Читать книгу The Italian’s Ruthless Marriage Command - HELEN BIANCHIN, Helen Bianchin - Страница 8

CHAPTER THREE

ATTENDING to the packing of both Ben’s and her own belongings involved more than simply transferring a number of boxes in one car. She needed her reference and research books for her current work in progress, laptop, printer, fax, as well as several notebooks, disks.

Then there were personal items, such as her and Ben’s clothing. It was just as well Dante had offered Claude’s services and a four-wheel drive, for it took three trips before Taylor closed up and secured her apartment, then followed Claude in her Lexus.

It was way too late to have second thoughts as she entered Dante’s mansion and attempted to accept this was now her home for the foreseeable future.

The home itself didn’t faze her…but its owner did. A telling admission, and one she tried hard to dismiss. Without success.

For the umpteenth time she wondered at her sanity, only to once again temporarily banish her reservations by reaffirming the sharing of Dante’s home was the best option for Ben.

And the best for Ben was what Casey would have wanted.

Taylor offered Claude a genuine smile and thanked him for his help as she followed him upstairs, where Anna, bless her, had supervised the boxes into each guest suite.

Together they completed Ben’s suite, involving him in the process by suggesting he display his toys, before setting up her home office. Lastly, her own suite, which she assured she’d tend to herself.

All told, the moving and unpacking process took most of the day, and there was time for a quick shower, a change of clothes before she readied Ben for dinner.

Please let it just be the two of us, Taylor bade silently as she took Ben’s hand and they made their way downstairs to the dining room. The thought of sharing a meal and conversation with Dante accelerated her nervous tension a few levels, and she offered up a silent appeal to the deity both she and Ben might eat alone.

Except the appeal went unanswered, for Dante was there as they entered the room, standing tall, without his usual attire of jacket and tie, his shirtsleeves rolled to halfway on his forearms, an easy smile softening the hard planes of his face as he moved forward with the grace of a jungle cat.

‘I believe you’ve settled in?’ The query was directed to include both of them, and Taylor inclined her head, while Ben offered solemnly,

‘We put all my toys out. And Taylor’s room is close to mine. Sooty has her bed and kitty litter in my bathroom.’

She watched as Dante lifted Ben and rested him into the crook of his arm.

‘Sooty stays with me at night.’ Ben spared Dante an anxious look. ‘Taylor lets her sleep on my bed.’

Please don’t say no, Taylor begged silently.

‘I used to have a cat who slept on my bed when I was young,’ Dante confided, and Ben’s eyes widened.

‘You did? What colour was your cat? Sooty’s black. She has a white patch on her nose.’

‘I had Baci, a tortoiseshell.’

‘Baci means kisses,’ Ben relayed importantly, and Dante smiled in acknowledgment.

‘Yes, it does.’

An innocuous remark, Taylor conceded…so why did it suddenly send awareness spiralling through her body?

Because she was tired, fraught and feeling way out of her depth. Why, she agonised silently, when she had nothing to fear from the man whose home she occupied?

A good night’s sleep was all she needed. A day or two to accept concrete evidence of her new reality.

At that moment Anna appeared bearing a tray containing a steaming casserole and a dish of rice, together with a platter of assorted vegetables.

Taylor took the chair Dante indicated and seated Ben next to her, while he took the chair opposite.

Did he sense her nervousness? She hoped not. Yet she found it impossible to relax, and she ate mechanically. At the end of the meal she selected fresh fruit in lieu of dessert, and requested tea instead of coffee.

In a way it was a relief when the meal concluded, and Ben provided the perfect reason to escape.

‘Can I please go upstairs and check Sooty? I think she might be lonely.’

‘Of course. I’ll come with you,’ Taylor said quickly, and caught the faint amusement evident in Dante’s dark gaze.

‘Perhaps we could go together,’ he suggested. ‘You can show me your toys.’

Ben didn’t hesitate, and for the ensuing hour man and boy communed on the merits of almost every wheeled vehicle currently on offer…including planes, trains and automobiles. For so young a boy, Ben could reel off a number of brand names…his favourite being a red Ferrari. Something he fervently hoped to own one day. Together with a motorbike.

