When they were both dressed, Dario escorted her all the way back to the castello, but neither spoke.
Josie couldn’t help thinking he had been silenced by regret, and that idea struck her dumb with despair.
CHAPTER TEN
DARIO sat in his estate office later, tapping the end of a pencil against his teeth and staring at the Monet he had bought last time he was in New York. He would remember the night of his thirty-third birthday for the rest of his life, but not with pride.
He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, wincing slightly over the place where he had caught himself with the razor earlier that morning. It had been very difficult to look his reflection in the eye. Josie was affecting him in an unusual way. He always aimed to love women and leave them before either of them got hurt. He winced again. The mere thought of that four letter word ‘love’ made him cringe inwardly whenever he thought of Josie, and he had been thinking about her a lot over the past few hours. She was different in every way from the girls he usually dated. They weren’t afraid to show their feelings. Instinctively, he had always known Josie wasn’t like that. She wasn’t the sort to make a fuss. She had stood up for her ex-fiancé after all, even though he had cheated on her and then walked away. Dario grimaced. He had waved goodbye to any number of women over the years, but this was his first experience of a girl waving to him first.
He checked his diary. With a lurch of concern he saw that Josie was due to leave within a week. He thought of her beautiful sunlit face that morning, and frowned. She had looked so preoccupied. What could possibly be worrying her? A surge of lust powered through his groin and he laughed at himself. Concern for a woman’s state of mind hadn’t troubled him for years. Wanting to experience her body again was a much more familiar urge.
For some reason he couldn’t get Josie’s words out of his mind.
I’ll be gone soon.
They were true enough. Both she and Dario had known the date of her departure from the time this visit was arranged. So why had she kept mentioning it? Their exchanges in that awkwardly formal ‘morning after’ moment kept assaulting him in flashback.
We’ll put this down to experience.
That agreement should have made him feel happier—after all, he had said it so many times to so many women over the years.
Why isn’t it working this time? He ran his thumb back and forth across his lower lip. Why not?
He winced yet again, but not at the thought of what they had done last night. That still kept his body alight with desire. He puzzled on, gnawing at the problem like a wolf in a snare until the answer came to him in a single word.
We.
That word was the stumbling block. He hadn’t used it since Arietta was alive—the last time he had felt part of a couple. And Josie had used it as well.
Suddenly he realised the truth—the clue to this whole problem. Josie had thought of them as a couple, not as simply a one-night stand. She didn’t really want it to end yet, any more than he did. At that thought, his pulse started to race. His body tightened with an instinctive roar of possession at the very thought of her walking to another man. The strength of his reaction surprised him … terrified him.
He grasped suddenly for an image of Arietta. For a panicked moment, he couldn’t recall her face. He concentrated fiercely, feeling how much he’d loved her, how he was responsible for her loss, and soon felt calmer. Josie had been right to leave. He couldn’t offer her anything more than a fling, even if she wanted it. Ruthlessly ignoring the small voice which continued to protest against never holding her in his arms again, he forced his attention back to the estate.
A day later, head down, Josie marched towards her camp beside the old olive press. Not even work had been able to do anything about her burning sense of shame and self-loathing since the party. How could I have been so stupid? Dad and Andy both promised me the world, but they still walked away. If I think a rich playboy is going to be any different, then I really am fooling myself …
Work had been such a safe haven for her until now; she had convinced herself that it was all she ever needed. Then one look at Dario and her defences had crumbled. The moment he’d taken her hand at the party, Josie had known there could be no other man for her, not even if she lived to be a hundred. But she had to face facts. Dario had a reputation as a Casanova, and no man would give that up lightly. He might have played the part of honourable Count to perfection while he’d escorted her back to the castello, but that would be the end of it. Josie knew only too well how easily men could change and turn away.
Dario’s lifestyle keeps admirers circling him like reef sharks. He never lingers with anyone for long, so why did I think I was any different? she thought furiously. I had to finish it before he got the chance to break my heart. By this time next week, he won’t remember what happened between us. In a month’s time, he won’t even remember my name. But his effect on me will last for ever …
There was nothing for it but to retreat into her work once more. With only a week left of her stay, the best she could do was keep her head down and try to be invisible. She desperately wanted to confide in someone, but it was impossible. Antonia was watchful and understanding but, caught between her brother and her best friend, she didn’t pry and Josie couldn’t bear to drag her into the situation. Instead, she spent her time working as far away from Dario’s haunts as she could, but his influence ran deep. Although determined to protect her poor battered heart from any further damage, Josie couldn’t stop thinking about him.
When lack of concentration caused her to chip a second piece off the stonework she was uncovering, she threw her trowel down in disgust. For as long as she was here, Dario was going to dominate her thoughts and distract her from her work. There were only two solutions to that problem, and it was decision time. She could either finish her trip early and go home right now, or she could come to terms with her feelings for Dario.
I’m supposed to be a rational adult, so why can’t I decide and stop drooping about like a love-struck schoolgirl? she asked herself.
