again. ‘It doesn’t matter.’ Breathing out slowly, he picked up his shirt and slid his arms into it. ‘You can tell Lisi she was right, though. She is volatile.’
‘That’s the impression I was given, sir.’ Giorgio nodded, a look of relief sliding over his face. ‘That’s why I think we should cut our losses and walk away before...’ He glanced furtively across at his boss, who was buttoning up his shirt with swift precision. ‘Before this gets any more out of hand.’
Massimo whirled towards him. ‘Walk away?’ Snatching up his jacket, he shrugged it on carelessly, his voice colder than marble. ‘Oh, I’ve got no intention of walking away, Giorgio. Not before I’ve taught Miss Golding a long and clearly overdue lesson in manners. Come with me.’
He turned and began to walk swiftly in the direction that Flora had just taken. Ducking under the archway, both men came to an abrupt stop as they emerged onto a neatly trimmed grass lawn. Across the lawn a high yew hedge rose out of the ground, in the centre of which was another archway. There was no sign of Flora—
‘This is getting ridiculous,’ Massimo muttered. ‘How many gardens does one palazzo need?’
They crossed the lawn and stopped in front of the archway. It wasn’t a garden.
‘It’s a maze!’ Giorgio gazed uncertainly at a small rusting sign. He looked up at his boss, his expression a mixture of astonishment and dismay. ‘Do you think she’s in there?’
Massimo scowled. Of course she was in there. No doubt laughing her pretty little head off at their expense.
He sighed. ‘I should have ripped the damned house down with her in it. I know I said this before, but I’m going to sort this out once and for all and then I’ll be back. And this time I really won’t be long. After all, how difficult can it be to find her?’
The answer to that question was really difficult, he decided some twenty minutes later, after he’d turned yet another corner to find yet another dead end. With a groan of frustration, he ran his hands through his hair and cursed Flora loudly.
‘I may not be a lady, but even I wouldn’t use words like that!’
His body froze as her voice, fizzing with malice, cut sharply through his tirade.
‘What’s the matter, Mr Sforza? Don’t you like hide and seek? I thought you liked playing games “as much as the next man”.’
He spun round, his gaze boring into the thick, dark leaves. ‘Oh, very funny. This is very amusing, I’m sure. But you can’t hide from me for ever!’
‘Probably not! But I’ve got a funny feeling that after an hour...’ she paused, and sighed elaborately ‘...or four spent wandering around in here, you might just want to go home. If a bullying, greedy monster like you actually has a home.’
He gritted his teeth and then his pupils flared as from somewhere behind the high green hedge, he heard a twig snap. Gotcha! Slowly, with delicate steps, his heart hammering with excitement, he crept towards the end of the path and stepped swiftly around the corner. But there was no one there.
‘You might as well give up and go home.’
Her voice floated through the foliage, the crisp, cool words acting like salt on his wounded pride. And yet despite his irritation part of him was enjoying this game they were playing.
His mouth curved into an almost-smile. ‘If you knew me better, cara, you’d know that I never give up or give in.’
‘Thankfully I will never know you at all. Anyway, carry on looking if you want, but I should warn you there’s over a thousand metres of paths and only one of them will take you to the centre. Still...happy hunting!’
Massimo glanced up at the sky, and his breathing slowed. She was going to pay for this. And a lot sooner than she thought. Reaching into his trouser pocket, he pulled out his mobile phone and punched in a number.
Flora stared up at the thick, yew bushes and felt a surge of satisfaction. The maze had been designed by Umberto and had a particularly fiendish layout. Massimo Sforza would be stuck wandering around between its high, impenetrable hedges hopefully until the sun set. She smiled happily. Which should give him ample time to ponder the ethics of harassment and bribery.
Her smile faded. His casual, unfounded assumption that her reason for staying at the palazzo was to squeeze more money out of him and his stupid company made her skin tighten with anger.
If only there was some way to get rid of him for good. But like most rich, powerful men, he was used to getting his own way.
She felt suddenly tired. Was it so much to ask to keep her home? But it was always the same. Even reasonable, well-adjusted men seemed to assume that a woman could and should change her life to fit in with their plans.
Remembering James’s angry disbelief when she’d refused to upend her life for his, she felt an ache spread inside of her. And it had been the same with Thomas too. He’d been bewildered and then furious with her for pursuing her own goals instead of supporting him.
Her lip trembled. Then of course there was her dad and her brother, Freddie. They’d always been protective but since her mother’s death, they’d treated her like she was a child; an adorable but foolish child who needed protecting from herself.
Still, at least they loved her and cared about her. Massimo Sforza, on the other hand, only cared about himself. But just because he was rich and used to getting his own way didn’t mean she should give up her home so he could turn it into a stupid hotel.
She shivered. The stone bench on which she’d taken refuge was cold, and even though the sun was gleaming like a huge pearl in the flawless blue sky the seven-foot hedges meant that little of its heat was reaching her.
Damn Gianni! It was all his fault. If only Umberto hadn’t left him the estate. And if only his feckless, greedy brother hadn’t sold it on as soon as the deeds were in his hands, she wouldn’t be here, hiding like a criminal on the run.
A twig cracked nearby, and she froze momentarily—then relaxed. It was probably just a lizard or a bird. Massimo Sforza might be rich and powerful but he’d need x-ray vision or wings to find her in here.
Her head jerked up abruptly. Above her, a Marsh harrier gave a shrill screech and, frowning, she slid off the bench, a shiver of apprehension scuttling down her spine. It might have been muted by the hedges, but it had definitely been a warning call. But before she could even ponder as to what might have caused the bird’s alarm she heard a faint droning noise, and then a shadow fell across her upturned face and the droning become a loud rhythmic ‘whumping’.
Open-mouthed, Flora stared up in astonishment at a large, sleek white helicopter. Where had it come from? And then she gave a sudden cry of rage. Sforza! It had to be. She’d assumed he’d driven to the palazzo, but who else would have such a showy boy’s toy? She must have been swimming under the water in the pond when he’d flown over—
There was a crunch of footsteps on gravel behind her, and her heart leaping in her chest, she turned, knowing before she did so that it would be him.
‘Thanks, Paolo. Yeah, I think I can find my way out. But I’ll call you if I need your help.’ Massimo clicked off his phone and examined her face, his eyes glittering with malice. ‘So. We meet again.’ He glanced at his watch and frowned. ‘Not quite fifteen minutes!’
‘Only because you cheated!’ Hands curling into fists, Flora stepped backwards. Her calves collided painfully with the stone bench, but it was nothing compared to the injuries she would inflict on Massimo if she stood too close to him.
He shook his head. ‘You’re not going to have a tantrum about losing, are you, cara? I told you—I don’t give up and I don’t give in. And, besides, I hate waiting.’
She shivered as his face shifted, grew harder and colder than the marble bench pressing against her legs.
‘And I never, ever lose.’