The Sicilian's Proposition

by Rees, Lynette

  Giovanni shrugged. “But you asked me to call on you.”

  Of course. He wanted to know what relationship he’d had with Joanne and also more about Carla and Ponti’s relationship.

  Giovanni drew up a chair by the side of the bed, and Dante summoned a maid to fetch drinks.

  “Sorry, I’m still half asleep.” He yawned and ran his fingers through his messed up hair.

  Giovanni’s eyes showed concern. “So what do you want to know?”

  “I just want the truth about the sort of relationship I had with Joanne?”

  Giovanni exhaled. “Well from what I could tell, you were very close to one another.”

  “We were?”

  “Yes, you seemed sort of intimate. You looked as if you cared about her. I’ve never seen you look as happy as you did when you were with her.”

  Dante rubbed his stubbled chin. “I just don’t remember it, though.”

  “You took her on your boat to Lipari and spent the night there.”

  Of course, she was the woman he’d seen in his mind, so that meant she was the one in the red bikini. She was the one he remembered in the hotel bedroom in Lipari. She was the one who gave him such wild imaginings. Why couldn’t he connect those images filtering through his brain with her?

  “Did something bad happen there?”

  Giovanni nodded, his face taking on a grave look. “Yes. You told me you encountered Ponti at the hotel and there was an exchange of words between you. The following day he was found dead.”

  “Oh no. Did I do something wrong?” He put his head in his hands.

  He feared he had killed the man. After all, he would have known Carla and Ponti were lovers at that point and most likely furious at Carla’s deceit and betrayal.

  Giovanni shook his head. “No, you told me there was an altercation between you. The hotel had footage of it on their security camera. The police found the men concerned, and they’re in custody.”

  Relief flooded through him as he removed his hands from his face. “Ponti and Carla were lovers?”

  Giovanni raised a brow. “You remember that?”

  “Yes, Carla told me in London. I remembered this morning and got my nurse to drive me to his funeral. Carla was there sobbing inconsolably.”

  Giovanni frowned. “I didn’t see either of you.”

  “No, you wouldn’t have. I was at a discreet distance in the car, and Carla was well away from the mourners. Maybe she didn’t want to be seen out of respect for Angelina and the children.”

  “You shouldn’t have got out of bed like that. Your nurse should have…”

  “Believe me, she didn’t want to take me. I demanded she take me.”

  Giovanni laughed. “Good old Dante. Always could command obedience.”

  “I suppose. How is Papa coping with things?”

  “He’s bearing up, it’s not easy for him. All of this after what he went through last year, but we pull together as family, don’t we?”

  “Yes, we do. What other choice do we have? I hate this memory loss thing, though. I want to remember.”

  Giovanni nodded.

  Dante had asked the doctor about his condition before he left the hospital and was informed he had retrograde amnesia, which meant he couldn’t remember things just before the accident. It could have been worse, but he feared the things he couldn’t remember. What had he said and done?

  Poor Joanne, no wonder she had left. It must have been hard on her. He liked her. The more time he had spent with her, the more comfortable he felt, but until he connected with his emotions toward her, he couldn’t get into a relationship.

  He heard the front door of the villa open and slam shut and glanced at his brother.

  Giovanni rose from his chair. “I’ll leave now, Dante. If there’s anything you need, just let me know. You and Carla will have things to talk about.”

  Dante nodded and smiled.

  Carla brushed past Giovanni on his way out without acknowledging him. She sat on the bed next to Dante, her wide eyes blinking. “I’ve been thinking,” she began animatedly, “when you are well, we could go away together for a while, maybe New York or Paris.”

  Dante looked into her eyes; he had to do it and do it right now. “I’m sorry, Carla. I’ve remembered.”

  She frowned. “Remembered what?”

  “That you and Ponti conducted an affair throughout the course of our relationship. You were living a lie.”

  “But I explained all that to you; he seduced me when I was just sixteen.”

  “That may be so, but I followed you today. You hid it from me you would be attending his funeral. What kind of a relationship is that?”

  She tossed back her dark tresses. “I’m sorry, but I didn’t want to hurt you, Dante.”

  “Nevertheless, you hurt me more by hiding it from me, and it hurt me even more when I saw how upset you were. How in love you must have been with the man. For that reason, I am breaking things off with you. I want you out of this villa right now.”

  “But you can’t do that to me. After all we have been through.” Her eyes were shining now. Did she think no one would ever dump her? There was no guilt about this; she had cheated on him with Ponti all the way through their relationship and hurt him when she left him for the man.

  “I can and I have.”

  “But please. I’m sorry for all I have done to you, Dante. Please forgive me.”

  “I’m sorry, Carla, I don’t love you anymore.”

  She collapsed in a heap and sobbed on the pillow next to him, and deep down inside he realized her tears were for another man, not him.

  He caressed her back gently. “Believe me, Carla, this is for the best. You will love again.”

  She might love again, but he realized she would never love another man the way she’d loved Ponti. Within the hour, she had packed her belongings and was out of his home and his life.

