and almost tripped over a bottle of champagne waiting just outside.

  It must have been left over from Dario’s wild night out! She smiled, putting it aside.

  Josie hadn’t spent a night out—wild or otherwise—for ages. With a twinge of faint embarrassment, she remembered how painful social events like that could be for her.

  She slipped out of the castle while the day was still dim and the air cool. For the next few hours she crisscrossed the di Sirena estate and was soon cursing herself for not bringing a hat. She used pools of shadow wherever she could, but the sun burned hotter by the second.

  At first she was so absorbed by her work she had no time to think about anything else. Then she became aware that she was not alone. Wherever she went, Count Dario di Sirena was never far away. She spotted his horse tethered beside the olive press just after she left, then later she saw him approaching the dairy as she was heading away into the hills.

  It’s nothing but coincidence, she thought.

  Although coincidence couldn’t quite explain the sudden shiver she got every time their paths crossed.

  Dario thought that going out for a ride would give him some much needed space and time in his schedule to think. It worked—but not in the way he expected. The still, silent images of Josie observing him from her window, or waving to him as he left home the night before, kept creeping into his mind. He couldn’t puzzle out exactly what it was about her that attracted him, but it wasn’t for want of opportunity. It seemed that wherever he went today, there she was. She popped up in the most unlikely places, from the hay store to the olive press. After a while it began to make Dario feel slightly uncomfortable. He might have thought he was being stalked, but for one thing. Instead of following him, Josie always managed to be one step ahead. It was as though she was reading his mind and anticipating his movements. He snorted with derision. The idea was ridiculous—but it didn’t stop him thinking about it. Usually he was never in any doubt about anything, but Josie was definitely having an effect on him.

  From her tightly drawn ponytail right down to the steel toecaps of her sensible work boots, Dr Josie Street meant business. That made her almost unique, in Dario’s experience. Her furious blush when he’d explained about the champagne was the closest he got to an unguarded moment, and she barely said a thing even then. It was such a refreshing change from the endless, meaningless chatter poured into his ears at parties every night. Unless something was worth saying Josie kept quiet. Everything about her felt so calm, so stable and so right. So why did she always manage to put him on edge? Dario shook such thoughts away and decided it was definitely time to take command of the situation.

  When Josie found herself drawn to a shady glade, she didn’t consider there was anything mysterious about it—to begin with. It was simply her desperate need to get out of the heat and dazzling sun. Spotting the glitter of water in a forested depression overlooking the castello, she headed straight for it. There wasn’t time to enjoy the view as she slithered down a steep rough bank, desperate to reach the cool green depths of the woodland below. Only when she plunged between the gnarled sweet chestnuts, ash trees and birches could she catch her breath and take stock of her surroundings.

  As her eyes became accustomed to the cool gloom, a voice drifted through the trees towards her.

  ‘Ciao, Josie.’

  Dario had looped the reins of his horse over the low branch of a tree and was crouched beside it. He looked like a magnificent animal poised to spring—but in his hand he held a delicate, wide-brimmed straw hat.

  ‘You made me jump!’

  ‘I intended to.’ He grinned. ‘You didn’t take any notice of my warni
ng about sunstroke, so I’ve come to make you see sense.’

  ‘You seem to appear everywhere I go today,’ she said suspiciously.

  He stood up and walked towards her, offering the hat.

  ‘I could say the same thing about you. Everywhere I go, you’re there ahead of me. I got my staff to look out one of Antonia’s hats for you. She won’t mind—but I would be very disappointed if you refused this as well as my champagne, Josie.’ He smiled.

  The sight of Dario dominating the glade was almost enough to rob her of the power of speech. Although he was so tall and well built, he moved almost silently across the forest floor towards her. With his raven dark hair and beautifully honed body accentuated by his white shirt and dark trousers, Josie was reminded again of a panther stalking its prey. Realising what was likely to happen to her resolve if she didn’t keep Dario at a distance, she tried to put up a strong defence.

  ‘I notice you’re not wearing a hat yourself.’ Her voice was uncertain with nerves.

  ‘I’m used to the sun—although you’re quite right. Experience isn’t a licence to take risks. I make sure I keep to the shade wherever possible, as much for Ferrari’s sake as mine.’ He tipped his head towards where his bay horse was quietly pulling at some succulent undergrowth. ‘I’ve been exploring these hills all my life, so I know the best places,’ he said with a gleam in his eyes. ‘For instance, did you know this pool has a secret? We’re being watched.’

  Crooking his index finger, he beckoned her towards the water’s edge.

  ‘When we were children, Antonia used to love being scared by the monster that lives behind that curtain of leaves up there.’ He pointed to where greenery hung down over the source of a waterfall tumbling into the pool. ‘She used to dare me to pull it back, then she’d run away screaming when I did.’