Читать книгу Tall, Dark and Italian: In the Italian's Bed / The Sicilian's Bought Bride / The Moretti Marriage - Carol Marinelli, Anne Mather - Страница 14

TESS bought some chicken and vegetables on her way home and stir-fried them for her supper. She wasn’t particularly hungry, but there was no point in starving because she’d made a fool of herself over a man. She wasn’t the first woman to do that and she wouldn’t be the last. And she at least had the satisfaction of knowing that Castelli hadn’t been totally indifferent to her.

She’d bought some wine, too, but, although she left it on the counter, she didn’t open the bottle. It was one thing making herself a decent meal for once. Drinking a whole bottle of Lambrusco on her own was something else. Instead, after making a gallant effort to enjoy the food, she made herself a cup of instant coffee and carried it out onto the balcony adjoining the bedroom to drink.

It was almost dark and already a string of lights had sprung up along the waterfront. She could smell the aromas of food cooking, of garlic and other herbs, and hear the sound of voices from the street below. Somewhere a saxophone was playing a haunting melody, bringing the unwilling brush of tears to her eyes. This should have been such a simple visit, she thought miserably. When had it all started to go wrong?

She knew the answer, of course. It had been wrong from the beginning. Andrea wasn’t ill; Ashley hadn’t been called home to look after her. Instead, she’d taken off with a boy who was far too young for her, causing embarrassment to her sister and distress to his family.

Tess caught her breath as another thought struck her. It was Friday tomorrow, and, remembering what Ashley’s mother had said, she was surprised she hadn’t heard from her again. She prayed it wasn’t because Andrea had decided to make good on her threat and come to Italy herself.

Oh, God, that was all she needed, for her stepmother to show up unannounced. Where would she stay? The apartment wasn’t really big enough for two people and Tess could well imagine that she’d be the one expected to find alternative accommodation.

A burst of laughter from the courtyard below was reassuring. Obviously some of her neighbours were having a party and she envied them their careless enjoyment. She thought if she’d lived here, like Ashley, she’d have made an effort to make friends with the other tenants. She’d noticed a couple of younger people going in and out of the building and they’d looked friendly enough. It would have been fun to brush up on her Italian, too. Fun, also, to invite someone in to share her supper. Someone who, unlike Silvio, would not expect anything more than good food and casual conversation.

She was considering opening the wine, after all, as a compensation for standing here all alone, when everyone else seemed to be having such a good time, when there was a knock on her door.

Tess froze for a moment and then took a swift look at her watch. It was after nine o’clock. Far too late for a casual caller. It had to be Andrea, she thought in dismay. Who else could it be?

She was tempted to pretend she wasn’t in. Ashley’s mother didn’t have a key, obviously, and she doubted the old caretaker would let a complete stranger into the apartment. But she would have to face her sooner or later and she didn’t have the heart to send her away. Depositing her empty coffee-cup in the sink, she composed herself and went to open the door.

It wasn’t Andrea. The man standing outside was probably the person she’d least expected to see, and she stared at him in total disbelief.

‘You should have checked who your caller was before you opened the door,’ Castelli said roughly, by way of a greeting. ‘Who were you expecting?’

‘No one.’ Tess was too shocked to lie to him. ‘I wasn’t expecting anyone.’ Then, in an attempt to regain the initiative, she added defiantly, ‘What are you doing here, signore? Slumming?’

Castelli’s mouth compressed. ‘I will not dignify that remark with a response,’ he declared harshly. Then, with a glance beyond her into the apartment, ‘Are you alone?’

Tess caught her breath. ‘What’s that to you?’ she retorted, in no mood to respect his feelings. The image of his regretful—no, pitying—expression when he’d pushed her away from him on the beach was still painfully acute. How dared he come here and behave as if he had any right to question her behaviour? Unless this visit was to get her to apologise for what she’d said to his mother. If it was, he was wasting his time.

He sighed now. ‘May I come in?’

‘Why?’

‘Because I wish to speak with you,’ he said patiently. ‘And I would prefer it if we could speak privately.’

Tess felt mutinous. ‘I don’t think I want to speak to you tonight, signore,’ she said, squashing the little spark of hope that he might have come to apologise himself. Besides which, it was better if she didn’t spend any time alone with him. Crazy as it was, she didn’t trust herself where he was concerned. She waited a beat and then added defensively, ‘I was just going to bed.’

