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Taming the Notorious Sicilian

Page 25

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Surely he should be delighted she was starting to see through the layers to the real man inside. So why did he feel more unsettled than ever?

‘Believe me, Dr Chapman,’ he said, putting deliberate emphasis on her title, ‘I am well aware that beneath your haphazard appearance is a woman.’

A smile flitted over her face, not the beaming spark of joy he was becoming accustomed to but a smile that could almost be described as shy. Bright spots of colour stained her cheeks.

Shoving his hands in his pockets lest they did something stupid like reach out for her again, Francesco inclined his head to the left. ‘If you head in that direction you will go through several living rooms before you reach the indoor pool, which you are welcome to use, although you might prefer the outside one. If you go through the door on the other side of the pool you’ll find the kitchen. If you’re hungry my chef will cook something for you, but I would suggest you keep it light as we will be dining in the casino.’

‘We’re eating out?’

‘Yes. I’ll show you to the room you will be sleeping in whilst you’re here as my guest.’

‘Which is only until tomorrow,’ Hannah stated amiably, biting back the question of whether it would be his room she would be sleeping in, already knowing the answer.

Francesco’s villa was a thing of beauty, a huge white palace cleverly cut into the rocks of the hillside. Walking up the steps to his home, the scent of perfumed flowers and lemons had filled her senses so strongly she would have been happy to simply stand there and enjoy. If she hadn’t been so keen to see Francesco, she would have done.

She’d been aware he possessed great wealth, but even so...

It felt as if she’d slipped through the looking glass and landed in a parallel universe.

She followed him through huge white arches, over brightly coloured tiled flooring, past exotic furniture, and up a winding stone staircase to a long, uneven corridor.

‘Was this once a cave?’ she asked.

He laughed. Francesco actually laughed. It might not have been a great big boom echoing off the high ceilings, more of a low chuckle, but it was a start and it made her heart flip.

‘Its original history is a bit of a mystery,’ he said, opening a door at the end of the corridor. ‘This is your room.’

Hannah clamped a hand over her mouth to stop the squeal that wanted to make itself heard. Slowly she drank it all in: the four-poster bed, the vibrant colours, the private balcony overlooking the outdoor pool...

‘Wow,’ she said when she felt capable of speaking without sounding like a giddy schoolgirl. ‘If I didn’t have to get back to work on Monday, I’d be tempted to claim squatters’ rights.’

‘You’re still trusting I will get you back to London in time?’

She rolled her eyes in answer.

‘Let us hope your faith in me is justified.’

‘If I turn out to be wrong then no worries—I’ll get my own flight back.’

‘And what about your passport? You will need that to leave the country.’

‘My passport’s in my bag.’

‘You are sure about that?’ At her puzzled expression, Francesco leaned over and whispered into her ear, ‘A word of advice, Dr Chapman—when in the company of criminals, never leave your bag open with your passport and phone in it.’

With that, he strolled to the door, patting his back pocket for emphasis. ‘Be ready to leave in two hours.’

Hannah watched him close the door before diving into her handbag.

Unbelievable! In the short time she’d been in his home, Francesco had deftly removed her passport and mobile and she hadn’t noticed a thing.

She should be furious. She should be a lot of things. He had her passport—effectively had her trapped in his country—but it was her phone she felt a pang of anxiety over.

She had to give him points for continuing to try to make her see the worst in him, but there was no way in the world he would keep hold of her stuff. She had no doubt that, come the morning, he would return the items to her.

The morning...

Before the morning came the night.

And a shiver zipped up her spine at the thought of what that night could bring.

* * *

Francesco sat on his sprawling sofa catching up on the day’s qualifying event for one of the many motor racing sports he followed, when he heard movement behind the archway dividing the living room from the library.

Sitting upright, he craned his neck to see better.

He caught a flash of blue that vanished before reappearing with a body attached to it. Hannah’s body.



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