Her eyes widened. “Titian?” She bent closer to the painting and gazed at the master’s signature. “No wonder it’s so magnificent.”
“But you would have admired it anyway, even with no signature, hmm? Because it is old?”
“Of course. There’s something special about things that come to us over the centuries.” She swung toward him. He was watching her with a strange look on his face, half amusement, half something else, and she felt herself bristle. “That probably sounds simpleminded to you, considering that you live surrounded by such things, but—”
“No, not at all. It’s just that I’m surprised to hear you make such an admission—”
“Considering that I’m American?”
His brows lifted. “Considering that you are a woman of this century,” he said mildly. “We are a throwaway society, Caroline. It is one of the hallmarks of our time.”
“Perhaps. But that doesn’t mean everyone’s like that.” She smiled coolly at him. “Measuring people—using worn-out clichés to categorize them—is a dangerous habit.”
“Perhaps it is a habit we share, this business of vaulting to easy conclusions.”
“Jumping.” She couldn’t help smiling. “You jump to conclusions.”
He smiled back at her. “I still have some problems with the idioms,” he said. “They are difficult.” They stood looking at each other, and then he cleared his throat. “So. What did you and my grandmother talk about?”
Caroline shrugged her shoulders. “This and that. She wanted to know what’s new in New York City—”
“And you told her.”
“As best I could. I’m not an expert—I’ve only lived there for a couple of years.”
“Ah. And you went to New York to seek your fortune, yes?”
She stiffened. “Not everyone is born rich. I moved there because I had to find a way to support myself.”
“And you did.”
Caroline’s eyes flew to his. He was still smiling politely, but there was a hint of disdain in his tone.
“We were talking about your grandmother,” she said coldly.
Nicolo exhaled sharply. “Yes. So we were. I am pleased that your visit seems to have done her so much good.”
“Why does she call me Arianna?”
She could see his back stiffen. “I suppose because she is old and gets confused from time to time.”
“I didn’t mean that, exactly. I meant—who is Arianna?”
There was a silence before he answered.
“Arianna was—is—a distant cousin. She lived here, in the palazzo, after her parents died.”
“She’s a child, then?”
He gave a short, bitter laugh. “She was a child when she came to us. But she grew up. Oh yes, she grew up, into a beautiful, spoiled young woman.”
“And?” Caroline said, after a moment.
Nicolo shrugged. “And she left us.”
Us, he’d said. Us. But that wasn’t the truth, Caroline thought. Arianna had left him.
“But—but why?”
“Who knows? She seemed content, at first, but then, as time passed…” He grimaced. “She craved a different sort of life. Excitement. Independence. She found life under this roof too restrictive. I had certain rules, certain expectations…”
Caroline’s breath caught. He’d been in love with Arianna, you could hear it in his voice. And Arianna had been in love with him, or at least, she’d thought she was, until he’d begun taking over her life.
It was easy enough to imagine how it had gone. The girl hadn’t been born into this archaic world; she hadn’t been prepared for a lover who was demanding and possessive, as Nicolo must have been. What modern woman would? He’d have wished to own her, body and soul, to possess her. He’d have expected her to wait hungrily for his kisses and his caresses, to come to life when he whispered her name…
“Caroline?”
She swung around, startled, her eyes wide and unseeing. Nicolo was standing so close, so close…
The empty glass fell from her hand and shattered on the floor.
“Oh!” She knelt quickly and began scooping up the shards. “I’m sorry!”
“It’s not important.” He bent, clasped her wrist, and drew her up beside him. “Caroline—”
She twisted free of his hand. “You said you’d have a room prepared for me, Nicolo. I—I’m tired. I’d like to go there now, and rest.”
“I want to talk to you first, about leaving here tomorrow.”
“Yes.” Why was she so breathless? She took a step back. “You’re right, we need to discuss that. I should have told you, we have to leave very early, so that—”
“So that you can keep your liaison with Paolo?” Nicolo said silkily.
“Paolo?” She stared at him, confused for the moment, and then she remembered. “Paolo,” she repeated. “Yes. I wouldn’t miss that—that liaison for the world. That’s why we have to leave at six o’clock sharp, and—”
“No.”
“What do you mean, no?”
His smile was as pleasant as his tone. “We are not leaving at six.”
“Oh, but we are!” She flung her hands on her hips. “My appointment with Paolo is—”
“Is for a photo shoot.”
She stared at him. “How—how did you—”
His lips turned up in a self-satisfied smile. “Silvio told me,” he said. He strolled to the sideboard, refilled his glass, and poured sherry into a fresh glass for her.
“When? This morning?” Her mouth tightened. “You mean, you knew all along, but you let me make a fool of myself?”
Nicolo turned and held out the glass. “I spoke with Silvio less than an hour ago, Caroline.”
“He phoned? Well, I hope you explained that I’ll be in Milan in plenty of time for the shoot, because—”
“I told him you would not be returning to Milano for a few days.”
Caroline gaped at him. “What do you mean, not returning?” She strode toward him. “I agreed to stay until the morning. Hell, I didn’t actually agree to anything. You forced the issue. You—”
“I was wrong.”
Her mouth dropped open. Was this an apology?
“What I should have done,” he said smoothly, as he pressed the glass into her hand, “was tell you that you would not be returning to Milano at all.”
CHAPTER SIX
NICOLO’S WORDS seemed to hang in the silence that suddenly enveloped the room. Caroline stared at him, waiting for him to smile, to give some hint that he’d made a joke she’d simply not understood, but he only went on looking at her, his face as cool and composed as if he’d done nothing more than offer to top up her sherry.
Her mouth thinned. So much for the niceties, then. In a way, it was a relief. She’d known what sort of man he was from the start. He’d been more clever than the rest, luring her with an ill grandmother rather than with promises of extravagance, but now the truth was out. His talk about not wanting her had been nonsense, stuff handed out by a man salvaging a bruised ego.
Carefully, holding her temper under tight control, Caroline walked to a small parquet table and put down her glass.
“Please give your grandmother my regrets.” Her voice was strong and steady; it gave no hint of her anger. “Tell her—tell her I’m sorry, but I had to leave suddenly, that I was called away…” She looked at him, at that still cool expression, and her control faltered. “Tell her any damned thing you like,” she said on a rising note, “except for the truth. She’s far too nice a woman to—”
“Where do you think you’re going, Caroline?”
“Back to Milan,” she snapped as she stalked to the door. “At least there, I know what I’m dealing with!”
“Caroline. You are being ridiculous!”
“Arrivederci, Your Highness. As I said in Silvio’s office, don’t think it hasn’t been interesting, because—”
“Idiota!” Footsteps pounded after her. She reached for the door and star
ted to pull it open, but Nicolo’s hand closed around her forearm. He spun her toward him, slammed the door shut, and thrust his face into hers. “Must you always be such a little fool?”
“Open that door!”
“I will. When it suits me.”
“Open it, or so help me, I’ll—”
“I tell you, you are behaving foolishly. Your imagination is working overtime.”
Caroline glared at him. “That’s a laugh! You’re the one with the busy imagination! How you could even imagine that I’d—that I’d ever—?”
He smiled when she began to sputter, showing even white teeth against his tanned skin.
“Yes?” He let go of her, leaned back against the door, and folded his arms over his chest. “Don’t tell me you’ve run out of words, cara. I’d be disappointed.”
“What I’ve run out of are words that would describe a man like you without—without blistering the paint on these walls!” Her jaw tightened. “And don’t call me that. I am not your—your dear, or whatever that silly word means.”