Читать книгу Dante's Unexpected Legacy - Catherine George - Страница 11

CHAPTER TWO

TO DANTE’S AMUSEMENT Rose took surreptitious glances at her phone from time to time when they were seated among the greenery at a table close to the building, a little away from the press of crowds and pigeons in the Piazza.

‘You are expecting a call from your lover?’ he demanded at last.

‘Sorry. Just checking for any client problems,’ she lied. No way was she telling him she was checking on her child—who just happened to be his daughter. She thrust the phone in her bag, feeling suddenly cold. Would Dante try to lay claim to Bea if he found out about her? No way was she sharing her child with him. Bea was hers and hers alone.

‘You look tense. Forget the work for today,’ commanded Dante. ‘Let us enjoy this unexpected gift of time together. First you must rest for a while in your room and then later we shall go wherever you wish.’

Rose forced a smile and insisted that she couldn’t waste precious time in resting, but after some of the café’s famous hot chocolate conceded that Dante’s idea was a good one after all.

‘Bene,’ he said as they walked back to the hotel. ‘Those beautiful eyes look heavy. We shall meet in the foyer at three, yes?’

She frowned. ‘Look, Dante, I’m taking up a lot of your time. If you have other things to do—’

‘What could be more important than spending time with you, Rose?’

‘If you’re sure—’ A yawn overtook her mid-sentence, and Dante laughed.

‘You see? A rest is good, yes?’

Rose nodded, embarrassed to feel glad of the rococo gilded cage instead of trudging up the stairs. ‘If I stayed in Florence for any length of time I’d get very lazy.’

Dante smiled indulgently. ‘It is good to be lazy sometimes, Rose. I shall see you at three—unless you would like to sleep longer than that?’

She shook her head. ‘I’ll be ready on the dot.’

Rose rang her mother for a brief update and learned that Tom had collected Bea from nursery school, and afterwards the three of them had gone for a walk in the park to feed the ducks and buy ice cream.

‘Did she cry for me in the night, Mum?’

‘No, darling. She told me I wasn’t quite as good at reading stories as Mummy, but otherwise settled down fairly well, and went off happy to school this morning. So do stop worrying. Enjoy yourself.’

Reassured, Rose had a brief rest on the bed, showered herself awake afterwards and changed the white tee for a navy polo shirt. When she saw Dante waiting for her in the foyer downstairs her unruly heart gave a thump as his eyes lit up at the sight of her. He was too good-looking by half, she thought resentfully as he took her hand.

‘You slept, Rose?’

‘I had a shower instead.’

‘So did I.’

Since he was wearing a fresh shirt, his black curls were damp and he smelt delicious, Rose had already gathered that.

‘Where now?’ she asked as they left the hotel.

‘To look at shops, naturalmente!’

Their first stop was on the Ponte Vecchio to look at the jewellery on display, but with her eyes popping at the prices Rose soon abandoned the jewellers for a shop selling silk ties.

‘You want a gift for the boyfriend?’ asked Dante.

Tempted to lie and say yes, she shook her head. ‘For Tom, Charlotte’s father.’ She pointed to one in cream-dotted bronze silk. ‘What do you think?’

‘A good choice. What will you buy your mother?’

‘I think I’ll go for one of these silk scarves. Which do you fancy?’

Dante pointed to one in colours similar to the tie. ‘That one, yes?’

Rose was very pleased with her purchases, sure she would have paid a lot more without Dante’s help. Later, window-gazing at designer clothes in the Via da Tornabuoni, they spent fantastic pretend fortunes on a wardrobe for her before Dante took her to the Piazza della Repubblica to browse through La Rinascente, a department store where Rose could have spent hours.

‘Next time stay longer and linger here as long as you wish. Also explore the Palazzo Pitti and the Tivoli Gardens,’ Dante told her. ‘But now, if you are not too tired, let us walk to Santa Croce to visit the Bar Vivoli Gelateria. The best ice cream in the world is made there.’

‘An offer I can’t resist!’ She laughed up at him and saw his eyes light up. ‘What?’

‘At last you laugh! For a moment I saw the younger Rose again.’

