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But it does…the debt. Even as she thought that she looked up, drowning in his dark golden eyes, losing all sense of self. ‘But…the other night…when you didn’t…’
He grimaced slightly, ‘At the villa?’
She nodd
ed faintly.
Vicenzo looked down at her. The revelation of that night and what it had shown him about her still stung. ‘It didn’t feel right,’ he said. And it hadn’t. Apart from her undeniable fragility that night, somehow the thought of making love to her there had repulsed him. He surprised himself now by vowing to sell the villa.
He stepped back, tugging her gently to keep coming with him. Feeling very muddled, Cara finally did.
Before long they approached a restaurant with an open terrace, set back from the beach in a clearing. Muted lights shone from open windows and doors, and when they entered Cara felt she was stepping into the most intimate Italian setting. Vicenzo was greeted warmly by a buxom older woman, who then took Cara in her arms and held her to her bosom before lavishing kisses on her face. Cara couldn’t help but laugh, and it felt good. A bubble of lightness was spreading up through her.
They were led to an upper level, open to the gathering dusk, which held one single table, looking out over the beach and the sea beyond. If Cara had tried to paint a picture of what she had imagined then this was it.
She heard Vicenzo say tightly, ‘We should have tried to get here for sunset…’
‘Oh, no.’ Cara turned a shining face to him. ‘This is wonderful. The moonlight on the water will be magical…and the stars.’
Vicenzo mentally shook his head. If he had brought any of his previous lovers here, by now they would have been running screaming for the hills and civilisation.
Cara reflected on Vicenzo’s words a short while later, as she watched him speak to the waiter in Italian. If what was between them wasn’t about her brother or his sister then what did she have to cling on to for protection? The debt. Like a coward, she skittered away from that thought again. The waiter left and Vicenzo turned to her. Then he smiled, and Cara knew she wasn’t strong enough to deal with a charming Vicenzo. That layer of skin that had been stripped off was nothing compared to what he could do like this.
Cara felt as if they’d somehow gone back in time to the headiness of that first meeting, before she’d known who he was. It was a revelation to Cara as they started to talk about everything and anything, albeit being careful to stay away from controversial subjects.
He told her how the family business had been set up by his grandfather, and had once been just a field with an olive grove. His father had expanded on that by starting a chain of Italian stores, and then Vicenzo had made the business a global enterprise in a shockingly small amount of time. Cara thought of his mother and what she had done, and she could see now what must have given him his drive. She told him shyly of how she’d found such solace in the Valentini coffee shop in London.
She’d never seen Vicenzo like this: relaxed, funny, charming… Even that night in London there had been an edge to him which she just hadn’t given enough credit to at the time, because she’d been so bowled over by the sheer animal attraction that had flared between them.
Over coffee he looked at her so intently that she finally asked, ‘What? Have I got something on my face?’
He shook his head, and then asked quietly, ‘Why did you stay with your brother for so long? Why did you put yourself through that?’
CHAPTER TWELVE
CARA’S belly immediately turned into a ball of knots. It was on the tip of her tongue to say she didn’t want to talk about it, but he knew so much now… She gave a little shrug and looked down at her coffee cup, twirling it around in its saucer. Out of nowhere Vicenzo’s hand came over hers, stopping her nervous movement.
She looked up reluctantly. ‘Cormac was seven years older than me…’ She looked out to the sea for a moment before looking back. ‘I hero-worshipped him. He could do no wrong. I used to trail after him everywhere, and couldn’t understand it when he didn’t want me around. Even when he was younger he was aware of image…’
Cara’s voice was low with emotion. ‘Cormac was bright—very bright. He got a scholarship to a private school, but once the other boys knew our dad was a postman they used to tease him mercilessly. I think that’s when he really started to resent our humble background. But our parents were so lovely…’
Familiar grief welled within Cara and Vicenzo’s hand tightened over hers, stopping her breath for a moment. She swallowed past the lump in her throat. ‘They were just simple, down-to-earth people. Our mum was a housewife… They died within a year of each other. Dad had a heart attack, and I think when Mum found out she had cancer shortly afterwards she just gave up. Cormac had long gone to London, to make his millions in the city. He barely even came home to see Mum when she was dying…’
Vicenzo felt anger rush through him. She’d taken the weight of her parents’deaths on her shoulders. She’d been just a child.
‘And when she died?’
Vicenzo’s voice was unbearably gentle, making Cara feel like ripping her hand out from under his and begging him to stop playing with her emotions. Like a coward she avoided his eyes, she could feel their intensity on her.
‘I went to live with Cormac. He was twenty-three and well able to afford to support me, so he couldn’t say no. Mum had begged me to keep an eye on him. She was so worried. When I got there he wouldn’t let me finish school. He put me to work in his apartment. I managed to home-school myself to get my A levels, and then did the Open University course…’
She looked up briefly, emotion high in her voice. ‘I was planning on leaving. I had my degree, I had my work at the club… I knew by then that I couldn’t help Cormac. All I was doing was watching him self-destruct. Allegra was lucky to have a brother like you. I always hoped that one day Cormac would somehow turn into someone he wasn’t…’ Her soft mouth twisted. ‘Pathetic, I know.’
Vicenzo’s hand tightened on hers as a dart of pain struck him at how he’d let Allegra down. ‘Not pathetic at all. Very human. And he was a fool.’
To Cara’s relief he seemed happy to leave it there, and then to her surprise she realised they were the last in the restaurant. As they walked out he turned to face her, all shadows and angles in the moonlight.
He reached for her hand and raised it to his mouth, breathing in her scent, that evocative musky rose. It twined its way around his senses, making every part of him tighten with anticipation. He pressed a kiss to her palm and said softly, ‘Thank you for telling me about your brother, Cara.’
