Читать книгу The Gold Collection - Ким Лоренс, Maggie Cox - Страница 16

‘DANTE must be very popular,’ Rebekah remarked to Nicole later that morning as she looked out of the kitchen window and watched another visitor to the Casa di Colombe walk up the driveway. ‘At least six people have paid him a visit today.’

‘They’re coming to his clinic,’ the American told her. She adjusted the angle of the camera on a tripod and checked the viewfinder. ‘That’s better; I can get a close up shot of the food.’

Rebekah wrinkled her brow. ‘What kind of clinic?’

‘Local people come to him for legal advice. Dante is a hero to many of the villagers. Some years ago they faced the threat of losing the land that they had farmed, in some cases, for generations,’ Nicole explained. ‘The company that owned the deeds to the land wanted to sell a huge area to a development company who intended to build a vast holiday complex here. Dante fought a legal battle to help the villagers win the right to buy their farms. He gave his services for free, and put up a lot of his own money to pay the legal costs. Not only that, but he lent many people the money they needed to buy their land without them having to pay any interest on the loans.’ She smiled. ‘So you see he’s highly respected by everyone around here. The villagers know they can come to him with their problems and he will do his best to help them—and he charges them nothing for his advice.’

Nicole resumed adjusting the settings on her camera, and Rebekah returned to slicing up vegetables to put in a salad for lunch. The more she learned about Dante, the more it became clear that there was another side to the cynical divorce lawyer and heartless womaniser she had believed him to be. He was a man who clearly cared about other people, and who had cared about a woman in his past. What had happened to make him turn his back on relationships? she wondered.

She was still thinking about him when he walked into the kitchen a little while later.

‘Something smells good,’ he murmured, giving her a smile that made her heart flip. ‘I hope we’re going to eat the food after you’ve photographed it.’

‘Your timing’s perfect,’ she told him. ‘We’re almost ready to have lunch. It’s chicken breasts stuffed with wild mushrooms and mozzarella. I just need to add some onion to the salad.’

‘Oh … the smell of onion is revolting,’ Nicole muttered. She had suddenly turned pale, and dropped down onto a chair. ‘Don’t worry, I haven’t gone mad,’ she said when Rebekah and Dante stared at her. She grinned at them. ‘I can’t keep it a secret any longer. I’m pregnant.’

Dante reacted instantly, pulling Nicole into his arms and giving her a hug. ‘That’s fantastic news! When is the baby due?’

‘In just over five months. I’m thrilled to bits, but the only down side is that I seem to get morning sickness at all times of the day, and I can’t bear the smell of certain foods, especially onions.’ She glanced apologetically at Rebekah and gave a shocked cry. ‘Heck—what have you done to your hand?’

‘I wasn’t concentrating and the knife slipped. I’m sure the bleeding will stop in a minute,’ Rebekah mumbled as she wrapped a paper towel around the deep cut. She bit her lip as Dante strode over to her and caught hold of her hand to inspect the wound.

‘I think you’re going to need to have that stitched,’ he growled, his voice rough with concern.

‘It’s fine,’ she insisted tautly. ‘Just put a dressing on it for me.’ She managed to smile at Nicole. ‘I’m so pleased to hear about the baby,’ she said in a fiercely bright tone. ‘You must be over the moon. Try nibbling on a plain biscuit when you feel sick. It should help settle your stomach.’

Dante would not allow Rebekah to cook dinner that evening, insisting that she needed to give her hand time to heal. Instead, he took her to a charming little restaurant in the nearby town of Montalcino, where they ate bruschetta topped with roasted red peppers and olive oil, followed by a creamy risotto that was the best Rebekah had ever tasted.

Afterwards they strolled around the medieval walled town and explored the quaint narrow streets and the charming piazza. ‘It’s such a picturesque place,’ Rebekah said as they walked back to where Dante had parked the car. ‘We must be so high up. The view across the valley is spectacular.’

‘You’ll get a better view when we come back in the daytime.’

Dante glanced at her, relieved that she seemed more relaxed this evening. His eyes fell to her bandaged hand and his jaw tightened. He had no idea what had upset her earlier, when Nicole had announced that she was pregnant. For some reason he recalled the strange way she had reacted at the christening party for James and Susanna Portman’s baby son. He was certain there was something in her past she had not told him. But there was no reason why she would choose to confide in him, he acknowledged. They were lovers, but at the end of the month they would leave Tuscany and go their separate ways.

