At Dante's Service

by Chantelle Shaw

  Close up, she was a few years older than Rebekah had thought, perhaps in her early thirties. But, if anything, she was even more stunning than she had looked from a distance, with a model’s slim build, perfect hair, perfect tan—perfect everything, in fact.

  ‘Hi! You must be Rebekah?’ the woman said in a distinctive American accent. ‘I’m Nicole Sayer … duh …’ she tutted impatiently ‘… Castelli! I’ve only been married for two months and I keep forgetting to use my new name. My husband Vito and I are old friends of Dante’s.’ She finally paused for breath and held out her hand to Rebekah. ‘It’s great to meet you. I was so surprised when Dante phoned and said he was bringing someone to Tuscany with him. He never has before.’ She gave Rebekah a speculative look. ‘I guess the two of you must be good friends.’

  Rebekah felt herself blush. ‘Actually, I’m his cook.’ She suddenly remembered why the woman’s name was familiar. ‘You’re a photographer, aren’t you? I’m writing a cookery book based on my grandmother’s recipes, and Dante mentioned that you might take photographs for me.’

  Nicole’s smile held genuine warmth. ‘I’d love to. I used to work as a freelance photographer in New York, but now Vito and I have settled in Italy. I’m going to head back to my home in Siena,’ Nicole explained as she turned to walk out of the room, ‘but I’ll be in touch in the next couple of days to arrange a photo shoot.

  ‘By the way—’ she paused in the doorway ‘—I’ve hung the clothes that Dante ordered for you in the wardrobe.’

  Rebekah gave her a puzzled look. ‘What clothes?’

  Nicole crossed the room and pulled open the wardrobe door. ‘These,’ she said, indicating the array of outfits hanging from the rail. She took out a beautiful jade-green silk dress and gave Rebekah a teasing smile. ‘You must be a very special cook for Dante to buy you designer clothes.’

  Rebekah took a pale pink silk blouse from the rail. All the clothes were classical and elegant, in an array of pretty pastel colours. They were the sort of things she would love to wear if she could afford them.

  ‘There’s obviously been a mistake,’ she told Nicole. ‘I don’t know why Dante ordered these clothes, but they can’t be for me.’

  Nicole looked amused. ‘Maybe he wanted to surprise you.’

  Or maybe Dante had bought her dozens of new outfits for another reason, Rebekah thought grimly after Nicole had left and she went in search of him. His bedroom door was open, and as she looked into the room he strolled out of his bathroom wearing nothing more than a towel sitting low on his hips. His damp hair was slicked back from his brow and beads of moisture clung to his chest hairs.

  She tapped on the door to alert him to her presence and tried to ignore the tug on her insides when he smiled at her.

  ‘Did you meet Nicole? She came up to introduce herself.’

  ‘Yes, I met her. She seemed to think the clothes hanging in my wardrobe belong to me—paid for by you.’

  ‘That’s right. Do you like them?’

  Rebekah took a deep breath. Her heart was beating very fast and she felt confused and angry, and shaken by a memory that was still painfully raw.

  ‘I can’t accept them. I can’t allow you to buy me gifts.’

  Dante picked up a towel from the bed and rubbed his wet hair. ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because you can’t buy me,’ she told him fiercely.

  He stilled, and gave her a searching look. His smile faded and his eyes were cool and assessing. ‘What do you mean—buy you?’

  ‘Don’t think that because you’ve spent a fortune on me I’ll do what you want.’

  For a few seconds the atmosphere in the room trembled with an ominous silence.

  ‘And what do you think I want?’ he asked in a dangerous voice that sent a shiver down Rebekah’s spine.

  She crossed her arms over her chest in an unconsciously defensive gesture as she said, ‘For me to be your mistress while we are in Tuscany.’

  ‘You think I bought you the clothes in payment for sex? What kind of man do you think I am?’ He gave a savage laugh. ‘On second thoughts, don’t answer that question—you’ve made your opinion of me quite clear.’