The smile faded. ‘A fleeting illusion, Dante.’

Their progress was slow on the way to the Vivoli due to the lure of the small shops in the Santa Croce area. In one of them Rose spotted attractive plaques in papier mâché painted with vegetables and bought a pair for her mother and Tom. ‘They both love gardening, and these will be light enough to stow in my suitcase.’

He smiled. ‘You have done much shopping for others, but nothing for yourself.’

‘I don’t need anything,’ she assured him. She felt guilty enough about spending Fabio’s money as it was. ‘I’ll settle for this ice cream you promised.’

At the Bar Vivoli Rose rolled her eyes in ecstasy when she tasted her strawberry ice cream. ‘It’s gorgeous—aren’t you having any, Dante?’

He shook his head, smiling indulgently. ‘I will protect the shopping from your gelato while you enjoy. Is there more you wish to buy? Or we could explore the great church of Santa Croce here.’

‘I’d like to very much, but I’d better leave that for another time.’ Not that there would be another time. She looked up at the magnificent facade with regret. ‘Shall we go back now?’

‘Whatever you wish, Rose. Where would you like to dine tonight?’

So he meant them to dine together again. Irritated by her pleasure at the prospect, she told him that at that moment, her palate still rocking with strawberry gelato, it was difficult to think of food. ‘Maybe we could eat in the hotel again?’ At least that way the cost of dinner would appear on her hotel bill and she would feel less obligated.

Dante frowned. ‘If you really wish to. But there are many restaurants in Firenze. One of my favourites is right here in Santa Croce. We could take a taxi if you are tired. You can decide later when you have rested.’

She nodded. ‘Fine.’

‘I will see you at nine then, Rose.’

‘I’ll be ready. Are you taking a rest, too?’

He nodded. ‘Also I must make a few phone calls, touch base, as you say. Ciao.’

Rose waited to make sure Dante stayed put in his room and then, praying she wouldn’t get lost, hurried out of the hotel to make her way back to the Piazza della Repubblica to buy some of the delightful things she’d seen earlier in the department store. It might be Fabio’s money, but he would approve of presents for Bea. When she got back she stowed her packages away in her suitcase and, feeling hot and grubby after her rushed, guilty shopping spree, checked her messages, grateful to find a brief but totally reassuring one from her mother. The other, at last, was from Charlotte, so obviously happy Rose felt a searing pang of envy for an instant before stepping into the shower, but afterwards fell into instant sleep so heavy it took the phone to wake her.

‘Willow House Bookkeeping,’ she muttered sleepily, and bit her lip at the sound of Dante’s chuckle.

‘You are in Firenze now, cara. You obviously slept well!’

She stifled a yawn. ‘Very well.’ She sat bolt upright after a look at her watch. ‘And much too long!’

‘Bene. You obviously needed this. Sleep longer if you wish.’

‘No, indeed. Just give me half an hour and I’ll be ready.’

‘I shall knock on your door.’

Rose shot off the bed to wash and get to work on her face. Wishing she had something different to wear, she brushed her hair loose to ring the changes a little with the faithful black dress, and flung the scarf bought for her mother over one shoulder.

‘You glow, cara,’ Dante told her when she opened the door to him later.

‘Surprising what a little nap can do for a girl.’ She smiled guiltily. ‘I thought Mum wouldn’t mind if I wore her present just once first, but I must be careful not to get anything on it—no more gelato, for a start.’

‘Should such a tragedy happen, I will buy you another. So, Rose, do you still wish to dine here, or would you like something more animado, where locals eat?’

‘Animado with locals, definitely. And I’m perfectly happy to walk.’ Maybe she could persuade him to let her go halves with the bill.

‘Then I shall take you to a trattoria near the bar where you had your gelato. It is basic and traditional, and so popular it is always crowded.’

‘Sounds good. Lead on.’

After her hot, furtive dash earlier on it was dangerously pleasant to stroll with Dante through the balmy warmth of the Florence evening. For one night like this she would pretend he was just a friend she was enjoying an evening with, rather than the man who’d once broken her heart and turned her life upside down. The trattoria was packed, as he had forecast, but a place was found for them in a long red-walled dining room filled with laughing, talking, gesticulating diners sitting elbow to elbow, in total contrast to the formality of the night before, and Rose loved it.