It was what he wanted, he assured himself. He wasn’t interested in a long-term relationship and he’d already broken one of his rules and become more involved with Rebekah than he had intended. Experience had taught him that a woman with emotional baggage spelled trouble and his common sense told him to end his affair with her. So why didn’t he? he asked himself impatiently. Why was the idea of sending her back to England so unappealing?

When they got back to the house Dante discovered a message on the answerphone from his office in London. ‘I’ll have to check some information and send a couple of emails,’ he told Rebekah. ‘Why don’t you go up to bed and I’ll join you as soon as I can?’

She nodded and went upstairs. Pausing outside her bedroom, she briefly debated whether to sleep on her own tonight. She knew it was silly, but hearing about Nicole’s pregnancy had stirred up emotions that she had tried hard to bury and she didn’t feel confident that she could make love with Dante and pretend that he did not mean anything to her.

Why not enjoy what we have for as long as either of us wants it to last? he had said. But what if she wanted it to last for ever? Tonight, when her heart ached for everything she had lost, she did not want to face the truth that in a few short weeks she would lose him too.

Fifteen minutes later Dante entered his dark bedroom and paused to switch on a bedside lamp before he crossed to the balcony where he could see Rebekah’s outline through the voile curtain.

He came up behind her and slid his arms around her waist, drawing her against his chest. ‘Why are you out here?’ he murmured, pushing her long silky hair aside so that he could press his lips to the base of her neck. When she made no reply he turned her to face him and felt a cramping sensation in his gut when he saw tears shimmering in her eyes.

‘Cara, what’s wrong?’ he said urgently. He lifted up her bandaged hand. ‘Are you in pain? I knew I should have taken you to the hospital to have the cut attended to properly.’

She shook her head. ‘It doesn’t hurt. It was my own stupid fault anyway. I should have been more careful.’

Dante stared intently at her. ‘How come you know what to do to cope with morning sickness?’

She immediately stiffened and attempted to pull away from him, but he held her tight. The sight of a single tear slipping down her cheek touched something deep inside him.

Rebekah knew she was falling apart. A few days ago she would have been horrified to break down in front of Dante. But now … She thought about the breakfast he had made for her, and the rose he had picked and placed on her tray. It had been a kind gesture, nothing more, but she felt instinctively that she could talk to him, that she could trust him.

‘I had a baby,’ she said in a low voice. She swallowed. ‘He … he died.’

Dante struggled to hide his shock. ‘I’m sorry.’ He knew the words were inadequate and he felt helpless. With an instinctive desire to try and comfort her, he stroked her hair and waited for her to continue.

Rebekah took a ragged breath. ‘I had awful morning sickness for the first few months. That’s how I knew how to advise Nicole.’

‘What happened?’ Dante asked gently.

‘My baby was stillborn when I was twenty weeks into the pregnancy. A routine scan revealed that there was no heartbeat.’ Her voice was carefully devoid of emotion, but Dante sensed how hard she was finding it to talk about the child she had lost and he drew her closer. ‘The doctors didn’t know why he had died, but I had been under a lot of stress and I read afterwards that that could have been a reason.

‘After the scan showed that the pregnancy wasn’t viable—’ she stumbled over the coldly clinical terminology that had been used by the obstetrician ‘—I had to go through an induced labour.’ She squeezed her eyes shut and felt the hot tears seep beneath her lashes. ‘The baby was perfectly formed. He was tiny, of course, so tiny, but absolutely beautiful. I held him and prayed that there had been a mistake, that he would take a breath.’

She couldn’t go on, and buried her face in Dante’s shirt as painful sobs tore her chest. ‘It shouldn’t hurt so much after all this time—’ she wept ‘—but it does. I would give my life to hold my little boy again, to see him open his eyes and smile at me.’

‘Dio, cara,’ he said roughly, ‘who says it shouldn’t hurt? Who says you shouldn’t cry for your son?’

Dante’s voice caught in his throat. He had thought he knew all about pain and loss, but Rebekah’s raw grief made him ache for her. He sank down onto a chair and pulled her into his lap, rocking her as though she were a small child while she cried out the storm.

