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‘I don’t flatter myself that I could have done anything more to help Raoul. I look back and ask myself if I could have done something to help him reconnect with you.’ She shook her head.
‘You and I both,’ Luca said grimly, ‘but I doubt either of us could have helped Raoul. My mother won’t come back, and my father will never change. That was something both of us had to get used to, and Raoul never could.’
She sucked a sharp breath in when Luca leaned forward to take hold of her hands. His touch was strong and comforting, and also extremely disturbing.
‘You were kind to my brother when you had your own grief to deal with,’ he said, staring intently into her eyes. ‘You lost your parents, and then your sister, but you still reached out to Raoul, and I must thank you for that.’
‘There’s no need to thank me,’ she said, removing her hands from his before his touch addled her brain. ‘I needed Raoul as much as he needed me. My sister had been dead more than a year when we first met, but the wound was as raw as if it had only been yesterday. We helped each other through. But what about you?’
‘What about me?’ Luca asked with faint amusement.
‘You’re still grieving, and you’ve no one to turn to. You’ve tried and failed to win your father’s affection—’
‘I don’t need anyone’s affection,’ he said sharply.
‘It must be lonely in your ivory tower.’
‘My ivory tower?’ he repeated with an edge of irony. ‘Is that how you see me?’’
‘You’re defensive,’ she countered, ‘That’s why I make allowances for you.’
‘You make allowances for me?’ His stare scorched her.
‘When Lyddie died I thought I’d never get over it, but I knew I had to try. Raoul wouldn’t want your life to grind to a halt, any more than Lyddie would want me to waste my life grieving for her.’
‘My life hasn’t ground to a halt,’ he protested.
‘And yet you can spare time to act as courier to a precious stone your father won’t even see, in the company of a woman you hardly know.’
‘You’re very suspicious,’ he said, settling back.
‘And you’re not?’ she parried. ‘And as for my suspicions—wouldn’t you be suspicious? You tell me your father doesn’t need another precious stone, and I can’t see why he needs an exhibition. If he’s a typical hoarder the last thing he wants to do is share.’
‘Maybe he doesn’t want these things, and I do?’ Luca suggested. ‘Maybe I have other plans for my father’s gemstones.’
‘I’m sure you do,’ Jen agreed. ‘And I do know we’re both grieving, and maybe we always will, but if I had one wish it would be that you could be straight with me.’
‘If you’re having second thoughts, you should have had them at that roundabout.’
‘I’m not a quitter. I prefer to face my demons. I don’t run away from them.’
‘I hope you’re not suggesting I do?’ Luca commented with a sideways smile.
‘Not at all,’ Jen insisted. ‘You’re on a mission. I just don’t know what that mission is, and I wish you’d tell me.’
‘You’ve got a great imagination.’
‘And I’m not stupid,’ Jen said quietly.
‘I never thought for one moment that you were. If anything,’ he admitted dryly, ‘the experiences you’ve had have only honed your powers of perception.’
She wondered what he meant by the double-edged compliment and shrugged. ‘I’d rather have missed out on those lessons.’
‘Me too,’ Luca admitted.
His rueful smile tempted Jen to believe she was overreacting, and there was no conspiracy to lure her to Sicily, where she would only be doing her job. Having managed to convince herself, she felt as if the world seemed a brighter, kinder place.
* * *
Sicily! Jen couldn’t have been more excited, or more wary of what might lie ahead as Luca escorted her down the steps of his jet
‘Welcome to my homeland.’
‘I’m thrilled to be here,’ she said honestly.
The jet had landed on the Tebaldis’ private island, which was a small, green outcrop of land, set like a jewel in an aquamarine sea a small way off the coast of Sicily, according to Jen’s research. The airstrip was close to the sea. She could hear the rush of the surf, even from the steps of the plane. It was pitch black beyond the brilliantly lit airstrip, apart from the neat arrivals hall with its welcoming glow issuing from every window. The sky was like a carpet of black velvet overhead, littered with stars. The moon was a beacon that cast a steady light, hinting at rolling hills and forests beyond the airport. It was so warm she could discard her wrap. She stuffed it in her bag and turned her face skywards. She could smell more than aviation fuel in the air. Ozone cut through it on a sharp, cool breeze, and quite suddenly she felt incredibly optimistic. Why not, when she was here to do the job she loved?
‘What do you think of it so far?’ Luca asked, making her body quiver with awareness of him as he came to stand close.
‘From what I can see of it?’ she suggested dryly.
‘It’s beautiful, isn’t it?’ he said, staring up at the starlit sky. ‘I’d forgotten just how beautiful.’
‘No light pollution,’ she said matter-of-factly to fight off the tingling of a body that was wondering how it would feel to be wrapped in his arms.
‘I thought you were the romantic one?’ he said.
‘Me? No,’ she protested. They were just a few inches apart, and Luca’s deep, husky tone had run straight through her body, setting up all sorts of delicious tingles, and it was all too easy to imagine the brush of his warm breath on her neck. ‘But you do have a very beautiful is
land home—I looked it up on the Web.’
He laughed. ‘You’re such a pragmatist.’
‘Definitely,’ Jen agreed. ‘Talking of which, when will I get to see your father’s collection?’
‘You’re very eager.’
‘Why wouldn’t I be keen when I’m here to do the job I love?’ She’d heard the edge of cynicism in his voice, and she refused to be judged guilty of something when she didn’t know what that something was.
As Luca indicated the limousine waiting for them Jen determined that when she finished her work, she would return to London with her moral slate as clean as when she left the city. But when the driver pulled away from the kerb, that silent declaration faltered. Luca was sitting so close. Here’s hoping I don’t live to regret this, she thought as Luca settled back in his seat, his long, sprawled legs almost touching hers.
‘So, what time tomorrow?’ she asked as the limousine slowed outside what Luca had just explained was just one of several guest cottages on the family compound.
‘Tomorrow?’ he queried.
‘Well, it’s too late for supper now,’ she pointed out. He didn’t seem pleased about that. Perhaps he had imagined she’d spend the night with him.
‘Spent, already?’ he mocked.
‘I want to be fresh for tomorrow’s work,’ she countered, trying not to think about Luca’s lips very gently brushing hers—and the rest.
‘Tomorrow morning, early,’ he agreed.
She pressed her lips together to blot out all thoughts of kisses as she frowned. ‘Fine,’ she said. ‘But what’s your idea of early?’
‘Breakfast at six?’
Jen didn’t even blink. ‘I’ll make breakfast, if you like, and then we can set off together to view the gems?’ She glanced towards the cottage, where the housekeeper had opened the front door to reveal a warm and welcoming glow inside the quaint stone building. ‘And then you can treat me to supper tomorrow night.’