Every boy’s dream, and he happily didn’t protest when she declared it was time for bed.

‘Taylor reads me a story every night.’ He looked at his uncle. ‘Will you stay and read me one, too? Please, Zio Dante.’

‘Of course, if you’d like me to.’

Something Dante appeared only too willing to do…whenever he was home, she added silently, which hopefully wouldn’t be too often.

A prediction which didn’t hold true, for he shared breakfast with them the next morning, and sat down to dinner each evening. Ben’s bedtime story became a nightly event, and Friday evening Dante added to Ben’s wish-list by suggesting they visit a dog breeder at the weekend in order to choose a puppy.

Not, praise heaven, Taylor begged silently, something with the potential to grow too big.

‘A Llasa Apso,’ Dante revealed, sparing her a musing glance.

Did he read minds? Or were her thoughts merely too easy to interpret?

‘They’re a small breed, and in this instance they’re already trained.’ He reached into his shirt pocket, withdrew a folded coloured print and showed it to Ben. ‘What do you think?’

Taylor saw Ben’s expression change into instant love, and the look he cast Dante held a degree of reverent awe. ‘Can I really have one?’

‘Yes, and we can bring it home.’

‘You’re the best.’ Ben’s eyes shone as he lifted his arms and gave Dante a hug. ‘Thank you.’

Dante returned the embrace and brushed his lips to his nephew’s forehead. ‘Time to go to sleep, hmm? Tomorrow will be a big day.’

Dante stood aside as Taylor tucked in the covers and kissed Ben goodnight before preceding Dante from the room.

‘That’s kind of you,’ she said quietly. ‘Leon had promised Ben a puppy for his birthday.’

He indicated the stairs and they began descending to the lower floor.

‘You think I’m attempting to buy Ben’s affection?’

She shot him a startled look. ‘A puppy is a perfect gift. Casey didn’t feel Ben should grow up thinking he could have anything he wants.’

He indicated the library, followed her in, then gestured towards a comfortable leather chair.

‘I fly out to New York on Monday for a few days, possibly longer,’ he revealed as he crossed to lean a hip against the antique desk. ‘You can contact me via my cellphone. You have the number.’

‘I’m sure it won’t be necessary.’

No, it probably wouldn’t. She was efficient, capable and considered Ben her main priority.

He slanted an eyebrow and his mouth curved in to form a light smile. ‘You could always call and say hello.’

‘I wouldn’t think of disturbing you.’

Did she have any idea the pulse at the base of her throat quickened in beat whenever she was in his presence?

Her controlled persona was a façade…and he wondered what lay beneath it.

He’d given her no reason to be wary of him, yet she wasn’t comfortable…and he was sufficiently intrigued to discover why.

In time.

‘I’ll set up a computer here, with a web-cam. It’ll enable Ben to have daily visual contact with me.’

He had the sudden urge to ruffle her composure, see those beautiful eyes dilate and watch the pulse at the base of her throat thud into a quickened beat.

Her reaction intrigued him…as she did. So outwardly practical. Laudable, but it was what lay beneath that held his interest. Had done so for quite some time. Yet distance and the pressure of business worked against him. Now, given unforeseen circumstance, he had all the time in the world.

‘If that’s all you wanted,’ Taylor offered as she rose to her feet, ‘I’ll say goodnight…and thank you.’

His eyes became faintly hooded, and a slow smile curved his generous mouth. ‘Thank me for what, precisely?’

‘Making the effort to ensure the transition is as easy as possible for Ben.’

He inclined his head. ‘And you, Taylor?’ he pursued softly. ‘Has the transition into my home, my life, been easy for you?’

No. She wanted to say he had to know that, for it disturbed her how well he appeared to read her.

‘I’m sure the arrangement will work out well,’ she concurred politely. With that, she moved to the door, opened it and escaped into the wide hallway, uncaring whether Dante followed or not.

The acquisition of a puppy proved a huge success, together with kennel, puppy toys, bowls and various trappings a well-cared-for puppy should have. Rosie, for the Llasa Apso Ben chose was female, lapped up all the loving attention Ben offered, and returned it in kind. Dante’s absence in New York provided Taylor with a welcome break from his presence, although his image was there every evening at a prearranged time via the computer webcam as he chatted to Ben.