After discussion with the waiter who brought their menus Dante ordered wine and mineral water and sat back, amused to see Rose so obviously enjoying the proximity with her fellow diners.

‘This is more like it,’ she said with satisfaction, sneaking a look at the dishes set down at the next table. ‘Will you help me choose, Dante?’

He leaned close to translate the names of the dishes, and after much discussion about the various delights on offer Rose settled on a mixed grill of fish with spinach. ‘I don’t cook fish much at home, so this is a treat for me. What are you having?’

‘I like your choice. I will have the same.’ Dante nodded in approval as he studied the bottle of wine a waiter offered for his inspection. ‘Grazie. Try the wine, cara, and give me your opinion.’

‘Mmm,’ she said with relish. ‘Gorgeous. What is it?’

‘A Fortinari Classico,’ he said with pride. ‘I am impressed that they keep this range here.’

‘Which means it’s very pricey.’ Rose drank a little more. ‘I can see why.’ She raised embarrassed eyes to his. ‘I’m putting you to so much expense, Dante. Please let—’

‘No!’ he said flatly. ‘To see you enjoy your dinner is reward enough.’

‘I’m enjoying everything.’ She looked round the packed, noisy dining room with pleasure. ‘I love it here.’ Her eyes sparkled as plates were set in front of them. ‘Grazie,’ she said to the waiter.

Dante laughed indulgently as she sniffed in rapture. ‘Enjoy, carina.’

‘I will! It’s a long time since that gelato.’

‘So tell me about this house you live in,’ Dante said later, after Rose had refused a dolce in favour of coffee.

‘It’s my own family home. Mum signed it over to me when she moved in with Tom. He wants them to get married,’ she added, ‘but Mum is happy the way things are, afraid that formalising the arrangement might change it. She believes in the saying “If it ain’t broke don’t fix it”.’

Dante’s eyes darkened. ‘She is wise.’

Rose looked at him questioningly. ‘Were you heartbroken when your wife left you?’

He gave a mirthless laugh. ‘Dio, no! My brother, as always, was right. I had a fortunate escape—forgive me, Rose. You cannot want to hear this.’

How wrong could a man be? ‘Is Elsa still with the new man she left you for?’

‘Yes, though new is not the right word.’ Dante’s expressive mouth turned down. ‘Enrico Calvi is old enough to be her father, but so wealthy Elsa is now enjoying a life of idle luxury.’

‘She wanted to do that?’

‘Oh, yes.’ He smiled sardonically. ‘Younger faces—and bodies—were winning the top jobs. She was glad to abandon her career while still known as a supermodel. Allora, I no longer see her face on magazine covers everywhere to remind me of my folly.’

‘Is she very beautiful still?’

He nodded carelessly. ‘I have not seen her since she left, but Elsa was obsessed with her looks and I doubt she has changed much. Calvi has children from a former marriage and does not demand the babies that would ruin his trophy wife’s perfect body. I, fool that I was, wanted children very much.’

Rose drank some water, suddenly sorry she’d eaten so much as her stomach lurched at Dante’s heartfelt admission.

His mouth tightened. ‘She waited until our wedding night to tell me she had no intention of having babies. Ever. But no more talk of Elsa.’ Dante looked at Rose in silence for a while, his blue eyes intent. ‘Now I must take you back. I wish you could stay longer, Rose.’

‘Not possible, I’m afraid.’

‘Que peccato! In the morning I will drive you to the airport in Pisa—unless you would prefer the train journey?’ He beckoned to a waiter to bring the bill.

‘No, indeed. But won’t that take up too much of your time?’

‘It is not far out of my way home,’ he assured her, ‘and will give me the pleasure of more time with you before you leave. But this will not be goodbye, Rose. I shall see you when I come to England again next.’

Her heart lurched. If Dante still wanted babies no way was she letting him anywhere near Bea. He took her arm to steer her past an approaching entwined couple as they walked back, the contact raising her pulse rate even higher.

