Resisting the Sicilian Playboy
‘I don’t think it would be appropriate for me to attend this evening. Considering my recent history with Mr Valente.’
‘Leo won’t be here this evening. Tonight is a good time for me to introduce you to the Lucchesi Group family. To celebrate the deal of the century.’
‘I thought he was signing the contract today?’
‘He has postponed it once again. Said he was otherwise engaged. It is merely a technicality.’ The older man scoffed.
Dara felt her lips tighten at the thought of what otherwise engaged might mean. ‘If the deal is not completely signed, why are you celebrating?’
‘Among Sicilian businessmen a spoken agreement is taken just as seriously as a written contract. I will have the contract sent over to the castello tomorrow—he can sign it then. Tonight we celebrate.’
Then knowledge that Leo was still in Monterocca had caught her off-guard. She’d thought he would be back to jet-setting around the world by now. Knowing he was in the castle...in the place where they had shared so much... She wondered if his reluctance to leave was about business or of a more sentimental nature.
The older man continued to ramble on. ‘No one is truly surprised that the castle is to be mine once more. It’s just as it should always have been. Out of the hands of those traitors.’ He spoke almost to himself.
‘It was never yours,’ Dara said quietly, and watched the man freeze and regard her through narrowed eyes.
‘That castello belonged to my mother—and all the land that goes with it. It is mine by blood. It does not belong to some disrespectful Valente.’
Dara stood up, feeling her temper snap. ‘Don’t you dare speak about the man I love that way.’
‘You forget your place here, Dara. You are my employee now, not his. Your loyalty is to me.’
‘I’m beginning to realise that I’ve made a mistake. You are a spiteful, mean old man.’
Venom spat from every hard line on his ravaged face as he stared her down. ‘Portia Palmer’s wedding is contracted to me now. You walk away and you lose your client and all of your hard work for nothing.’
‘It wasn’t for nothing.’
Dara smiled to herself. It wasn’t for nothing at all. It was for the biggest something she had ever experienced.
She grabbed her coat and bag, sidestepping Umberto Lucchesi in the doorway. Even if Leo turned her away—even if she had missed her chance—she still had to try.
* * *
Dara pulled up outside Castello Bellamo and breathed in the familiar scent of sea and oranges.
The front door opened and Maria came running out.
‘I thought it was you!’ She embraced her in a warm hug. ‘I told him you would come back—I told him—’
‘Is he here?’ Dara interrupted, the urgent need to speak with Leo overtaking her good manners.
‘He’s been down at the pier all day.’ She smiled, warmth in her eyes. ‘He needs a woman like you, Dara. You are a kind soul.’
Dara felt her eyes well up. She had probably done too much damage to expect forgiveness, but she had to at least try.
The stone steps down to the beach gave her just enough time to plan a speech in her head. But all of that went to mush when she was only a few steps away.
He had his back to her, his attention focused on a piece of wood he was repairing on the pier. He wore jeans low on his hips...his white T-shirt was torn and covered with dirt.
He turned and saw her, their eyes meeting across the short expanse of sand between them. Dara steeled her reserve and walked closer to the small wooden pier, aware of his gaze on her the whole time.
‘I didn’t realise you were so handy,’ she said, taking in the array of tools set out alongside him.
‘Hello to you too, Dara.’ His face was guarded, his expression unreadable as he stepped down from his perch and wiped his hands on a nearby towel. ‘My uncle sent you, I suppose?’
‘Nobody sent me. I’m here because I want to be.’
‘I’m honoured.’ He laughed, kicking a few rocks off the polished wood with a thump.
‘Please, no jokes.’ Dara felt queasy with nerves, and it must have shown on her face because his expression suddenly turned deathly serious.
‘Is something wrong? Is he treating you badly?’
He walked towards her.
‘No, nothing dramatic like that.’
‘What, then?’ He met her gaze intently.
‘I’ve missed you,’ she whispered, softly placing one hand against his chest.