A long time later, when she was calmer and the tremors that had racked her frame had subsided a little, he asked the question burning in his brain. ‘Was Gareth the baby’s father?’

‘Yes, but he didn’t want our child.’ Rebekah pushed her hair back from her tear-streaked face. ‘I found out I was pregnant two weeks before we were due to get married. Although we hadn’t planned to start a family straight away, I assumed Gareth would be pleased. But he was horrified, and that’s when he told me he had been having an affair with Claire for months and wanted to marry her, not me.’

Dante frowned. ‘Surely he offered to go ahead with the wedding once he knew you were expecting his child?’

She shook her head. ‘I’m not sure what I would have done if he had. I felt utterly betrayed by his relationship with Claire, but I suppose for the sake of the baby I would still have married him. But there was no question of that. Gareth didn’t want me or the baby and he …’ She broke off, still struggling to accept how the man she had believed she loved had treated her.

‘He asked me to have an abortion. When I refused he got angry and said I had no right to go ahead with the pregnancy when he didn’t want the child. It turned out that he had told Claire he had stopped sleeping with me, which was almost true,’ she said heavily. ‘I’d thought we were both stressed about the wedding and that was why he had been avoiding having sex with me. But there was one night when he’d had a few drinks and we ended up in bed, and that’s when I conceived.

‘All Gareth was concerned about was that Claire would be furious if she found out that he had lied to her. He was desperate for me to get rid of the baby—’ her voice shook ‘—so desperate that he offered to pay me to have a termination.’

Rebekah gave a bitter laugh. ‘He had inherited a large sum of money from his father. He knew I’d dreamed of opening my own restaurant, and he said that if I ended the pregnancy he would buy a place and set me up in business.’

‘That’s why you were so upset about the clothes I bought for you,’ Dante said, understanding now why she had reacted the way she had done. ‘You leapt to the assumption that I was trying to persuade you to be my mistress.’ He shook his head. ‘In my job I’m often appalled by the way clients treat people they supposedly once cared for, but I’m stunned that your fiancé tried to bribe you to get rid of your baby.’ He felt a surge of angry disgust for the Welshman. ‘What a bastard!’

‘I couldn’t believe Gareth could be so heartless,’ she admitted painfully. ‘I thought I knew him. I thought he was an honest, honourable man who would make a good husband and father, and discovering that I had been so wrong about him made me question my judgement.

‘The following months were awful,’ she continued dully. ‘I didn’t tell anyone what Gareth had done but, as news of my pregnancy became public, he put more pressure on me to have an abortion and pretend I had miscarried. We had some terrible rows and I’m convinced the baby must have been affected by my tension and the stress I was under.’ She twisted her fingers together, her voice shaking. ‘After I had lost the baby, Gareth came to visit me in the hospital, and he said he was sorry our child had been stillborn. But I knew he wasn’t sad. I knew he was relieved and I couldn’t bear to talk to him or be anywhere near him. That’s why I went to London—to get away from all the memories.’ She dashed her hand across her eyes. ‘But memories are inside you and you can’t leave them behind,’ she whispered. ‘I’ll never forget my baby.’

‘Of course you won’t,’ Dante said softly.

Rebekah gave him a surprised look, taken aback by the compassion in his voice. She had expected him to tell her she should put the past behind her, which was the advice she had been given by the few close friends who knew what had happened.

‘Your child was a part of you, and losing him must have been agonising. But he lives on in your heart, cara. As for the excuse of a man you were once engaged to—’ his face hardened ‘—all I can say is that you deserve so much better than him, and he did not deserve you.’

‘Gareth and Claire are married, and now they have a baby,’ Rebekah said dully. ‘I feel as though I lost everything, and I don’t know how I will ever be able to trust someone enough to have a proper relationship.’

‘I’m not surprised you feel like that.’ It was exactly how he had felt after Lara had ripped his world apart, Dante thought to himself.

Rebekah sighed. ‘But I’ve got to try. I want a long-lasting marriage like my parents have and I hope one day to have another baby.’ She gave Dante a ghost of a smile. ‘It’s tempting to lock my heart away and never risk getting hurt again, but that’s cowardly, isn’t it?’