  Dante could not have sounded hurt, Rebekah told herself. But what if she had misjudged him? She bit her lip. ‘Are you saying you didn’t buy them for that reason?’ she asked uncertainly.

  He threw the towel on the bed and strode towards her. Rebekah had never seen him so furious. His face looked as though it had been carved from granite and his eyes glittered with rage and bitter contempt. Too late, she feared she had made a terrible mistake.

  ‘How dare you insult my integrity?’ he said in a blisteringly angry tone. ‘The only reason I bought clothes for you is because I felt bad that I had sprung the trip to Tuscany on you at short notice. I thought it was unlikely you would own summer clothes suitable for the temperatures here in Italy. But you were too unwell to spend a day shopping in London, so I phoned a boutique in Siena and ordered some things for you.’

  His hands shot out to grip her arms and he jerked her against him. ‘I wasn’t trying to buy your favours,’ he grated. ‘I don’t need to, mia bella.’

  Realising his intention, Rebekah tried to twist her head away from him, but he captured her jaw and held her prisoner while he brought his mouth down on hers. It was a kiss of anger and wounded pride. He ground her lips beneath his in fierce, furious possession, tangling his fingers in her hair so that she could not escape the onslaught.

  But within seconds his anger turned to fiery passion that was far more dangerous. She gasped as he thrust his tongue into her mouth. Dante deepened the kiss so that it became a slow, drugging assault on her senses. She knew there was no point in trying to fight him when he was so much bigger and stronger than her, but suddenly his lips were no longer hard and demanding but softer as he coaxed a response from her. Rebekah did not realise he had steered her over to the bed until she felt the edge of the mattress behind her and, before she could protest, he tumbled her down and immediately covered her body with his own.

  She caught her breath when he shoved her T-shirt up. She hadn’t bothered with a bra when she had changed after her shower and she blushed as he stared at her bare breasts and the betraying hard peaks of her nipples.

  ‘You don’t need much persuading,’ he taunted. ‘I could take you right now, cara, and you wouldn’t stop me.’ His voice roughened. ‘How could you think I would treat you so disrespectfully?’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ Rebekah said thickly. She knew she owed him an explanation, but she had never told anyone what Gareth had done, not even her mum. She closed her eyes to prevent her tears from escaping, unaware that Dante had glimpsed the sparkle of moisture clinging to her lashes and that his anger had been replaced by a curious ache in his chest.

  She’d had no reason to think Dante would behave so crassly, Rebekah acknowledged heavily. He might be a playboy but he had a code of morals and he had always treated her with the utmost respect.

  ‘Someone once tried to pay me to do something that I couldn’t do—something that was terribly wrong,’ she choked, aware from Dante’s confused expression that she wasn’t making a lot of sense.

  ‘You mean a guy offered to pay you for sex?’

  ‘No … it wasn’t like that.’

  When Rebekah did not continue Dante felt a surge of frustration. He wanted to demand that she tell him what it had been like—what had she meant? Why had she jumped to conclusions and thought the worst of him?

  ‘It has something to do with the guy in Wales, doesn’t it?’ he guessed. He sighed as he lowered her T-shirt and smoothed her hair back from her face. ‘But I take it from your silence that you don’t want to talk about it.’

  ‘Sometimes it’s best to leave the past alone.’ She gave him a wobbly smile. ‘Dante, I am truly sorry. The clothes are beautiful, and it was such a kind gesture, but …’ Rebekah gave him an awkward, apologetic glance. ‘I would prefer to pay for them myself.’

  He lif
ted himself off her and stood up. ‘We’ll discuss it later. Did you find the kitchen?’

  ‘Yes.’ She took a shaky breath when she realised he was not going to pursue the reason why she had accused him so unfairly. ‘It’s fantastic—and the fridge is well stocked. We won’t need to go shopping for a few days.’

  ‘Good. So what time is dinner?’ Dante kept his tone deliberately light and was relieved to see her relax a little.

  ‘Oh, heavens! I forgot to put the chicken in the oven.’ Rebekah scrambled off the bed. ‘I’d better go and do it now.’