The answer to that was all too obvious. She wanted Dario—but she was scared. Giving him so much power over her emotions was a step too far.
If only I could be strong enough to say goodbye … but not just yet …
A desperate remedy swam into her overheated brain. Perhaps she could simply let down her guard long enough to enjoy Dario for a little while longer. Just until the end of her stay at the castello. She could indulge herself for a few more days, but there would be a fixed time limit and they would both know it. She could experience Dario’s charm and incredible lovemaking all over again, but walk away before he broke her heart. No one would have to make promises they couldn’t keep. It would be nothing more than a wonderful footnote to her stay.
Other people have holiday romances all the time and no one dies of disappointment, do they? she reassured herself. Why can’t I, as long as I keep to the rules? If Dario can do it, then so can I. It’s not as though anyone expects a fling to last. That’s all I’ll have to remember.
Having convinced herself, Josie shut out her remaining doubts and packed up her tools. Then she set off to find Dario before she changed her mind.
Dario was in his studio, studying the painting he had been working on. His charcoal sketches hadn’t caught the right mood at all. As an act of desperation, he had tried to commit directly to canvas, hoping to be inspired all over again. But this portrait refused to work well, even after his third attempt. Sighing, he turned away to pick up a turpentine-soaked rag, ready for another try. Then a figure in the doorway caught his eye. He stopped in mid-movement. It was Josie. For a moment, he felt his expression transformed by guilt but managed to turn it into a smile.
‘Come in! This is an unexpected pleasure. I was beginning to think you were avoiding me.’
Josie blushed and hesitated, and he guessed that was exactly what she had been doing. But then he saw her stiffen her resolve—obviously and beautifully. She lifted her he
ad and straightened her shoulders. Then she stepped into the studio, but looking around more warily than she had done on their glorious evening together. He knew that must be because this was his territory—his special place, with its atmosphere thick with the perfume of media in all their forms: linseed oil, paint and new canvas. It was a place he felt safe, but Josie clearly didn’t.
‘Why don’t you come over here and see what I’m working on?’
She walked over to him, but without the self-confident stride she used to approach her own work. When she saw the image he was about to erase, there was a definite hesitation. Although she tried to hide it, he saw her shoulders droop and her mouth turn down. Even half-finished, his work in progress was clearly a beautiful dark-haired young woman.
‘Is this Arietta?’ Her voice hardly disturbed the atmosphere between them.
She must know the answer to that question already, Dario thought. Her gaze was so direct, it made him uncomfortable. He set his jaw and hardened his expression.
‘It was supposed to be her, yes.’ He anticipated her question. ‘I thought she deserved her place in the di Sirena portrait gallery. After all, if things had worked out differently, she would have been my Contessa.’
Josie neither moved nor spoke, so Dario fixed her with a penetrating stare.
‘Aren’t you going to ask me about her?’
‘You’ll tell me if you want to,’ she said quietly. ‘I don’t like talking about my own past. I can hardly expect you to be any different.’
He tipped his head in brief acknowledgement. ‘We met when I was in my final year at university …’ He couldn’t find the words to frame what had happened. How they’d fallen in love almost from the first moment. It had been magical, perfect, unlike anything he’d ever known, until real life began to intrude. Looking back, he wondered how they’d have coped after university, when their idealism would have had to have changed to meet the practicalities of the world. ‘We had a row one evening. Of all the stupid things, it was because I was spending too much time painting and not enough with her. She drove off into a storm. I went after her, but she was determined to get away from me. We were both travelling much too fast. She skidded into a flooded ditch.’
He waited for the usual spasm of pain to pass through his body. It always did when he thought about that terrible evening. Always—until today. He frowned, puzzled. Josie said nothing.
On top of everything else, she’s a good listener! he thought, and tried saying more.
‘She died on the way to hospital.’
‘I’m so sorry, Dario.’
‘Yes.’
She looked surprised at his automatic response, and Dario realised such a quick reply might have sounded heartless.
She’s probably expecting me to sound more traumatised. I used to … but not now …
The revelation came to him easily, but he guessed it would be difficult to live with. He wondered if saying more could distance him from his past still further.
‘It nearly destroyed me,’ he began hesitantly, but there was no need. Telling Josie seemed so right, it felt good to unburden himself rather hold on to the pain. ‘For years, no day passed without my thoughts turning to her. After all, meeting Arietta was a defining moment in my life. After she died, I tried to fill the void she left with partying. It has never worked. Nothing could compare with the simple enjoyment of spending time with a woman who understood me, for better or worse.’
A smile flickered across his face and was gone. ‘But her memory has started to slip away from me. Little by little, day by day I have begun to feel I’m losing her. At first, inheriting the castello and its estate kept me so busy I didn’t have time for memories. Now, when I try to recapture them, she is always retreating from me.’
He stopped. Josie watched him, unblinking. She was only a heartbeat away, and he could tell she was holding her breath. He knew, because he was doing exactly the same thing.
