hope,’ he said softly. The wicked glint in his eyes sent a quiver of anticipation through her and she wished they could finish dinner quickly and return to the hotel. Their luxury suite included a hot tub, and the memory of how he had made love to her in the water last night had lingered in her mind all day.
‘Thank you for bringing me here,’ she said softly. ‘Florence is a wonderful city, and I’ll always remember this trip.’
‘I’m glad you’ve enjoyed it. Maybe we’ll come back another time,’ he said casually. ‘I often spend a week or two in Tuscany in the autumn.’
Rebekah did not remind him that she would no longer be working for him then.
‘You’ve gone very quiet.’ Dante’s voice interrupted her bleak thoughts. ‘Is anything wrong?’
‘I’m worried about my grandmother,’ she replied, not entirely untruthfully. When she had phoned home the previous day her mother had told her that Nana had suffered a fall. Fortunately, she hadn’t been seriously hurt, but her increasing frailty was a concern. ‘When we leave Tuscany at the end of the week I intend to go straight to Wales to spend some time with her.’
‘I’ll arrange for you to fly there on the jet as soon as we arrive in England. I imagine you will want to stay with your family for a few days.’ His grey eyes sought hers across the table. ‘After that, why don’t you come back to London?’
Rebekah stared at him, wishing she could read his mind. Was he asking her to continue working for him, or was there another reason for his invitation? If he asked her to carry on their affair she would have to refuse, she told herself firmly. His interest in her would last for a few months at most. But while he would simply move on to another affair, she feared she would be left with a broken heart.
‘We made an agreement that I would leave you when I had served my notice, and nothing has changed.’
‘Of course it has,’ he replied imperturbably. ‘We’re good together, mia bella.’ He gave a laconic shrug. ‘Why change what is good?’
Because, for Dante, what they had amounted to great sex, while for her … Rebekah swallowed when he reached across the table and captured her hand, lifted it to his mouth and grazed his lips across her fingers.
‘Let’s go back to the hotel and I’ll show you how you make me feel,’ he murmured huskily.
There had been no point in continuing the argument, she thought when they left the restaurant and strolled hand in hand through the quaint narrow streets of Florence. They arrived at their hotel and, as soon as they stepped into the lift and the doors closed, Dante pulled her into his arms and kissed her so thoroughly that she stopped worrying about the future and focused on the sensuous anticipation of knowing that they would soon be enjoying the pleasure of making love once more.
In the bedroom he undressed her by the light of the silver moon and the diamond-bright stars that were visible through the open curtains.
‘Sei così bella,’ he whispered as he drew the jade silk dress down and cradled her voluptuous breasts in his palms. He kissed her mouth, her throat and breasts before he sank to his knees and explored the heart of her femininity with his tongue.
Then he stood and she stripped him with trembling hands. Dropping to her knees, she gifted him the same pleasure he had given her, caressing him with her tongue until he groaned and pulled her to her feet.
‘Wrap your legs around me,’ he bade as he lifted her and held her against his hips. When she complied, he entered her and she cried out with the joy of his possession. The world disappeared and only she and Dante existed. He made love to her with a passion and an exquisite tenderness that captivated her soul and brought tears to her eyes.
As for Dante, lying with Rebekah in the sweet aftermath of their mutual pleasure, he wondered why she was insisting that she intended to leave him when it was quite clear she did not want to go. Surely she realised how much he desired her? Perhaps she was afraid that if she continued their relationship she could end up getting hurt, he brooded. Knowing how her ex-fiancé had betrayed her, he could not blame her for being wary.
Turning his head, he saw that she had fallen asleep and he felt a curious little tug on his insides as he studied her rose-flushed face and long dark eyelashes that curled on her cheeks. She was so beautiful—a beguiling mix of sex kitten and gut-wrenchingly generous lover.
He did not want to lose her, he acknowledged. So did that mean he was prepared to make some sort of commitment to her? He gave a sigh of frustration. If only they could remain in Tuscany in the private little world they had created. There would be no reason for them to discuss their relationship and he could simply enjoy being with her. But that, he realised heavily, was a coward’s attitude. At some point he was going to have to come to terms with his past because he understood now that holding on to his bitter memories was preventing him from moving on with his life.
The storm broke two days after they returned to the Casa di Colombe. Ominous clouds had gathered over the distant hills and the air prickled with static electricity.
The strange tension seemed to reflect Dante’s mood, Rebekah thought as she pegged the washing on the line, hoping it would dry before the rain fell. He had been behaving oddly ever since she had mentioned on the drive back from Florence that Nicole had told her he had once lived in New York. For some reason he had stiffened and muttered that it had been years ago.
She should have let the matter drop, but her curiosity to know as many details about him as she could had prompted her to ask him about Lara.
‘She was someone I met in the States,’ Dante had said tersely. ‘I don’t know why Nicole had to drag up the past.’
‘Was she a girlfriend?’ Rebekah could not help asking.
‘What does it matter who she was? I told you, I knew her years ago.’ He had given a careless shrug, but Rebekah had wondered why he had tightened his hands on the steering wheel until his knuckles had turned white. Realising that her prying had annoyed him, she had tried to make light conversation for the rest of the journey, but his responses had been monosyllabic. And that night, for the first time since they had been in Tuscany, he had not made love to her, but rolled onto his side, saying coolly that she was no doubt tired after their trip and she should get some sleep.
Maybe he was becoming bored of her, she thought bleakly as she walked back into the house. Maybe he was glad that they would be leaving Tuscany in a few short days, while she was dreading saying goodbye to him for ever. She was almost glad he had asked her to sort out his grandmother’s room. At least being busy stopped her from thinking about next Saturday, when they were due to leave.
Perlita’s personal belongings had not been touched since her death and Dante had requested Rebekah to empty the wardrobes and pack up his grandmother’s clothes so that they could be sent to a charity shop.
He walked in while she was pulling out boxes from beneath the bed. One storage chest contained old curtains but the contents of the second box were puzzling.
‘Children’s clothes,’ she said in surprise, ‘for a baby or toddler, I should think, from the size of them. And I guess, as they’re mainly blue, that they belong to a little boy. Oh, there’s a photo of a child …’ She reached into the box, but Dante leaned over her and snatched the picture out of her hand before she could study it properly.
‘Don’t touch anything in the box,’ he ordered curtly. ‘Shut the lid and leave it alone. In fact, you can leave the room. I’ll take over packing up my grandmother’s things.’
‘All right—keep your hair on!’ Rebekah sprang to her feet, but her irritation at being spoken to in such a peremptory tone faded when she saw Dante’s unguarded expression. It was the same agonised look she’d glimpsed in his eyes when he had shown her the photograph of his grandmother the day they had arrived at the house, nearly a month ago. She had sensed his grief at Perlita’s death was still raw. But why did he look devastated as he dropped to his knees in front of the box and lifted out a child’s