  She hurried across the room but hesitated in the doorway and turned to look at Dante. She felt terrible about the awful way she had treated him and she felt angry and upset with herself that she was still allowing Gareth and the past to affect her. She needed to forget about him, but some things could never be forgotten, she thought painfully.

  ‘I don’t object to you being in my room—’ Dante’s deep voice dragged her from her thoughts ‘—but I’m about to get dressed—which means this towel is coming off.’

  As he spoke he moved his hands to the towel draped around his hips. Rebekah swallowed as she traced her eyes over the dark hairs that arrowed down his flat abdomen and disappeared beneath the towel which she noticed was totally inadequate to hide the fact that he was aroused.

  For a moment she was desperately tempted to retrace her steps across the room and remove the towel for him. But if she made love with him again wouldn’t it just complicate their relationship even more? Her eyes flew to his face and she caught her breath when she saw the sensual heat in his silvery gaze.

  ‘You have thirty seconds to leave, cara, or we won’t be eating that chicken until midnight,’ he said roughly.

  Rebekah did not need a second warning, and fled!

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  THEY had dinner that evening on the terrace which overlooked lush green farmland and fields of tall ripe corn that rippled like a golden lake. In the distance the mountains towered majestically, their jagged outline softened by the mellow light as the sun sank slowly beneath the horizon.

  The panoramic view was breathtaking. ‘It’s like a painting by one of the Old Masters,’ Rebekah commented as she sat with her chin propped on her hand and drank in the beauty of the Tuscan landscape. ‘How can you ever bear to leave this place?’

  ‘I enjoy a busy life in London, a demanding career and good social life, but I must admit I miss the tranquillity of the Casa di Colombe.’ Dante took a sip of the particularly good red wine that was made from grapes grown on his estate. ‘One day I’ll move here permanently and learn to make wine and press olives—’ he slanted a smile at her ‘—perhaps even learn how to cook as well as you do. The dinner you made tonight was divine.’

  ‘I’m glad you enjoyed it.’ Rebekah gave a contented sigh as she drained her glass of pomegranate juice. Her fear that things would be strained between her and Dante after she had reacted so badly about the clothes he had bought her had been unfounded. During dinner he had been a charming and entertaining companion and had made her laugh with his dry humour. She had slowly started to feel relaxed and been fascinated when he had told her more of the history of the house and when it had been a monastery hundreds of years ago.

  ‘Where I come from in North Wales is beautiful too, and we have mountains. You can see Snowdon from my parents’ farm,’ she told him. Her expression grew wistful. ‘I think home is where the heart is—where the people you love are.’

  ‘I guess there’s some truth in that,’ Dante agreed. His grandmother had lived here in Tuscany, and perhaps that was why he loved this house so much. But Lara hadn’t liked it here. She had found the quiet, remote location boring and on the couple of occasions she had visited Nonna with him she had been impatient to get back to the city. He should have realised they were too different for their relationship to have succeeded, he thought heavily.

  He glanced at Rebekah, noting how the last golden rays of the sun burnished her hair so that it looked like a stream of shimmering silk, and he felt a peculiar sensation, as if his insides had twisted.

  ‘Tell me about your family. How many brothers did you say you have?’

  ‘Seven—there’s Owen, Aled, Cai, Bryn, Huw, Morgan and Rhys, who is the baby, only he’s twenty-two now. My mother is from a big family too and I am the seventh child of a seventh child, which, according to my grandmother, means I have the sixth sense. But I don’t believe in superstition. If I possessed psychic powers I would surely have known about Gareth,’ Rebekah said unthinkingly. She flushed when Dante shot her an intent look.

  ‘Gareth, I take it, is the Welsh ex-boyfriend. What would you have known about him?’

  Strangely, Rebekah discovered that she wanted to talk to Dante about what had happened.

  ‘That he was having an affair with my best friend and chief bridesmaid.’

  ‘You mean you were engaged?’ Dante did not know why he was so surprised. Presumably, if she had been hoping to marry her boyfriend she had been in love with him. Was she still? he wondered.