Cowardly! Dante stiffened. It seemed eminently sensible of Rebekah to want to protect herself from emotional injury. After his marriage had ended he had made the decision never to put his faith and trust in a woman ever again. But that wasn’t the action of a coward, he assured himself. He was a realist, possibly a cynic, but he had good reason to be.

Yet although Rebekah had been treated so cruelly by her fiancé, she was still prepared to risk being hurt again in her search for love. It would be easy to label her a romantic fool, he brooded. But he felt admiration and respect for her, coupled with the uneasy feeling that his chosen lifestyle of flitting from one meaningless affair to the next without any emotional involvement on his part was not in any way admirable.

‘Come on, mia bella,’ he murmured when he saw her eyelashes brush against her cheeks. ‘You need some rest.’ He was sure she must be feeling drained and she made no protest when he stood and carried her into the bedroom. He helped her slip out of her robe and get into bed before he undressed and slid in beside her. He had assumed she would fall straight to sleep, but when she snuggled up close and ran her fingers over his chest, following the path of hairs that arrowed down his stomach, he struggled to control the heated desire that swept through him.

He turned his head towards her and felt a curious tug on his insides when he looked into her beautiful violet eyes. ‘Are you sure you want this?’ he said thickly.

Rebekah nodded. She could not explain why confiding to Dante about Gareth’s terrible betrayal had been such a relief. It was as if something dark and festering had been exposed and she felt as though she could finally let go of the bitterness that had eaten away at her. She did not forgive Gareth—some things were unforgivable. And she would never ever forget her stillborn baby. But it was time to move forwards, time to allow the hurt to heal and embrace life once more. Dante made her feel alive, and his desire for her that she could see burning in his eyes gave her a sense of self-confidence that had been missing since she had fled from Wales two years ago.

‘I want you to make love to me,’ she whispered, and her heart leapt when, without another word, he bent his head and claimed her mouth in a slow, drugging kiss that quickly turned to fiery passion.

He trailed his lips over her throat, her breasts, and teased her nipples with his tongue until she shivered with delight. She curled her fingers in his silky black hair as he moved down and gently pushed her thighs apart so that he could arouse her with his fingers and mouth. And finally, when she was trembling on the brink, he lifted himself above her, groaning as her molten warmth welcomed him and urged him to fill her completely.

Afterwards she fell asleep with her head pillowed on his shoulder. But Dante lay awake long into the night, wondering what was happening to him, why making love to Rebekah had left him not only physically fulfilled but relaxed and content in a way he had never felt before. It begged the question—what the hell was happening to him? And more disturbing still was that he did not have an answer.

The hot Tuscan summer days slipped past inexorably, causing Rebekah a little pang when she thought about how many days and nights she had left with Dante. It was easier not to think, easier simply to enjoy his company and the friendship that had grown between them. His desire for her had shown no sign of abating and they made love every night with a passionate intensity that she found utterly irresistible.

‘Okay, I’ve got enough shots.’ Nicole’s voice drew Rebekah from her thoughts. ‘Can we eat now? The sight and smell of the food is making me feel ravenous.’

Rebekah laughed. ‘We’ll hang on for Dante and Vito to finish playing tennis and then we’ll have lunch. Knowing how competitively those two play, I think they’ll have worked up an appetite for Welsh Cawl.’

‘What is it, exactly?’ Nicole asked as she packed away her camera and tripod.

‘It’s a stew made with lamb and leeks and other root vegetables. Traditionally it was cooked in an iron pot over an open fire, but it works just as well cooking it in a casserole dish in the oven.

‘Shall we eat on the terrace?’ Rebekah asked as she collected plates and cutlery. ‘The pergola gives plenty of shade.’ She followed Nicole outside. The courtyard garden was baking, but beneath the pergola covered in grapevines and bright pink bougainvillea, it was slightly cooler.

‘You know, I can’t believe there are only two more recipes to make and photograph before the book is finished,’ she said as she flopped down onto a chair. ‘I’m amazed we’ve done so much in three weeks.’

‘And it’s great that the publishers offered a contract after you sent them the first few pages of recipes.’ Nicole smiled. ‘I can’t wait to see the book in the shops.’

‘I’m looking forward to showing it to my grandmother.’ Rebekah fell silent, her mind turning to Nana, who, according to her mother, was growing increasingly frail.

