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She shook her head. ‘No—no, it’s not that. Please, I’m sorry—I—’
He held up a hand. ‘We’ll keep this light,’ he said. ‘No pressure, I said, and I meant it.’ His eyes were soft with humour, half-rueful, half-conspiratorial.
Her own gaze softened. ‘Thank you,’ she said. The flare of colour faded and
she took a mouthful of wine. The chilled crisp Chablis tasted so good, and she set the glass down with appreciation and regret. Even without her own compelling reason to avoid alcohol, drinking too quickly like this with Vito was the last thing she needed. She needed to keep her senses set to ‘sensible’.
She watched him take a mouthful himself, then look across at her. Saw him take a deliberate breath.
‘So,’ he said, ‘how did you end up with that little bundle of energy, young Johnny, to look after?’
The humour was uppermost in his voice now, and Eloise gratefully followed his lead. Clearly he wanted to talk about things that were not imbued with deep, heavy emotions, with no troubling memories of a past that had gone so wrong. No pressure, he had said, and she was glad of it.
‘It was a contact through my mother,’ she said. ‘She knew the Carldons were looking for a new nanny and put me forward.’
‘Your mother lives in New York?’
‘Yes, in Manhattan. She works downtown. I’m staying at her apartment tonight.’
Why had she said that? Was it to let him know not to have any expectations? What was she thinking of, entertaining such a thought? She focused hurriedly on what he was saying in reply.
His glance flickered towards her. ‘I didn’t know she was American,’ he said.
Eloise shook her head. ‘She isn’t—she’s British. Or at least she was born British. Maybe she’s taken US citizenship by now—I don’t know.’ She gave a slight shrug. ‘We don’t communicate a great deal now—not that we ever did, really.’
She could not hide the sardonic tinge to her voice as she said that.
Vito heard it, and wondered, but did not follow through. No pressure, he’d promised, and he would keep his promise. So all he said was, ‘If I’d known she lived in New York I guess I’d have tried to find you that way first.’ He paused a moment. His eyes on her still, but slightly veiled. ‘You never told me—’
She met his gaze head-on. ‘You never told me about your aunt having half the Viscari shares and holding them over your head.’
For a moment Vito didn’t answer. Then he said slowly, ‘We never really talked much about our families, did we?’
She bowed her head. ‘No, we didn’t.’
There was a silence. Vito took another mouthful of wine. Strange emotions were building in him, but he wanted to disperse them. He didn’t want things getting heavy—not again.
Deliberately he lightened his voice as he set down his glass. Reverting to a safer subject. ‘Young Johnny’s definitely a cute kid,’ he said, his voice upbeat now. ‘And he definitely likes cars!’
‘Especially fast ones,’ Eloise answered dryly, following his lead and grateful to do so. She felt as if they were skating on paper-thin ice, and right now she wanted the security of dry land. Easy subjects. ‘His father owns quite a few.’
‘John Carldon...’ Vito mused, recalling the brief introductory exchange with Eloise’s employer earlier that day. ‘Is that the banking Carldons?’
‘Oh, yes,’ answered Eloise, even more dryly.
She paused. Should she say this? There were overwhelming reasons not to—but powerful ones to do so.
Conflict swirled in her. Then she spoke. ‘He...he mentioned to me that...that maybe you’d like to come over some time. He said he’d see to it that there were people invited who might be...ah...“useful” to you. You know—about the hotels, what’s happened to them...’
Vito smiled, slightly in surprise. ‘That’s good of him,’ he said. ‘My task for the next few years is going to be raising finance for expansion. It can’t be fast, obviously, but I have to show the world that Viscari Hotels may be down, but I’m far from out.’
There was grimness in his voice, a resolution that Eloise could not be deaf to.
‘Can you do it?’ she asked tentatively.
Vito looked at her. ‘Yes,’ he said. There was no hesitation in his answer—not the slightest. ‘And,’ he went on, and the note of resolution was even more pronounced, ‘I will do it with a lot less weight on my shoulders—a lot less self-inflicted guilt, thanks to you.’
His eyes went to her, softened.