Taylor was careful to keep her conversation to a minimum, offering a polite greeting on connection, followed by an equally polite ‘goodnight’ prior to deactivating the web-cam.

Did he guess at her apparent reluctance to participate in more than a perfunctory sentence or two? Undoubtedly. For she glimpsed the slight curve at the edge of his mouth, the faint musing gleam in his dark eyes.

It was Ben who relayed a birthday invitation for Sunday.

‘My friend Tamryn is having a party because she is going to be four. Taylor is taking me, and I wondered if you could come, too. Please, Zio. Will you be home in time?’

‘I’ll do my best,’ Dante assured. ‘Taylor can give me the details tomorrow evening.’

‘Cool.’

Sunday provided sunshine and crisp temperatures, and Ben’s excitement was engaging as the time to leave for the party drew close.

‘Everyone from kindy is going to be at Tamryn’s house.’

Taylor dropped a kiss on the top of his head. ‘You’ll have lots of fun.’

His eyes shone with anticipation. ‘Tamryn says there’s going to be a clown, and rides, and a huge big rubber house to play in.’ He barely paused for breath. ‘Can we go now?’

‘Sure we can.’ She picked up the brightly wrapped present with its fun card. ‘Shall we say goodbye to Anna first?’

‘And Claude,’ Ben added. ‘He’s in the garden.’

It didn’t take long, and the adherence to good manners brought forth a smile as both Anna and her husband bade Ben goodbye and hoped he enjoyed the party.

The invitation stated two o’clock, and Taylor drew the car into the kerb outside a large, stately home in suburban Woollahra.

A security guard manned the gate, checking invitations as guests arrived and offering directions to the rear of the grounds, where the party was set up.

‘There’s Tamryn.’

Taylor felt the sudden tightening of Ben’s hand within her own, and she gave his a reassuring squeeze as they drew close to a group of excited children all dressed in their finest, and mingling parents.

‘You’re going to stay, aren’t you?’

‘Hey,’ she chided gently, ‘you think I’m going to miss out on all the fun?’

And it was fun; the professional planning ensured there was spontaneity in the children’s games, with thirty-odd pre-schoolers enjoying the time of their lives. Any minor squabble was intercepted, the perpetrator distracted, and eventually it was time for food, drink…and most importantly, the cake.

It was easy to smile, to laugh a little at so many small faces glowing with anticipation as four candles were ceremoniously lit.

A sudden prickle of awareness slid up Taylor’s spine and settled at her nape…an instinctive alert she endeavoured to ignore without much success.

She shifted her gaze slightly and caught sight of the tall, broad-shouldered male figure crossing the grounds towards the host, hostess and their grouped guests.

Dante. Attired in dark tailored trousers, a white shirt open at the neck, worn with a black butter-soft leather jacket.

It wasn’t so much his attire that drew attention but the man himself, for there was an intrinsic quality she chose not to define…just aware of an instinctive need to build her defensive barriers high in self-protection.

Survival…her own. Against a man whose sensual potency threatened to wreck her equilibrium. Something she vowed no man would ever be permitted to do again.

Why now, when she’d reached a relatively relaxed state of mind? Settled, she added silently, into a life of relative contentment.

Yet in one fatal second her world had changed, flung into an orbit she struggled to control.

Not Ben…never Ben.

Dante.

A man who disturbed her more than she was prepared to admit. Had from the moment she first saw him. Friendly, warm…with a reputation for preferring sophisticated women who knew the score.

It wasn’t her nature to flirt. Nor did she favour casual sex, possibly because there had been no one for whom she’d been tempted to discard her moral beliefs.

Besides, Dante resided abroad and travelled the world. Any liaison with such a man could only be destined for heartbreak…and she was fiercely determined it wouldn’t be hers.

Later she had reason to enforce that decision a hundredfold.

Yet now he was in her life, occupying her mind, infiltrating her senses, and she struggled against it…wanting only the tranquil life that had once been her own.

‘Taylor.’

