AllFreeNovel
Share Us
‘Yes indeed,’ she said, aware that he’d moved to stand close to her, so close that she could smell his aftershave, or his cologne, or whatever that wonderful scent was which emanated from his skin. She’d smelt it before in the car but had done her best to ignore the effect it had on her.
Ignoring it again, she turned and looked up at him.
‘And if I decide not to sell it to you?’
For a split second, anger zoomed into his eyes. But then he laughed. ‘You can’t afford not to. The taxes on this place will be considerable.’
‘Not so considerable if I can prove I’m Laurence’s biological daughter.’
‘And how do you plan to do that? He’s been cremated, according to his wishes. You would need his DNA.’
‘There must be something of his DNA in this place. A hairbrush, perhaps? Or a toothbrush?’
‘Perhaps…’
‘Don’t look so worried, Leonardo. I will sell you the villa, but only after I’ve got what I came here to find out.’
‘Which is what, exactly?’
‘What my father looked like, for starters. There was a small article about him on the Internet, but no photos. Mum didn’t have any photos, either. But, more importantly, I want to find out what kind of man he was.’
CHAPTER EIGHT
LEONARDO LOOKED DEEP into Veronica’s lovely violet eyes and wondered if she’d be happy with what she found out. Laurence’s looks wouldn’t present a problem, since he had been a male version of her. But Laurence hadn’t always been an easy man to warm to.
He’d been somewhat introverted, for starters, a typical scientist. Brilliant, but not the most sensitive of men. Leonardo imagined that as a young man emotions were not something Laurence had been familiar with.
His obsessive love for his wife must have thrown him for a loop. Because it clearly hadn’t been in Laurence’s nature to love like that. Her death had derailed him for a long time. Ruth had been the more social of the pair. She’d loved going to parties and entertaining at home.
It was obvious Laurence had just gone along with her wishes to keep her happy. After she’d gone, he’d sunk into a deep depression and had refused to accept any invitations, other than at Christmas, when Leonardo’s mamma would force him to come down to the Hotel Fabrizzi for Christmas dinner. Even then, he’d been a right misery, leaving the table as soon as it was polite and sitting by himself, not talking to anyone.
Leonardo couldn’t help having felt sorry for him, priding himself on having been the person to drag Laurence out of his mourning. Every time he’d come home to visit his parents, he’d made the effort to visit him up at his villa, their friendship deepening when Leonardo had broken his ankle rock climbing a couple of years back and had come home to recuperate. Laurence had become frustrated with watching Leonardo struggle up the path on crutches to visit him and had insisted he move in with him until his ankle healed.
It was during that time together that their real friendship had begun, Leonardo having confided to Laurence over a bottle of wine one night how devastated he had been when he’d been forced to retire early from competitive skiing. No one in his family had ever understood how upset he’d been at the time. His parents had simply been pleased that he was no longer risking his neck on the slopes. Uncle Stephano had been of a similar mind-set, saying there was just as much satisfaction in succeeding in business as in sport.
None of the
m had had a clue.
But Laurence had. He’d understood totally, his empathy coming as a surprise.
‘There is nothing worse for a man, Leonardo,’ he’d said gently, ‘than to have a goal snatched away from him, right when it is within reach. I know how that feels. I was on the verge of making a huge scientific discovery when all my funding for that particular research was suddenly cancelled. There was nothing I could do at the time. It was at the start of my career and I had no reputation to fall back on. I felt quite suicidal. Fortunately, I met Ruth around that time, and she made me see that there was more to life than science. One day, my boy, you will find a new dream, one which you can fulfil. Meanwhile, try to enjoy what you have, which is a lot.’
It had been sound advice. Looking back, Leonardo could see that their mutual confidences had resulted in an affection for each other that was unconditional. Leonardo had accepted Laurence’s flaws, and vice versa. It had made for an ease of companionship which hadn’t required the usual male tendency to try to impress. With Laurence, Leonardo had been able to be himself. He missed that.
‘Laurence was a good man, but he was basically a loner,’ he told Veronica, couching his words carefully. ‘Most scientists are, I would imagine. Their work is a huge part of their life. Ruth used to get him to socialise. She liked entertaining and having guests to stay. But after she died he reverted to type. Mamma often invited him to dinner and to parties but he usually declined, except at Christmas. I guess I knew him better than anyone on Capri. He was very open with me. But, even then, it’s obvious he had his secrets.’
‘You’re talking about me,’ she said.
‘Yes. You came as a shock, I can tell you.’ In more ways than one. Over the phone she’d come across as brusque and spinsterish, so he’d been expecting a plain woman. But Veronica was anything but plain. She was utterly gorgeous. Leonardo suspected that he would have difficulty keeping his hands off. Already he wanted to run his fingers through her hair, to pull her to him and kiss her until she forgot all about what her father had been like. Leonardo knew he could make women forget all sorts of things, especially once he got them into bed. Make himself forget too. Sex soothed the dissatisfied beast in him. That, and gazing out at this hypnotic and wonderfully relaxing view.
Leonardo turned to gaze out across the sea for a long moment. Soon Laurence’s villa—and this view—would be his. But until then he’d have to make do with other methods of relaxation.
He turned back to face Veronica with his most charming smile in place, the one which always melted the ladies and made it oh, so easy when he came across a female he fancied. And he fancied this one. More than he had in a long time, Leonardo conceded. She actually reminded him of a girl he’d come across one night many years ago. A girl very similar to Veronica in looks. A girl who’d caught his eye but who’d rejected his drunken invitation with the disdain it had probably deserved.
She’d been Australian too, he suddenly recalled.
His brows drew together as he stared at her again. Surely not?