His expression was sceptical. ‘At nine-fifteen? I do not think so, cara.’

‘Don’t call me that.’ Tess was angry. ‘And it’s really none of your business what I do, signore. I’ll be at the gallery in the morning. If you have anything to say to me, perhaps you could save it until then?’

‘Tess!’

His use of her name was almost her undoing. His voice had softened, deepened to a dark, persuasive drawl. It caused a quiver in her stomach, an aching need that spread to every part of her body. Despite herself, emotions stirred inside her, and she had to lift a hand to the frame of the door to support her shaking legs.

But somehow, she found the words to say, ‘If this is your way of getting me to apologise for what I said to your mother, you’re going to be unlucky.’ She straightened her spine. ‘I meant what I said, and you can tell her from me that I don’t think much of the way she left without even closing the door behind her.’

Castelli’s brows drew together. Then, before she realised what he intended to do, he swept her hand aside and stepped across the threshold. She was forced to move out of his way to avoid coming into contact with his hard body and he used the opportunity it gave him to slam the door.

The sound reverberated round the apartment and she was gearing herself to demand that he get out of there, at once, when he said, ‘What the hell are you talking about? I did not even know you had met my mother.’

Tess’s lips parted. She didn’t want to believe him but there was something so convincing in his gaze that she couldn’t help herself. ‘I—she came to the gallery,’ she said stiffly. She lifted her shoulders. ‘I thought you knew.’

‘Well, obviously, I did not.’

‘No.’ Tess conceded the point. ‘I’m sorry. I naturally assumed that was why you were here.’

Castelli made a strangely defeated gesture. ‘Naturally,’ he said flatly, walking across the living room to stand staring down at the lights of the harbour below. ‘What other reason could there be?’

Tess caught her lower lip between her teeth. She would not feel sorry for him, she thought. That way lay danger. And, as she didn’t have a satisfactory answer for him, she indulged herself for a moment by pretending he really had come here to see her.

With his back to her, she was able to look at him unobserved and her eyes lingered on broad shoulders, shown to advantage in a close-fitting black polo shirt. His black drawstring trousers were tight over his buttocks but only hinted at the powerful muscles of his legs. Taken as a whole, his outfit didn’t look like something he would wear to a social gathering. Which meant what? That he had come here to see her, after all?

The breath she was about to take caught in her throat and all her bones seemed to melt beneath her. A purely visceral surge of longing gripped her, but before she could say something foolish, comprehension dawned.

‘Ashley,’ she said quickly before her panicked breathing could betray her. ‘You’re here about Ashley.’ She paused to take another calming gulp of air. ‘Have you found out where they are?’

He turned then, pushing his hands into the pockets of his pants as he did so, tautening the soft cotton across his thighs. In spite of herself, Tess’s eyes were drawn there. She dragged them away again as he said, ‘No,’ in a flat, expressionless voice. Then, as if he too was finding it hard to speak casually, he continued, ‘Verdicci has had no luck in Genova. If your sister has hired a car, she has hired it under another name.’

‘Oh.’ Tess swallowed. ‘Could she do that?’

‘If she had an accomplice,’ replied Castelli carelessly. ‘Do you know if she has any friends here in San Michele?’

Tess shook her head. ‘Not as far as I know,’ she replied, sure that Ashley had never mentioned any particular friend to her. Certainly no one who might be willing to assist her in doing something that sounded vaguely illegal. ‘She’s only lived here for nine months. Hardly long enough to get that close to anyone.’

‘Except Marco,’ Castelli observed softly, and Tess felt his frustration. Then, his eyes intent, ‘Tell me about my mother. I assume she came to ask you about your sister. What did she say to upset you?’

Tess shrugged. ‘Why do you think she upset me?’ she argued defensively, and a faint smile tugged at his lean, attractive mouth.

‘You said that if I had come for an apology, I would be unlucky, no?’ he responded drily. ‘Please, humour me. I would like to know her reasons for speaking with you.’

Tess sighed. ‘Oh—you know. She thought I might know more than I’d said.’

