by Lynne Graham
Luca shrugged. ‘I’ve never been lonely in my life.’ He thought back with some fondness to the English boarding school he had attended for so many years. No, there had been no shortage of people in his life. Had he been lonely? He frowned, unwilling to give house room to that notion, which smacked of the sort of weakness he despised.
‘Were you close to any of your…er…stepmothers? How many were there?’
‘A few and no.’ He settled back on his elbows and stared up at a blue, blue sky. ‘I don’t believe there was a stepmother who didn’t turn out to be a piece of work. It’s a blessing my father’s been on his own for a couple of years now, although it might be a bit premature to say that he’s seen the light.’
‘You really love him, don’t you? For all his failings. Just something else we have in common!’
Luca looked at her thoughtfully. ‘Amazing,’ he murmured, ‘given the circumstances, that you are as upbeat and romantic as you are.’
‘You think I should be cynical and jaded?’
‘I’ve seen the trail of misery love has a habit of leaving in its wake. You call it cynical and jaded but I call it realistic. As far as I’m concerned, you look at life with your eyes wide open and you can escape most of its predictably unpleasant fallout.’
‘Which is why you like the thought of an arranged marriage…’
‘A suitable union between two people whose outlook on life is similar. Remind me why we’re talking about all of this…?’
‘Because it’s nice getting to know someone else. I know you won’t be around for much longer, but it’s still nice getting to know you.’
When was he actually going to go? He’d extended this visit far longer than was technically acceptable. He was a workaholic and, of course, this unforeseen break in the normal course of events had been fun, but it couldn’t continue.
And yet…he remembered the feel of her against him and his explosive reaction to her body, and the thought of jumping ship when he knew he should, which was just as soon as he could shove his clothes in a plastic bag and order a cab to the nearest airport, held little appeal.
‘And believe me,’ he murmured with heartfelt sincerity, ‘I would certainly like to get to know you better as well.’ It was a sign of creativity and a willingness to go with the flow that he was prepared to take a few more days out of his hectic schedule. In life, if something presented itself as a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, you grabbed it with both hands. This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
He smiled slowly.
‘Another week here isn’t going to hurt…is it?’ He reached forward and she leaned into him. He kissed her long and slow and Cordelia melted.
‘Another week,’ she sighed breathlessly, ‘would be great.’
‘And then we’ll bid our fond farewells. Deal?’
Something inside her stirred and she tore her eyes away from the puzzling void that opened up when she thought about him leaving.
She smiled. ‘Deal.’
CHAPTER FOUR
‘OF COURSE IF you want to go, if you feel you need to leave me when things are so busy here, then I can’t stand in your way. You’re a grown woman, Cordelia. You can do whatever you want to do and I understand that you need to get away for a while. Don’t blame you. What young thing wants to be cooped up with her old fool of a father?’
Under normal circumstances, Cordelia would have wilted under this flagrant emotional blackmail. Sitting across from her father at the pine table where they had just finished sharing a fraught supper, she took a deep breath, the sort of deep breath typical of someone determined to power on whatever the obstacles.
These were not normal circumstances and she didn’t have the luxury of succumbing to Clive Ramsey’s mournful blue eyes.
‘One week at the very most, Dad.’
She glanced down to the chips slowly going cold on her plate. She’d barely eaten. She shoved the plate to one side and leaned forward, elbows planted on the table.
Once upon a time, her father had been gloriously good-looking. A strapping man with the same white-blond hair as hers and light blue eyes. Time, grief and disappointments had changed all that and now, at the age of sixty-two, he was still lean and strong, but his face was lined, his hands gnarled from all the manual work he did, and his once erect frame was stooped. A tall man hiding away from life and it showed in the way he carried himself.
‘One week?’ He sighed and attempted a smile, which tugged every heartstring she had.
‘I know you think that once I’m gone, I’m never going to come back, but that won’t be the case.’ Cordelia thought of the trip she was about to make. If she lasted five minutes there, then she would be amazed. Nausea swamped her again and she shoved the plate with the now cold chips further away from her because the sight of the slowly congealing food was doing nothing for the state of her stomach.
Pregnant. How could it have happened? Her period, as regular as clockwork, had been ten days overdue before it had even occurred to her to do a pregnancy test. She had been living on her nerves ever since.
Luca had stayed on for a further week and then he had gone. The impact of his departure on her had been something she hadn’t foreseen. Yes, she had assumed that she would miss him because they had shared such a wonderful three weeks together. He had blown a hole in her orderly, predictable life and she’d known that it would take a while for normality to paper over his absence.
But she hadn’t expected the depth of those feelings of loss and wanting. She physically ached for him. She saw him in every room in the house and on every corner of every street in the little village, where he had become such a familiar sight that people asked after him when he’d gone.
And when she closed her eyes, his image took shape in her head with such clarity that she felt that if she tried hard enough, she would open her eyes and he would be there. Standing in front of her, so tall and so bronzed and so sinfully sexy.
