Alicia’s mouth was grim, her face starkly pale. ‘And with me close by your side, you’ll be able to monitor my sister, make sure she isn’t stealing the family silver.’
He smiled then and it wasn’t friendly as he thought,
Exactly—you and your scheming sister won’t make a move I’m not aware of.
‘Cara, my family didn’t have any silver to steal, anything that’s there has been hard won and paid for.’
His comment made Alicia’s churning thoughts stop. What did he mean? And then she shook her head. She didn’t care what he meant.
He was pulling his jacket from the couch and slipping it on with lithe grace. He walked to the door in a couple of long strides. ‘I have some business to attend to in my office in London. I’ll be back this evening, early. And I plan to leave tonight for Milan, returning to Lake Como tomorrow. If you decide you are going to come with me, have your bags packed and ready.’ He looked at her clothes again. ‘Actually, you don’t need to pack, just bring yourself. We’ll have to get you a decent wardrobe.’
Alicia opened her mouth in affront but, before she could say a word, he was continuing.
‘I’ll be outside here at seven p.m., I won’t bother knocking. I’ll wait for five minutes. That’s it. It’s up to you if you want to risk saying no.’
And, without
a backward glance, he opened the door, shut it behind him and he was gone.
CHAPTER SIX
THAT EVENING ALICIA stood with a small holdall in one hand, the other on the lock of her front door. She could hear the idling purring engine of the car outside. It had, exactly as Dante had said, pulled up at precisely seven p.m. He irritated her with his attention to detail, his punctuality, his coolness. His expectation. The clock was ticking; she could hear it on the mantel.
Desperation clawed at her insides. She wanted to turn back the clock, drop her bag, dive under the covers of her bed and shut the world out. Shut Dante D’Aquanni out. But earlier that day she’d gone into the hospital and seeing Melanie and Paolo so happy, so delighted, so together, full of plans for moving into town … her escape route had been cut off, her fate decided. For the first time in her life, Melanie didn’t need her and that isolated, rudderless feeling had swamped her again.
This was it. Her impulsive, over-protective actions had created this scenario. She really could not risk Melanie being subjected to Dante’s censure or cynical disbelief. So she took a deep breath, turned the catch and pulled open the door. The sleek, dark car’s engine revved for a second and Alicia panicked—was she too late? But then the revs fell again. A door was pushed open from the inside. The driver stepped out and Alicia could make out the outline of a dark shape in the back. She shivered and moved forward.
Dante had had to restrain himself from springing from the car. Five minutes had passed. He’d been sure she wasn’t coming. Incensed beyond belief that a woman could be making him feel as if he were dangling on a string, he’d tersely instructed the driver to go. But. Then the door had opened and a feeling had flooded his entire body. A feeling he didn’t want to acknowlege. When Alicia slipped into the seat beside him, she looked like a pale wraith. A waif. Still the shapeless clothes, still the pulled back hair. Irritation prickled across his skin.
‘You’ve made the right decision.’
‘As if I had a choice.’ The door closed behind her shutting them into the confined intimate space. Darkness. Dante forced himself to relax. Taking his eyes away from her with more of an effort than he liked to admit, he looked out of the window as the car moved out of the estate and into the traffic.
‘So how is this going to work, exactly?’
As his plane cruised above the English countryside, leaving it behind, Dante looked across at Alicia.
‘We will stay in Milan tonight. I’ve booked you an appointment at a boutique there in the morning; we don’t have much time to get you fitted and dressed. And made over. The guests arrive at the villa in three days.’
Alicia’s spine straightened, her pride back with a vengeance. ‘As you are aware I can’t afford to buy myself an entire wardrobe. I must insist that you at least buy off-the-peg clothes. It would take me years to repay you for the designer wardrobe you seem to be insisting on.’
She looked unbelievably proud, like a tiny regal princess. Dante felt something move in his chest. He thrust it back down—back into the seething mass of twisted feelings and desire this woman aroused.
‘Don’t worry about the cost.’
‘But I do, I will; it’s an unnecessary expense.’
‘It’s not.’ His eyes moved over her body with heated appraisal; she could feel her insides grow warm.
‘As my partner, you will be expected to maintain a certain standard.’
Alicia wrestled with the poisonous memory of that brunette on the steps of the hotel—she was a woman in every sense of the word. And, as she processed what he was saying, she couldn’t stop a look of disgust flashing across her face. She could just imagine the designer get-ups he’d expect to see her in. Dante saw her expression and it surprised him. He’d never had to justify wanting to buy a woman clothes before.
‘A friend of mine is going to look after you.’
Alicia snorted. A friend. No doubt a previous lover who was bohemian enough to dress his current women. And it galled her that he’d been certain enough of her compliance that he’d already made the appointment. Her tardiness on leaving her apartment seemed childishly pathetic now.
His voice cut through her thoughts. ‘She’s eighty years old and has the mind of a steel trap. You can take that disparaging look off your face. Your opinion of my reputation is quite obvious and I won’t have you making faces every time someone mentions a woman in connection with me.’