‘I’ve fought it every inch of the way, Josie. I started to paint a portrait of Arietta as I remembered her, but it’s not going well. I’ve worked and worked on this damned painting, but it’s impossible. I can’t catch her.’
He looked at the canvas for a second, then passed a hand quickly over his face to hide the fact that he no longer cared.
Josie couldn’t help herself. She rushed forward and threw her arms around him.
‘Dario, don’t … I’m sure Arietta would hate to think you were unhappy …’
He dropped his hand abruptly. To her relief, she saw his eyes were dry, but their depths were full of a turbulence she had never seen before.
‘How can you possibly know that?’
She let him go and backed away. That reassurance had been forced out of her in a moment of pure panic.
‘I … I’m sorry. I have no idea. How can I? But I’m absolutely certain that she couldn’t bear to think of you being upset and living a half life, full of regret.’
‘That’s exactly what Arietta said to me once, all those years ago.’
He was very still for a moment, and then reached for his wallet. Opening it, he pulled out a small well-worn photograph, which he showed to Josie. Then he held it next to his half-finished painting.
‘Do you see the likeness?’ he asked grimly.
Josie looked from the painting to the photograph, then back again.
‘Well …’ She hesitated, not wanting to say what she really thought.
‘My painting doesn’t look much like the girl in the photograph, does it?’
‘You did say you were working from memory.’
‘Yes. Exactly.’
Dario was staring at the picture with an unfathomable expression. Josie joined him. The photograph of Arietta was in black and white, but his painting was in glorious colour. Josie thought it would be an amazing coincidence for Arietta to have eyes exactly the same shade as her own and, as for that dress—in Dario’s photo it looked white rather than the green shot with gold he had used for his portrait. Josie didn’t know what to say. Something important was happening and she could only wonder what direction it was going to take. Finally, Dario placed the photograph down on the table beside him and turned towards her. To Josie’s relief, he was smiling again.
‘Well, now you’ve seen my problem—what’s yours?’
Josie could hardly remember. A few minutes ago she had been completely absorbed in her own feelings. Now they were almost forgotten in the face of Dario’s problems. They were far worse. He sounded so concerned about her, she could hardly bear to reply.
‘It’s nothing like as serious as the things you’ve been going through, but … to be honest, I’ve felt terrible since your birthday, Dario. I want to clear the air between us. I really did have a wonderful time at your party and … afterwards.’
She faltered, and couldn’t help blushing. Dario grinned conspiratorially, bowing his head at the compliment.
‘… But next morning I felt so awkward, I didn’t know how to react. It was the first time I’ve ever done anything like that. All I knew was that I didn’t want you to think you owed me anything, or that I expected any sort of commitment from you.’
‘You made that perfectly clear at the time. I understood and respected your decision, and still do. I didn’t have any difficulty with it then, or now.’ He picked up the photograph of Arietta and put it carefully away in his wallet again. ‘As far as I’m concerned, everything is fine between us.’
It didn’t feel like that to Josie. She blushed even deeper.
‘No … I know I was sending out mixed messages to you. It was all and then nothing …’ Her voice trailed away. Living each day without Dario had been agony for her, yet he seemed so unmoved! If he didn’t accept what she was about to say, the pain would be unspeakable, yet she knew she had to seize the moment and at least try, otherwise she’d never forgive herself for being a coward. ‘There’s no reason why we can’t be … friends for the rest of my stay. Is there?’ she added hurriedly.
; Dario went absolutely still for a moment, then turned to clear up his brushes and paints. When he replied, his words were slow and considered.
‘Josie, of course I want that. But let’s be absolutely clear—I don’t want any more misunderstandings. There must be no chance of anyone getting hurt by mistake.’
Josie didn’t reply at once, but eventually, she stammered, ‘W … we’re both adults, aren’t we?’
‘All right, then. However, you’ll have to take the lead. I don’t want you to end up regretting anything.’ The words seemed gentle, yet the tension around his jaw gave the impression of a lethal predator, barely held in check.
Josie couldn’t speak, so she simply nodded. Dario turned away from the building tension, and began to scrub his canvas clean. She watched him, strangely relieved that Arietta’s image would soon be erased.
‘What are you going to paint now?’
He stopped to fold the cloth he held into a pad.
‘I haven’t decided yet,’ he responded finally.
‘Then … how about me?’ Her voice was quiet, but clear.
Dario turned slowly towards her and smiled. It was like the sun coming out from behind a cloud that had lingered for far too long.
‘Seriously?’
She hesitated for a moment, then nodded.
‘Then yes—I’d love to do that. And … I think I’d like to paint you wearing the stunning dress you wore at the party. The green silk wrapping that covered my wonderful present,’ he said softly.
Looking out over the beautiful view from his studio window, Josie pretended to think. She couldn’t. Her mind was filled with images of a much more seductive kind than mere landscape.
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