In one more week she would finish working her period of notice and be able to leave Tuscany and go home to Wales to visit her family. She felt a familiar dull ache in her chest when she contemplated leaving the Casa di Colombe, which she loved, and Dante, who, despite her best intentions, had become a serious threat to her heart.

It was his fault that she was becoming obsessed with him, she thought ruefully, her heart-rate quickening when she caught sight of him strolling back from the tennis courts with Nicole’s husband Vito. Both men were darkly tanned and good-looking but Dante’s height and easy grace and the chiselled perfection of his features made him especially eye-catching—something Rebekah was made aware of whenever they visited the nearby town of Montalcino and he was a magnet for female attention.

Nicole followed the direction of Rebekah’s gaze towards the men and gave her a speculative look. ‘So, what is your relationship with Dante? You can’t kid me any longer that you’re simply his cook.’ She grinned when Rebekah blushed. ‘Don’t get me wrong—I think it’s great if the two of you are involved. I was worried that Lara had scarred him for ever.’

Rebekah stiffened. ‘Who is Lara?’ she asked in a carefully casual voice.

‘Oh—I assumed he had told you …’ The American woman suddenly became evasive. ‘He knew Lara years ago when he was living in New York. That’s where I met him. He was friends with Vito, and then when I started dating Vito we all hung around together.’ In an obvious attempt to change the subject, Nicole said, ‘Why don’t you and Dante come to dinner with us at the weekend? It’s about time I cooked for you for a change.’

‘We can’t this weekend, I’m afraid.’ Dante’s deep voice sounded from behind Rebekah’s shoulder. He dropped into the seat next to her and gave her one of his sexy smiles that made her toes curl. ‘I’m taking Rebekah to Florence for a couple of days.’

‘You are?’ She flashed him a surprised look.

‘Uh-huh. We’ll be staying at a five-star hotel in the heart of the city within walking distance of the Duomo, the Campanile and the Uffizi Gallery, and we’ll eat at some of the best restaurants in the city. I think you deserve a break from cooking.’ His voice dropped to a husky drawl intended for Rebekah only. ‘Our room has a four-poster bed and I can’t promise we’ll do a lot of sightseeing, mia bella.’

She blushed and jumped up to begin serving the lunch. But she could not help darting Dante another glance and discovered he was watching her with a feral gleam in his eyes that filled her with excitement. On most days she worked on her recipes in the mornings and Nicole arrived to take photos for the cookery book while Dante played tennis or golf with Vito. They would all eat lunch together and in the afternoons, after the other couple had left, Dante would lead her upstairs and make love to her in his cool bedroom, where the sunlight filtered through the blinds and gilded their naked, entwined limbs.

They were lazy, golden days, and she was dreading the day when they would leave the Casa di Colombe and go their separate ways.

‘Why are you taking me to Florence?’ she asked him late that same afternoon, when they lay sprawled on his bed, breathing hard in the aftermath of a particularly wild sex session that had left her feeling astonished that her body could experience such intense pleasure.

‘Because you said you would like to visit the city.’ He could have made up an excuse, Dante mused. But what was the point? He had given up trying to rationalise why he enjoyed spending time with Rebekah—and not only in bed.

She had got under his skin. Sex with her was more fulfilling than with any of his previous mistresses, but he had also discovered that he liked talking to her and being in her company. She was interesting and her dry wit made him laugh. She also drove him mad at times because she could be sharp-tongued and prickly if she felt he was threatening her independence. Only yesterday, when they had driven into Montalcino, they’d had a fight over her refusal to allow him to pay for the traditional Tuscan clay cooking pots she’d picked up in the market.

She was a refreshing change from the usual women he dated who treated his wallet as their own personal bank, he mused. He was starting to wonder when his interest in her would fade. When they had arrived in Tuscany he had confidently expected that he would have got over his fascination with her by now. But instead he was contemplating asking her to come back to London with him at the end of the month, not to work as his chef, nor to be his mistress. If he was going to stand any chance of persuading her to give up the opportunity of working for Gaspard Clavier in St Lucia he realised he would have to offer her something more than a brief affair. The trouble was, he did not know what he wanted, and that unsettled him more than he cared to admit.