She turned slightly and tilted her face a little to meet his easy smile. He had the advantage of height, marked by her choice of flat shoes for the afternoon.

‘Hi.’

There was strength apparent beneath the casual elegance of his clothes. A compelling quality that stood him apart from other men. Power, she determined, and an innate sense of control. Mesh it with latent sexuality, and the result drew women’s attention like bees to a honeypot.

Hadn’t she witnessed evidence of it at every opportunity?

‘Ben will be pleased you managed to make it.’

The sparkling laughter he’d glimpsed had faded, replaced by polite friendliness…and he resisted the temptation to cup her cheek, smooth a thumb over her lips, feel them tremble a little beneath his touch.

Almost as if she sensed his intention, her body stiffened, and the edge of his mouth lifted a little with the knowledge she was aware of the electric tension existing between them.

‘I wouldn’t disappoint him.’ His voice was a silken drawl as his gaze lingered briefly on the pulsing beat at the edge of her throat, then shifted to acknowledge Ben’s excited wave. ‘It’s good to see he’s enjoying himself.’

‘Yes.’

Ben raced towards them, arms outstretched as he reached his uncle, and Taylor watched as Dante lifted him high against his chest to settle him in the crook of one arm.

‘We’re all getting a present,’ Ben enlightened with excitement. ‘And Tamryn says the party isn’t over yet.’ He transferred an anxious look from his uncle to Taylor. ‘We can stay, can’t we?’

‘Of course,’ Dante conceded easily.

It became a pleasant hour as the parents mixed and mingled while the children were supervised at play.

Drinks were offered, together with coffee, tea and canapés…and fairy lights illuminated the grounds as the sun faded beyond the horizon.

Dante rarely moved from Taylor’s side, projecting a unified front…one she chose to dissemble without much success.

It was almost seven when they collected Ben, bade Tamryn goodnight and thanked the little girl’s parents for the party invitation.

Ben was already beginning to droop as Dante hoisted him high onto his shoulders and accompanied Taylor out to the car.

It had been an exciting day for a little boy, who once they reached home, wanted only a glass of milk after his bath, and fell asleep almost as soon as his head touched the pillow.

‘Anna has prepared dinner,’ Dante relayed as they quietly closed Ben’s door behind them.

Togetherness was a fine thing, but Taylor was in overload, and a little wired from spending a few hours in his company.

‘I’m really not hungry.’

A statement which incurred an intense look. ‘You barely ate a thing at the party.’

‘I’m fine.’ He saw too much, divined more, and it put her on edge. ‘I’ll grab a banana, coffee, and spend time on my laptop.’

‘I’ll have Anna bring you a tray.’

She raged a silent battle for a few seconds, then ventured with extreme politeness, ‘I’m capable of doing that myself.’

Dark eyes speared her own, and held, almost as if he knew, then he inclined his head. ‘Your prerogative.’

‘Thank you.’

The air seemed to hold a curious tension…something she chose to ignore as she descended the stairs and made her way to the kitchen, where she apologised to Anna for her lack of appetite, then with a mug of fresh coffee in one hand, a banana in the other, she bade Dante and Anna ‘goodnight’.

‘Don’t work too late.’

Taylor sensed mild amusement beneath his indolent voice, and told herself she didn’t care if he thought she was avoiding him.

What was more, she’d work as late as she liked.

She occupied his home, but she was damned if he’d tell her what to do!

Consequently she entered the home office, opened her laptop, reread the previous day’s work and wrote…weaving characters, motive and suspense into script, becoming lost in the fascination of creative process.

Occasionally she rose from the chair, flexed her shoulders and executed a few calisthenics to ease the tension of repetitive movement.

The night hours were her most productive writing time, and when she’d lived in her apartment she’d often lost track of time, realising the lateness of the hour only when her eyes began to blur…

Now, however, she no longer lived alone…there was Ben, and the compelling man whose home she shared.

Dante, who had led her to believe they’d rarely see each other…except he was there, at every opportunity sharing her life and becoming a large, fundamental part of Ben’s.

So why did it bother her so much? Taylor attempted to rationalise on the edge of sleep…and failed to discover a sensible answer.