  ‘For five years. But we had been dating for longer than that. We met at school, Gareth lived on the farm close to my home and we grew up together. I thought I knew him. I thought we would always be together and have a long and happy marriage like my parents—’ she swallowed ‘—but it turned out that I never knew him at all.’

  ‘It must have been a shock when you discovered your fiancé had been unfaithful.’ Dante frowned. Had Rebekah felt the same gut-wrenching sense of betrayal that had ripped through him when Lara had confessed she had been sleeping with another man? He had heard the lingering hurt in her voice. Irrationally, he wished he could meet the Welsh farmer and connect his fist with the guy’s jaw. ‘So what happened—how did you find out?’

  ‘He confessed that he didn’t want to marry me two weeks before the wedding.’ She could not bring herself to tell Dante of the painful event that had prompted Gareth to admit he did not love her, she thought bleakly.

  She sighed. ‘I had no idea that Gareth had secretly been seeing Claire for months. In retrospect, things hadn’t been right between us for a while, but I was so busy with the wedding preparations and I assumed that once we were married our relationship would go back to how it had been. I couldn’t believe it when he admitted that he and Claire were having an affair. But it explained a lot,’ she said wryly.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  She shrugged. ‘Before we split up Gareth had lost interest in … well—’ she flushed ‘—the physical side of our relationship. I knew he was working hard, and all relationships go through flat patches. I felt he didn’t find me attractive any more and I put it down to the fact that I’d put on a few pounds. Being around food all day tends to be bad for your waistline,’ she said ruefully, remembering how confused and humiliated she had felt when Gareth had regularly fallen asleep in front of the television when she had been desperate for him to take her to bed. ‘I should have guessed that he didn’t want to have sex with me because he was having it with someone else.’

  Dante nodded, as if he understood, which puzzled her because she did not see how he could know how it felt to be rejected. It was not something a handsome millionaire was likely to experience, she thought.

  ‘Infidelity and the betrayal of trust can be devastating,’ he said harshly.

  Rebekah stared at him, taken aback by his statement and the bitterness she had heard in his voice. How could a self-confessed playboy understand the pain caused by hearing that someone you loved had been unfaithful?

  ‘Are you saying that from the point of view of the betrayer or the betrayed?’

  He did not reply, and his shuttered expression gave no clue to his thoughts. But then he said tautly, ‘Let’s just say I learned the hard way that men and women are drawn together by lust but our so-called civilised society insists on romanticising what is essentially just a physical need and calling it love.’

  ‘So you don’t believe in the concept
of everlasting love?’

  ‘Do you, after the man you loved and were expecting to marry turned out to be a liar and a cheat?’

  She turned away from Dante and watched the dying rays of the sun streak the sky with fiery flames of pink and orange. The beauty of it touched her soul and with a little flare of pain she thought how heartbreaking it was that her child had never seen a sunset.

  She was shocked by the realisation that Dante must have been hurt in the past. She had believed him to be a womaniser who had no interest in meaningful relationships—a perception he promoted because it was what he wanted people to believe, she thought with a flash of insight. She was curious about the identity of the woman who had hurt him, and wondered if he had loved her. For some reason the idea evoked a needle-dart of pain inside her.

  ‘I do believe in love,’ she said quietly. ‘I see it in my parents’ eyes when they look at each other. They haven’t had an easy life; the farm has never earned much money. But Mum and Dad have weathered the storms together and they’re devoted to each other. I had a bad experience with Gareth, and I admit that for a while I thought I would never want to risk being hurt again. But I don’t want to be alone all my life, and one day I hope I’ll have a relationship with someone that leads to marriage and a family.’

  She glanced at him. In the rapidly fading light he looked so stern and remote that it was hard to believe he had ever allowed anyone into his heart, and she sensed that he would not do so again.

  ‘Can you really be happy having one meaningless affair after another?’ she murmured.

  Perfectly happy, Dante assured himself, refusing to acknowledge the traitorous thought that for the past couple of months he had felt a growing sense of restlessness and discontentment with his life. It was pure coincidence that this feeling had begun soon after he had employed his new chef.