  ***

  The leaves on the trees were turning the most beautiful colors of russet, amber, and burnished gold. They crunched beneath Joanne’s feet as she walked along the street. She was off to interview Kel Matthewson’s housekeeper at her little cottage next door to the village pub. Autumn in Sicily was as warm as a British summer, except it had been laden with the fruits of harvest time, the heavy vines ready to make the most exceptional wines. The colors and the fragrances of the island had permeated her senses. If she closed her eyes, she was still there.

  Giovanni had called her last night to check how she was. She asked after Dante, but all he said was he was now back home and recuperating. No mention of his memory, so maybe he was happy with Carla. Perhaps it was all for the best. All she had to remember him by were a few snapshots of their time together at the vineyard, on the boat, and at Lipari. They’d asked a passerby to take a couple of photographs on her mobile phone as they stood near the quay at Lipari. They both looked so happy, it was hard to believe things had turned around in such a short time.

  All her life she’d remember that night at the hotel.

  She took a deep breath and knocked on the cottage door. Time to push all thoughts aside and get on with work.

  By the time she’d finished the interview, it was time to head back to her hotel. Although work was a great placebo for her, as soon as she knocked off for the day, it was back to being on her own and her thoughts once more. Marsha had already gone back to London as Polly needed her for another assignment.

  She laid on the bed and toyed with ringing Dante. But would that be fair? She might put him in an awkward predicament if Carla was around. No, that wasn’t a good thing to do. Anything she wanted to know about Dante, Giovanni could tell her.

  The article about him had gone to press, and she’d managed to get a couple of copies of the magazine from the local newsagent. She spread one open on the bed, surprised that Polly had kept her original title of Dante Alphonso: Dream Maker! It began with the profile of the man and his life and all he’d accomplished for The Children’s Hope and Dream Foundati
on, and then all about the family vineyard, his business in London, and his current affairs. Whatever she might think of Jackson Byrne, she had to admit he’d taken some terrific photographs. She trailed her fingers over the page outlining Dante’s jawline, imagining the man behind the smile. She was well-pleased with this.

  There was no muck thrown at him in this article. It was an honest interpretation of the man, his life, and his work.

  Tomorrow she would mail the copies to him. She hoped he’d be as thrilled with it as she was.

  ***

  Dante was finally allowed to sit in a chair. At least it gave him some sense of normality. He’d requested the nurse bring his laptop for his work, but she refused, saying it was, doctor’s orders. He couldn’t blame her. He’d put her in a difficult position making her take him out yesterday, so for now he would obey.

  The house echoed without Carla’s presence, but at least she was gone for good. Out of his life forever. Well if he couldn’t work, at least he could listen to some music. He switched on his iPod and played some tracks at random. It was quite relaxing.

  Most were swing tracks; they always took him back to his childhood. Mamma and Papa loved music, the records were often played at home. His father would take Dante’s mother in his arms, and they’d dance around the courtyard. The familiar music transported him back to another time and place.

  Instead of remembering his mother and father dancing close together, he was picturing himself with a woman, and it wasn’t Carla. It was Joanne!

  He was looking down at her shiny eyes, feeling her warmth in his arms, inhaling her sweet perfume. He remembered now how special that moment had been, and how he longed to kiss her but broke away at the last moment. They were on the balcony of his hotel suite just as she described. Images flashed through his mind. The boat, she’d been going under the water, and he rescued her. She was so vulnerable and told him about her father drowning. No wonder she got so distressed and he needed to soothe her. They moored the boat at Lipari and then shared a wonderful meal together, followed by the sensational lovemaking at the hotel afterward, and then he told her he loved her.

  Oh, what must she think of him? She must have been so hurt because he thought she was just another journalist. And what about him moving Carla into the villa?

  Now Joanne had left Sicily. Maybe she never wanted to see him again.

  It was her he loved and he had to find her as soon as possible.

  Chapter Twelve

  Dante stood gazing out of the hospital window.

  “I’m afraid you can’t travel just yet, Signor Alphonso. You’re not well enough, and you might jeopardize your recovery…”

  Dante turned to look at the doctor. It wasn’t what he wanted to hear. “But I’m up and about now, I can walk. I can do everything I did before the accident. How about if my nurse accompanies me to England?”

  The doctor shook his head. “Please sit down.” Dante did as requested and looked into the old doctor’s rheumy eyes as they expressed concern. The doctor steepled his fingers. “I’ve been a brain specialist for many years. If you take that trip right now, it could set back the progress you’ve made.”

  Disappointment seeped inside him, but he respected the doctor enough to realize he was right. “I see.”

  “Some people report that flying following a head injury can cause symptoms such as painful headaches, fatigue, and nausea. These can occur due to changes in pressure and less oxygen in circulation in the aircraft. Don’t worry, I’ll let you know as soon as you’re fit for travel. The good news is, you are making excellent progress and your memory is returning.”

  Dante nodded. The doctor was right of course, he was trying to run before he could walk. Besides, he needed to check Angelina and the children were okay before he went anywhere. Memories of her distress at discovering her husband had been killed were starting to emerge along with the feelings of disgust he had for the man and his lifestyle.