‘That you might know more than you had told me?’ he suggested shrewdly, and she nodded.

‘Something like that.’

‘Mmm.’ He withdrew his hands from his pockets and crossed them over his chest, tucking his fingers beneath his arms. ‘I guess she was unhappy with the results I had achieved. Did she tell you what a disappointment I had been to her as both a husband and a father?’

‘No!’ Tess was shocked. ‘She didn’t say anything like that.’

‘But she did imply that I was to blame for allowing Marco to become involved with your sister?’

‘No.’ Tess shook her head. ‘It was Ashley she vilified, not you. Or Marco. She said that Ashley had corrupted her grandson. That he was just a child. And when I said that boys of sixteen were not considered children in England, she criticised that, as well.’ She paused. ‘You—you were hardly mentioned.’

Castelli was sardonic. ‘You disappoint me.’

‘Well, I’m sure she didn’t approve of you associating with me,’ Tess appended swiftly. She pressed her hands together at her midriff, aware that she’d changed into an old pair of denim cut-offs when she’d got home from the gallery and they were hardly flattering. ‘She probably thinks that I’ll corrupt you, too.’

Castelli regarded her with mild amusement. ‘Do you think that is possible, cara? I am not an impressionable boy to be dazzled by a woman’s looks. In my experience, a pretty face has a limited appeal. If I had to choose, I would pick brains over beauty every time.’

‘How noble of you.’ Tess couldn’t hide her bitterness. ‘Is that why your wife left you? Because she couldn’t live up to such high ideals?’

It was an unforgivable thing to say, but Tess refused to feel any remorse. She resented the fact that he’d come here, that he’d felt he had the right to force his way into the apartment on some pretext she had yet to discover. All right, the way she’d behaved on the beach had probably given him the notion that she’d be willing to do just about anything he asked of her. But that had been a moment of madness that she had no intention of repeating. Ever.

Castelli moved then and she had to steel herself not to put the bar that divided the kitchenette from the rest of the room between them. But all he did was rub his palms over his spread thighs. He seemed to be more thoughtful than angry. It was as if he was considering her words and deciding how to answer her. Perhaps she’d been a little too close for comfort, she thought eagerly, feeling a momentary surge of revenge.

When he said, ‘I do not wish to discuss my wife with you,’ she felt almost euphoric. And when he continued, ‘Her reasons for leaving me are not part of this equation,’ she was sure she had bloodied a nerve.

‘So I was right,’ she said, amazed at her own temerity. ‘You’re just like your mother and Maria. You Castellis think you’re never wrong!’

‘No!’ The word was harsh and angry and for the first time Tess was aware that they were alone. ‘You are not right,’ he said, coming towards her. ‘Gina and I did not separate because of any high ideals on my part. Not unless you consider the fact that she preferred to sleep in other beds than mine no justification.’

Tess did retreat behind the bar then.

She felt mortified and ashamed. She’d been so intent on scoring points, she hadn’t considered the wounds she might have been inflicting.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said unhappily. ‘I shouldn’t have said that.’ She spread her hands along the bar, nails digging into the plastic rim. She licked her lips and when he didn’t speak she added, with a weak attempt at humour, ‘Blame your mother. I got used to defending myself with her.’

Castelli’s lips tightened. ‘You do it very well,’ he said, facing her across the narrow divide. ‘But you are wrong about me. My opinion of my own character is very poor.’

‘Is it?’

Tess couldn’t prevent the rejoinder and, because it seemed as if she couldn’t speak to him without being provoking, she picked up the bottle of wine she’d left on the counter earlier. The label meant nothing to her but she pretended to examine it anyway. Anything to avoid looking at him, from responding to that dangerous sexuality that he wore as naturally as his skin.

‘It seems you had the last word. As far as my mother was concerned,’ he said after a moment, and she wondered if he was trying to defuse the situation, too. It made it even harder to remember why she’d been so angry with him. But at least talking about his mother seemed harmless enough.

‘It was only because she got upset,’ she admitted now, putting down the bottle and opening a drawer. Rummaging around for the corkscrew gave her another excuse not to look at him. ‘I suggested she went into the office to compose herself. Then she let herself out the back without even closing the door behind her.’