He’d gone, though, and he hadn’t looked back. Not a text, not an email, not a phone call. Nothing. He’d warned her that he was just passing through and he’d cautioned her about getting emotionally involved with him and she’d nodded and agreed and said all the right things and had promptly done just the opposite of what he’d asked.
She’d laughed in the face of common sense and flung herself into a one-sided relationship with a guy who didn’t believe in love.
And now she was pregnant and it was like walking in a dense fog with her feet in treacle. Every thought about what happened next required such effort that she had spent the past few days just wanting to crawl into her bed and close her eyes and sleep for a hundred years.
As it had turned out, fate had had an excellent way of galvanising her into action. No taking time out to think things over! Or hiding under the duvet and pretending to be an ostrich!
‘And I don’t want you fretting that something’s going to happen to me,’ she said briskly, sweeping aside her fear of the big unknown and plastering a reassuring smile on her face.
Her father knew nothing about the pregnancy and that was something that she would broach in due course. When she reached the right levels of courage. That time was certainly not now.
‘Things happen,’ her father responded morosely. ‘We both know that.’
‘And we have to move on, Dad.’ God, she missed having her mum. She adored her dad, with all his endearing, frustrating, lovable little ways, but, Lord, what she wouldn’t have given for the emotional support of a mother, a hand to reach out and hold hers right now when she so desperately needed it.
‘You’re young. The wisdom of youth is fleeting. Take it from me. I’ll say no more except that I’ll miss you. Maybe you could leave a list of what needs to be done while you’re away.’
‘Ah.’ She paused and waited until her father was looking at her. ‘There won’t be any need for you to worry about
anything while I’m away, Dad.’
‘I’ll be out fishing all day.’ He frowned. ‘The haul is good just at the moment. I won’t have time to sort out that business with the rentals. And food. No, forget I said that. I can buy in some tins. Baked beans. Soup. You go and enjoy yourself, Cordy. You deserve it.’
Cordelia thought about the enjoyment lying in wait for her and shuddered. ‘Dad—’ she inhaled deeply ‘—you won’t have to worry about food or the rental because Doris is going to take care of all of that for you.’
She waited for the explosion. She almost closed her eyes. Doris Jones was her father’s arch enemy. Buxom, blonde and with a personality that could send strong men scurrying for cover, she had had her eye on Clive Ramsey’s business for as long as Cordelia could remember.
‘We could be a team,’ she had ventured years ago. ‘My three boats with yours. We could have ourselves a proper little business.’
Clive had been incandescent with rage at the bare-faced cheek of the woman. There and then, she had become his nemesis. As fate would have it, nemesis was going to be taking charge while Cordelia was away, whether her dad liked it or not.
Of course, if he refused to oblige, she told him once he had finished ranting and raving, which made a change from his stoic, barely concealed gloom, she would ditch her plans and stay put…because he certainly wouldn’t be able to cope on his own and she had no intention of spending her one week of the year when she should be relaxing worrying about him.
Cordelia knew that she was taking a gamble. If her father dug his heels in, then what was she going to do? Her ticket was all booked and even though this trip to Italy filled her with sickening apprehension, it was something that had to be done. For better or for worse, the guy who had vanished out of her life and hadn’t looked back would have to be told about the baby he had never expected to father.
Her father caved in.
‘It’ll be fine.’ She hugged him.
It’ll be fine for at least one of us, at any rate.
‘Don’t think I haven’t noticed you and Doris having a laugh now and again at the pub over a pint.’
Clive Ramsey flushed and he glared at his daughter. ‘A man can’t be rude all the time,’ he countered defensively.
She’d won this round. There was no way she intended to let on to her father that she had found herself between a rock and a hard place when it came to Doris. If life were a fairy tale, she would laugh at the crazy coincidence of being caught red-handed emerging from a bathroom clutching a pregnancy-testing box by the one person who shouldn’t have been anywhere near the area. But Doris had been there, larger than life and bursting with curiosity and she hadn’t given up asking questions until she’d got the truth. Cordelia could only console herself with the thought that at least her father would be well fed, if nothing else. Doris was well known for her pies.
‘So it’s agreed, then…’ She looked at him anxiously and she saw him visibly soften.
‘I don’t like it…’
‘Those rentals need to be sorted. I know the timing’s awful, but I had no idea…’
No idea that I was going to find myself carrying a child…that all that longing to see new places would end up as a nightmare journey to deliver a message that was definitely not going to brighten Luca Baresi’s day…
‘I had no idea that that problem would blow up like a squall, just after I’d booked to go away on the spur of the moment.’
‘Well, Ireland isn’t a million miles away, I suppose. And I know you’ve been wanting to do a little research into your mum’s family tree.’
Cordelia didn’t say anything but her fingers were tightly crossed behind her back.
She never ever lied and certainly would never have dreamt of lying to her dad, but the truth, laid bare, would have turned his already grey hair even greyer.
There was only so much she could deal with just at the moment and telling her father the whole truth and nothing but the truth, and then having to deal with the fallout, had felt like a step too far.
