‘If that’s all, it’s been a long day; I’m going to go to bed.’
Dante nodded and gestured with an arm. Bidding her goodnight, he watched her walk away. His face changed in an instant into an expression so brooding and intense that if she had turned back and seen it she would have run for the hills.
CHAPTER NINE
FOR THE NEXT couple of days the villa was transformed from an oasis of calm to a hive of activity as caterers, more household staff, gardeners and security men all worked to get things ready for the arrival of the VIPs. Alicia wandered around, thankful that
Dante seemed to be firmly ensconsed in his office most of the time, no doubt preparing for the conference. Ducking out of the way of two men carrying in a huge display of exotically coloured blue flowers, she followed them curiously. She’d been too intimidated so far to explore too much but now she followed the men into a huge dining room. She gasped with pure delight. The walls were an exquisite shade of blue and the ceiling was made up of panels of reflective glass. It was so unusual, she’d never seen anything like it in her life. It was all at once decadent, old and inherently modern.
The men had stopped and were holding the display awkwardly near the huge table, which dominated the room. They looked at her expectantly and one of them said something.
Alicia looked back at them, had she missed something? ‘Scusi … I don’t speak Italian. Would you like to see the housekeeper?’
A dryly amused voice came from close behind her, making her jump.
‘They think you’re the mistress of the villa; they want to know where to put the flowers.’
Alicia’s breath was momentarily driven from her lungs when she looked at Dante. It was the first time she’d seen him all day. And for the first time he was dressed down, in jeans and a shirt. Her pulse jumped to vibrant life. She swung her gaze back to the men and tried to smile, shaking her head. ‘No … no.’ Attempting to show in sign language that she and Dante weren’t man and wife, she only ended up with two … three laughing men looking at her. Dante said a few rapid words and the delivery men left the flowers in the middle of the table and walked out shaking their heads, still laughing.
Alicia crossed her arms and tilted her head back, barriers springing up rapidly. ‘Is it always this amusing making fun of foreigners?’
He surprised her by taking her hand and leading her into the room, and heat travelled up her arm. Alicia followed Dante with her heart in her mouth. His hand was huge and warm around hers. And his familiar action threatened to crumble those precious barriers. Her mind worked overtime; he must be using another tactic, getting her used to his touch so that when the others arrived—
‘This room is the oldest in the villa.’
Alicia looked away from him reluctantly, seriously afraid that he was going to pounce. ‘It is beautiful. I haven’t been in here before.’
Dante gestured up to the ceiling. ‘Those panels have been there since the mid sixteenth century—Venetian glass—and that blue on the walls is such an unusual colour because it too is from that time.’
‘Wow …’ Alicia breathed, her mind distracted but her body still very aware of her hand clasped in his. His hard palms surprised her again, made her think of how they had felt on her breast, how they might feel elsewhere. She forced her rampant imagination to cool down. ‘You’re very lucky to have grown up with such a wealth of culture.’
He dropped her hand abruptly and moved away, his head rearing back. Alicia felt bewildered—what had she said?
Dante’s face was like granite. ‘You keep alluding to my so-called background; you obviously didn’t bother too hard to check the facts when you came looking for me.’
Alicia was seriously nonplussed now. She shook her head. ‘I’m sorry; I don’t know what you mean.’
Dante flicked a glance around the room and gave a short harsh laugh. ‘This villa isn’t my family home; I bought it just three years ago. All of my homes are recent acquisitions.’ His mouth tightened as if he was trying to stop himself. He waged an inner battle that was only too apparent in the harsh glint of his eyes and a pulse beating in his temple as he said finally, ‘I don’t come from this, Alicia, much as it might be more palatable to you. I come from the streets of Naples, where you fight for a space, a corner. And that is your home. Was my home.’
‘So please don’t presume to know what I grew up with, because it was light years away from a place like this …’
Alicia wanted to bite her tongue, swallow back the words. She put out a hand instinctively but he just moved further away. ‘I’m sorry, Dante; I had no idea.’
‘No, because you’re like everyone else—eager to capitalize on the wealth that is so conveniently available to you now. Who cares where it came from, si?’
She swallowed convulsively. ‘That’s not fair. I don’t care how you made your money. I would never have come after you if I hadn’t thought it was the only option.’
The injured look in her eyes was making him feel claustrophobic.
‘Yes, well, you did and you’re here now. I have some work to return to.’
He strode from the room and turned at the door, a very cynical twist to his mouth, ‘By the way, your clothes will be here tomorrow morning and a driver will be outside in half an hour to take you into Bellagio; I’ve booked you into a local beauty salon for the afternoon.’
And, with those curtly delivered words, he was gone, leaving Alicia reeling. And, ridiculously, all she could think about was how insulting it was that he believed she needed an entire afternoon in a beauty salon.
Dante went straight outside and gulped in big lungfuls of air. Damn it. What the hell had just happened there? His hands were fisted on his hips, tension radiated in waves off his body, keeping the workers milling around him at a distance.
Why hadn’t he just spilled his guts out entirely? Why stop at telling her the bare bones of the dismal truth of growing up on the streets?