Rose paused when they reached the foot of the hotel steps, her eyes raised to the handsome, intent face. ‘This has been a lovely evening, Dante. Not the kind of thing that features much in my life as a rule.’

‘Yet Charlotte told me you have someone in your life.’

‘He’s a friend from my college days.’

‘But surely you will marry one day, Rose?’

She shrugged. ‘I doubt it.’

Dante held the door open for her. ‘When you see Charlotte so happy with Fabio, do you not wish for a relationship like theirs?’ His eyes darkened as they made for the lift. ‘I have always envied them their marriage.’

‘They’re very lucky.’

Dante halted when they reached her room. ‘Ascolta, it is early yet, Rose. I would so much like to sit with you on your balcony and talk for a while longer like old friends. I can order tea. You would like that?’

She looked at him in silence for a moment. ‘All right, Dante.’ She gave him a wry smile. ‘But only because you said the magic word.’

His smile mirrored hers. ‘Friends?’

‘No—tea!’

Dante laughed and rang room service. After a waiter arrived with a tray Dante tipped him and closed the door behind him then pulled up two of the chairs to the metal table on the balcony overlooking the moonlit Arno. Rose poured tea and the coffee Dante had ordered for himself, and sat back in her chair, eyeing him warily.

‘So what shall we talk about?’

‘You, Rose. Tell me why you started your own business.’

‘I applied for accountancy jobs but didn’t get the ones I wanted, so I decided to use my training for something else and eventually hit on bookkeeping.’

‘Ah,’ said Dante, nodding. ‘You went to college again for this?’

‘No. I did an eighteen-month home study course accredited by the Institute of Certified Bookkeepers, and managed to complete it in just over three months.’ Rose drained her cup and refilled it. ‘My mother was a huge help. So was Tom. He found a web designer for me and made sure I informed HM Revenue and Customs, and took out indemnity insurance to cover me while working in clients’ offices. I also got a practising licence...’ She paused, biting her lip. ‘This is probably boring you rigid, Dante.’

He shook his head decisively. ‘I am enthralled. You were so young to achieve all this, Rose. I am impressed.’

‘I had a lot of things going for me,’ she reminded him. ‘With such wonderful support from my mother and Tom, a home of my own with a room I can use for an office—and with my brain still in gear from my finals—I managed to get the new qualification quickly. I now divide my time between working at home and in travelling to small businesses grateful enough for my help and my reasonable charges to pass on my name to new clients.’

‘You make a good living from this?’

‘It was a slow start, but I’ve now done well enough to pay back the money my mother lent me for the original expenses for certification and optional exams and the web design and so on.’ Rose took a look at the clear-cut profile outlined by the light from her room. ‘So now you know all about me, Dante.’

He shook his head. ‘I think not. One day I hope to learn much, much more—but not tonight. I will leave you now to your sleep.’ He raised her hand to his lips. ‘Buonanotte. I shall see you in the morning. Since we must leave early, you would like breakfast brought to your room?’

Rose nodded. ‘Will you order it for me, please?’

‘Subito. And in the morning I shall ring you when it is time to leave.’ He went to the door and turned to smile at her. ‘Now lock it, per favore.’

* * *

Rose spent a restless night after the conversation with Dante. His talk of babies terrified her. If he found out that Bea was his child what would he do? What would she do, if it came to that? She eventually lapsed into a restless doze but woke early, and after a horrified look in the mirror stood under a hot shower until she felt, and looked, more human. By the time her breakfast arrived her hair was dry and she was dressed for travelling, her bags packed.

Soon afterwards, Dante rang. ‘Buongiorno, Rose.’

‘Good morning. I’m ready. I just have to sort the bill.’

‘I will be with you in one second.’

When Rose opened her door Dante smiled at her denim jeans and casual jacket. ‘You look so young, like a student again.’ He took her suitcase. ‘I will put this in the car, which is waiting outside. Forgive me if I stay there with it until you are ready to leave.’

‘Of course. I’ll join you as quickly as I can.’ Armed with her credit card, Rose approached the suave receptionist to ask for her bill.

‘All was settled in advance; there is nothing to pay.’ He handed her a receipted bill. ‘Signor Fortinari waits outside in the car,’ he added. ‘I trust you enjoyed your stay?’