Castelli snorted. ‘She got upset,’ he echoed disbelievingly. ‘That does not sound like the woman I know. Cara, Lucia does not get upset. Not unless it is for some purpose of her own.’

‘Well, perhaps she wanted to spend some time alone in the office,’ offered Tess, finding the corkscrew and pulling a rueful face. ‘I—well, I’m not absolutely sure about this, but I think she might have searched Ashley’s desk.’

‘Non credo!’ Castelli was shocked, she could tell. ‘No. Lucia may be many things, cara, but she is not a thief!’

‘I believe you.’ Tess sighed. ‘But I think she was looking for something all the same.’

‘Cosa?’ What?

Tess shrugged, and then, because she’d succeeded in finding the corkscrew, she felt obliged to use it. She was fitting the screw into the cork when Castelli came round the bar and took the implement from her. ‘Let me do that,’ he said, with obvious impatience. ‘Then perhaps you will explain what you are talking about.’

Tess didn’t argue with him. Stepping back, she let him have his way. But the kitchenette was tiny and he was now much too close for comfort. She couldn’t get past him. Not without rubbing up against him. And that was the last thing she wanted to do in her present state of emotional upheaval.

Instead, she kept her gaze riveted on his hands in an effort to distract herself. But she was uncomfortably aware of the strength in his chest and arms, the way his tight shirt outlined the taut muscles of his stomach.

He was all male, all man, and she wouldn’t have been human if she hadn’t responded to it. Particularly after what had happened between them before. Her breasts puckered in anticipation of a caress they were not going to receive, and she crossed her arms across her body in an effort to hide her reaction from him.

Her mouth was dry and, realising he was waiting for an explanation, she said quickly, ‘I think your mother was looking for information about Ashley. Perhaps she thought I’d missed something when I looked through the desk myself.’

Castelli pulled out the cork before replying. Then, setting the bottle down on the counter, he said, ‘So did she find anything?’

‘Not as far as I know.’ Tess was wary. ‘Why? Do you think she did?’

Castelli made a dismissive gesture. ‘Until this moment, I did not even know she had visited the gallery,’ he said drily. He frowned. ‘But I have not seen her today, so who knows?’

Tess’s lips parted. ‘I hope you don’t still think I’ve been keeping Ashley’s whereabouts a secret from you,’ she exclaimed indignantly, and Castelli gave her a speaking look. ‘You needn’t deny it,’ she continued hotly. ‘That’s why you’ve come here, isn’t it? Because your mother’s disappeared and you think I might know where she’s gone?’

‘Do not be so ridiculous,’ he told her impatiently. ‘I have just told you, I did not even know Lucia had been to the gallery when I came here.’

‘So you said.’

‘What is that supposed to mean?’

‘Well, I only have your word that you didn’t know about her visit,’ said Tess challengingly. ‘And you must admit, you haven’t given me a good reason for coming here yet.’

Castelli leaned back against the counter, resting his hands on the worn plastic at either side of him. Then, with gentle irony, he said, ‘Well, obviously I am not here at your invitation. Let us be honest with one another. Do you want me to go?’

Yes!

But she couldn’t say it. Didn’t want to say it, if she was completely truthful with herself.

‘I’m sure you know exactly what I want,’ she said at last, turning away to open the cupboard door above her. But as he’d opened the wine, it would be churlish not to offer him a glass. ‘I think there are some glasses in here somewhere. Why don’t you have some wine before you go?’

‘Do I have a choice?’

She started, almost dropping the two glasses she’d found in the cupboard. The words had been spoken immediately behind her, his warm breath fanning the damp curls that nestled at her nape.

Looking down, she saw he had placed a hand on the unit at either side of her now and she was successfully trapped within the barrier of his arms. If she turned around, her face would only be inches from his. Goodness knew if there’d be room enough to take a breath and she didn’t feel confident enough to try.

‘What are you doing?’ she asked instead, amazed her voice sounded almost normal. ‘Do you want some wine or don’t you?’

‘If it is anything like your coffee, perhaps I will pass,’ he chided lightly. And then, with sudden passion, ‘Dio, Tess, are you ever going to forgive me for what happened yesterday? I know I hurt you. Do not bother to deny it. And I want you to know I have suffered for it ever since.’