His smile got wider. ‘He’s here?’
‘No. He’s outside, waiting for me in his car.’
‘What sort of car?’ Sam sounded genuinely interested.
‘I don’t know.’ She felt cross, though she couldn’t understand why. ‘A convertible of some sort. Silver. Nice.’ Leaning down, she grabbed a glass vase from the cupboard beneath the sink.
‘That’s such a typical girl thing to say. I wasn’t asking about the colour.’
She rolled her eyes. Was he deliberately trying to bait her? She took a deep breath, there was no way she wanted to start an argument with him while Cristiano was outside. Running the tap, she poured the cold water until the vase was half full. ‘Does it matter? It’s a good car, and I’m about to leave in it. That’s all you need to know.’
‘Is he waiting outside?’ Sam asked, his voice even.
‘Yes . . . no . . . why do you want to know?’
‘I want to see what car he has for myself.’
‘Oh no you don’t.’
His face was the picture of innocence. ‘Do you have a problem with that?’
Cesca sighed. ‘Look, you’re the one who wants to hide away from the world and doesn’t want anybody to know you’re here. And now you want to come out and introduce yourself to my date?’ Her voice was as exasperated as she felt. ‘What are you trying to do here?’
‘I just want to make sure his car’s roadworthy. And that he’s Cesca-worthy.’
‘For goodness sake.’ She shoved the flowers into the vase, not bothering to arrange them. ‘I’m leaving now. Goodbye, Sam.’
It was only when she made it to the hallway that she realised he was following her. Shaking her head, she pretended to ignore him. He shadowed her through the front door and down the steps. From her vantage point on the driveway she could see Cristiano’s look of shock.
‘Are you satisfied?’ she asked Sam through gritted teeth. ‘Is the car good enough for you?’
‘It’s a Ferrari Spider.’ Sam’s voice was so quiet she could barely hear him. ‘Nice.’
Something in his tone made her turn to look at him. The expression on his face was unfathomable. It made her want to reach out, to touch him, to smooth the lines away. It took everything she had to walk away, leaving him standing on the steps.
Too bad he didn’t get the memo. He followed her to the car, walking over to Cristiano and holding out a hand. ‘Hi, I’m Sam Carlton.’
Cristiano stared at him for a moment, before taking Sam’s proffered palm. ‘Cristiano Gatto. It’s a pleasure to meet you.’
‘Are you two going anywhere nice tonight?’ Sam had a conversational tone. His mercurial mood swings were driving Cesca crazy.
‘Just a little restaurant I know along the coast.’
Sam’s smile split his face. ‘Cesca has a thing for restaurants along the coast.’ He glanced at her from the side of his eyes. ‘She prefers risotto to pasta, though.’
Cristiano frowned. ‘OK . . . ’
‘If you buy wine, she really likes the Valpolicella. Not a 2002 one though. That was a terrible year.’
‘Cristiano is a restaurateur,’ Cesca told him tartly. ‘I don’t think he needs your advice on food and drink.’
Sam shrugged. ‘Just trying to help. Oh, and she promised to be back by midnight, so I’ll see you before twelve.’
She whipped around to look at him, furious. ‘Sam!’
He threw his hands up in the air. ‘What? I’m just repeating what you already said.’
Cristiano’s frown deepened. ‘Is there a problem with me taking her out? Something I should know about?’