She smiled. ‘I did. Very much. Goodbye and thank you.’

‘Arrivederci and safe journey, Miss Palmer.’

Rose felt uneasy as she left the hotel, wondering if she should have asked for an itemised version of the bill for Fabio, but forgot her worries when she saw the car waiting at the foot of the steps. It was sleek and scarlet and as handsome as the man who jumped out of the driver’s seat as she approached.

‘Wow, Dante, great car!’

He laughed as he handed her inside. ‘This is my one indulgence—she’s a sports car but also practical. She has four doors, also four-wheel drive, which is of much use to me in some parts of the country. You like her?’

‘What’s not to like? She’s obviously the love of your life.’

‘Davvero—see how she responds to me?’

Rose laughed and sank back in the seat, feeling the power vibrate through her body when Dante switched on the ignition. ‘What more can a man ask?’

He shot her a sidelong glance as he drove away from the hotel. ‘Those things a machine cannot do for a man.’

Annoyed to feel her face flush, Rose made no response as she settled down to enjoy the drive, content just to look at the passing landscape as they left the city. She relaxed as she breathed in the aroma of expensive new car, and whatever Dante had used in the shower. ‘This is a big improvement on the train journey,’ she commented when they were speeding along the autostrada. ‘I tried to look at the scenery I was passing through on the way here in the train, but I couldn’t concentrate.’

‘Why not?’

‘I was tired after all the effort it took to juggle appointments and so on before getting away.’ Plus her worries that Bea might be unhappy without her, and the strain of wondering what was wrong with Charlotte.

‘If your mother is looking after your business while you are away she will be pleased to see you back, Rose.’

‘Unless she’s cross with me for buying presents.’

Dante laughed. ‘If so, you may blame me for encouraging your extravagance. But you are very close to your mother, yes?’

Rose nodded, smiling. ‘But we have clashes of temperament sometimes.’

‘My mother had many with my sister Mirella in the past, but now she is Nonna to several grandchildren the clashes happen only when she spoils them too much.’

‘How many nieces and nephews do you have?’

‘Five. Mirella and Franco have two sons and a daughter, and Leo and Harriet one of each.’

‘Harriet?’

Dante nodded. ‘My brother’s wife is English. You would like her.’

Rose was intrigued. ‘How did they meet?’

‘It is such a strange story I shall leave it until next time I see you. I must concentrate now as the traffic is heavy.’

Dante insisted on waiting at Galileo Galilei Airport with Rose until she was ready to board the plane, and took note of her telephone numbers and her address while passengers surged around them as constant announcements filled the air. ‘I will be in London next month to meet an old friend of mine, Luke Armytage,’ he told her. ‘He is a master of wine and owner of a chain of wine stores which retail our best vintages. I shall come to see you then, Rose, but I will consult you first to make sure you are free.’

‘Goodbye then, Dante.’ Rose smiled at him brightly as her flight was called. ‘And thank you yet again.’

‘Prego.’ Without warning, he seized her in his arms and kissed her full on the mouth. He raised his head to stare down into her startled eyes and then kissed her again at such length they were both breathless when he released her. ‘Arrivederci, Rose.’

Afraid to trust her voice, she managed a shaky smile and hurried away after the other passengers.

Dante stood watching as his heartbeat slowed, his smile wry when it became obvious that Rose had no intention of looking back.

* * *

The flight home was tiring. Rose spent most of it convincing herself that there was no danger of falling in love with Dante Fortinari again, even after the electrifying effect of his goodbye kiss, which, from the look on his face, had affected Dante in pretty much the same way. She was human and female enough to find this deeply gratifying, but she would make sure it never happened again. No way could she let him back into her life. She would have to tell him about Bea, and then she would be forced to tell her mother the truth at last, that Dante Fortinari was her child’s father. And then Tom would know, and so would Charlotte, and Fabio, and everyone else involved once she started the ball rolling. By the time Rose boarded the Pennington coach at Birmingham Airport, she had decided against any such dramatic upheaval in her tidy little life. If Dante did ring to ask to see her again she would take the coward’s way out and refuse to see him.