  His chauffeur was waiting outside when he left the hospital. He asked Bruno to drive to Angelina’s home, feeling a pang of guilt for not being around to help with the funeral plans as promised, but he could make it up to her now.

  When he arrived at the house, she was pleased to see him, though he could tell by the dark rings beneath her eyes and pale skin, she hadn’t slept well. The children had gone to school.

  She brought him a cup of espresso and sat opposite him in the neat, spacious villa Ponti had funded with the profits of his racketeering. The marbled columns and expensive ornaments and artwork were a testament to the blood money he siphoned from his victims. It left a bitter taste in his mouth.

  “How are you feeling?” she asked. Her eyes now misted with unshed tears. She inhaled deeply to hold them back.

  “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” He flashed a smile.

  She brushed back a lock of her hair behind her ear and then stirred her coffee. “I’m fine. Honestly, Dante. I should have taken your advice years ago. Then I wouldn’t be in this predicament.”

  “Maybe not, but then you wouldn’t have your three beautiful children.”

  “I suppose.”

  He hated seeing her like this, so downcast and defeated. “What are you going to do now?”

  She exhaled. “Well, Ponti’s associates have offered to help me out.”

  “No way. Not while I have any breath in my body, Angelina. They might help you for life as part of the family, but it’s not what I want for my sister and her children. I will help you.”

  She bit her lip and then nodded. “I might get myself a job. I’ve been a kept woman for too long.”

  Dante smiled. “Maybe. Now it is time to take charge of your life. Perhaps you would consider working for the Sicilian branch of the foundation?”

  Her eyes lit up. “Yes, I’d appreciate that, thank you.”

  It was a way for her to give back, and now that Ponti was out of her life, it was time to reclaim it, but first she needed time to grieve her loss.

  ***

  Joanne slipped both glossy magazines into a large buff-colored envelope and took it to the post office. She had deliberated whether to include a letter or not but decided against it in case Carla should get the wrong idea. So instead she’d written a simple note:

  Here’s the printed article, Dante. I think you’ll find it paints you in a good light. Wishing you a speedy recovery. J.

  There was nothing to dislike about that, and as she handed the package over to the counter clerk, she was suffused with sadness that without a miracle, this would be her last ever contact with the man.

  Now Sicily was a distant dream. She’d kept in touch with Giovanni, who had assured her Dante was making good progress, but she hadn’t poked her nose into his relationship with Carla, and Giovanni hadn’t offered any information to her, either.

  She spent the next few days keeping busy with work and enrolled in a fitness class at the local leisure center, which she attended most evenings after work. By the time she got home afterward and had something to eat, there was little time to think of anything else.

  One morning she awoke to a ping from her mobile phone by the side of the bed. Her blurry eyes tried to focus on the phone’s screen. She blinked several times before reading:

  Thanks for the magazines, Joanne. You did a great job. It was well-written and I am so pleased! J

  Dante. She hugged herself, happy she had pleased him. For a second she hesitated before firing off a text. She visualized Carla lying next to him in bed. What would she think? Would it cause problems between them? But then again, she was only responding to a simple text about her article. She replied:

  Glad it meets with your approval. I trust you are feeling better?

  She waited several minutes, her eyes constantly drawn to the mobile phone on her bedside table, but felt a little deflated when no reply came. She got out of bed ready to shower and dress for the day ahead.

  Why did she feel so disappointed he hadn’t replied?

  Because
you love him, that’s why…a little voice in her head reminded her. Her eyes pricked with tears, and she swallowed a lump in her throat that threatened to choke her. Why did things have to be like this? And why, when she found someone she cared for and trusted, did she lose him again by a fluke of fate?

  ***

  “Dante, you’re all smiles today.” Giovanni patted his brother’s back as he came to visit him at the villa.

  Dante grinned. “Yes and I have every right to be. The doctor has told me it’s now safe for me to travel. I’m going to England soon.”

  “That’s really good news, but will you see Joanne when you are over there?”

  “Of course, she’s the main reason I’m going. I intend winning her back.”

  “I’m pleased for you, brother. Follow your heart, she’s a good woman.”

  “I know and I can only try to win her back. The rest is up to her.”

  The truth was he wasn’t sure how she would receive the news he remembered her, recollected his love and wished to express it once more. Maybe she already moved on and was now with someone else? Or maybe she just wouldn’t be interested anymore.

  It was a chance he had to take.

  ***

  “Earth calling Joanne!” Joanne looked up from her desk into the shining eyes of her editor. “You’ve been in a trance all morning.”

  Joanne shifted about in her chair and bit her lip, deliberating whether to tell Polly about the text message, that Dante had made contact with her at last. But maybe she’d laugh. “Sorry. I need to concentrate, don’t I?”

  “Come on, Joanne, this is me you’re talking to. What’s going on?”

  “I received a text from Dante this morning, thanking me for the article.”

  “And?”

  Joanne shrugged. “And nothing. I texted him back, but no reply.”

  “Well I suppose at least he’s made contact with you,” Polly said, her voice softening.

  Joanne frowned. “What am I thinking of, though? I’m clutching at straws, aren’t I? Hanging on to the least little thread of hope. It’s crazy.”