She smiled weakly. ‘I promise it’s going to be all right.’ She was tempted to burst into manic laughter because from where she was sitting there was very little chance that anything was going to be all right in the foreseeable future. ‘I’m going away and maybe we should both see that as the start of a changing future. For both of us. Maybe it’ll do you good to not have me around. Now, I’m going to pack. I have a taxi booked to take me to the airport and it’ll be coming very early, so I’ll say goodbye now and poke my head in your bedroom in the morning if you’re not already up.’ She could see tears gathering in the corners of his eyes and her heart restricted.
She had to go. She’d meant what she’d said about changes. Everything was changing and for someone who had spent a lifetime harnessed to the yoke of duty and responsibility, the changes were terrifying.
The future was sprawled in front of her with a frightening lack of certainty. She’d spent her life yearning for what lay out there, beyond the small confines of the village where she lived, and now a door had been opened but for all the wrong reasons and what lay behind that door was not, she felt, going to be the wonderful adventure she had always hoped for.
One week, though, and she would have had the conversation she had to have, then she would be back, and at least she would have seen somewhere different, breathed in different air, looked at a different landscape.
She would have to keep her fingers crossed that she could handle everything that came in between.
* * *
‘There’s someone here asking for you.’
Luca looked up from where he had been scrolling through his emails on his computer to the elderly man who had ambled into his office without knocking and was now in the process of straightening everything on his desk, clucking disapprovingly under his breath.
‘Roberto…’ Luca controlled a sigh because the man had been a loyal retainer since the dawn of time and if he was now in his early eighties, with a meandering mind and prone to forgetting that there was an army of stalwart help paid to do what might once have been part of his job, then so be it. ‘There’s no need to tidy the desk. I know where everything is. At any rate, I’m busy so anyone wanting to see me will have to make an appointment through the usual channels.’ He had two PAs. One handled matters of a more confidential nature, the other handled anything that required interfacing with non-Italian clients, of which there were very many.
PAs…hired help…three-course meals that appeared as if by magic…a social life that left very little free time, especially now that the presumption of nuptials with Isabella lay thick in the air, even though nothing had been formally announced. Recently he’d felt as though he had to make time in his packed diary to breathe.
He frowned and restlessly pushed himself away from his desk and waited until Roberto had straightened everything to his satisfaction.
‘Never used to be that way,’ Roberto responded, shaking his head sadly. ‘There was always time for a face-to-face meeting. A chat. Everybody knew everybody. It was a family.’
‘Times change.’ Luca had heard all this before. Naturally, he couldn’t interface with everyone who worked for him! His winery employed very many people, kept two villages in employment, practically! There wasn’t a human being who could keep track of every single person who might show up unannounced on the doorstep. ‘I haven’t got time to see anyone at the moment. Now, is that all?’
‘So I’ll show her in, shall I?’
Luca flung both hands in the air and gave up. He had zero curiosity as to the identity of his visitor. Theoretically his door was always open to any of his employees. In practice, the door was largely shut and, when ajar, was ferociously guarded by PA number one, who made sure that his time was uninterrupted by anything of a remotely trivial nature. If it could be sorted outside the hallowed walls of his office, which sprawle
d across one of the wings of his grand house, then it was. Rosa saw to that. Sadly, Rosa was on a one week vacation and, for some reason, Luca had not wanted the annoyance of a temp because there was no way Sonya, his tri-lingual PA, could be spared to waste time for a week doing bits of grunt work.
Unfortunately, without Rosa around, Luca could see that irritating interruptions were not going to be headed off at the pass. At least, not if Roberto happened to be unofficial gatekeeper.
‘Five minutes,’ he huffed, all but tapping his watch to make sure Roberto got the message loud and clear. ‘And then you’re to come and remove whoever I happen to be with.’
‘Very rude, sir, when someone is kind enough to call by for a chat.’
‘But essential. Five minutes, Roberto!’
Luca had doubts as to whether these instructions would be obeyed. He would have to control the urge to snap were they to be ignored. His temper, always ruthlessly controlled, had been far too much in evidence ever since he had returned from that brief sojourn on the Cornish coast and he had no idea why.
What he did know was that the lack of control infuriated him.
He waited until Roberto had shuffled off and then he swivelled his chair to face the massive bay window, frowning and staring out towards a vista that was impressive by anyone’s standards.
He barely noticed the mansion in which he lived. It was there. Ancient, beautiful, vast, handed down through the generations. Huge tracts of it were unused simply because there were so many rooms. Walls were adorned with exquisite paintings that were seldom seen. There were priceless rugs upon which no feet ever trod and windows were flung open in rooms simply to let in a bit of fresh air before they were shut again and those very rooms remained silent and empty until they were aired again.
His own quarters, done to the highest of standards, were far more modern, as was the four-bedroomed annexe in which his father lived when he wasn’t travelling, as he was now, hopefully not on the lookout for another unsuitable wife. Personally, Luca couldn’t abide the heaviness of all that traditional décor that characterised most of his estate but he didn’t care enough to do anything about it.