by T A Williams
Claudio gave a little nod of agreement. ‘Certainly, signora. And we’ll send your luggage up directly.’
‘I’ll show you to your room, Emma, if you like.’ Mark glanced across at Claudio. ‘She’s in the Verdi suite, isn’t she?’ The manager nodded again and handed Mark the key. Emma smiled.
‘You’ve given the rooms operatic names?’
‘Yes, as a little salute to my grandfather. He was a lovely man.’ There was a touch of sorrow in his voice, but the smile returned almost immediately. ‘You’re on the top floor, so we’ll take the lift.’
Emma’s room was enormous and delightful. In fact it was effectively two rooms, divided by a charming Japanese-style screen. In the main part there was an elegant modern sofa and two armchairs, a massive television, and picture windows looking out over the park. Emma followed Carmen the dog over to the window, which was streaming with water as the rainstorm outside intensified. As she stood there, she heard Mark’s voice at her ear.
‘You’ll have to take my word for it that there’s a terrific view right across the valley to Gubbio and onwards towards the peaks of the Apennines beyond.’
‘It’s amazing as it is.’ In spite of the torrential rain, Emma found herself gazing down onto a pastoral scene with meadows sloping towards an ornamental lake with what looked like a couple of ducks or geese bobbing happily up and down in it. She turned back to face him. ‘It’s charming.’
‘Come and see if you approve of the rest of the room. I need your honest opinion. You are a guinea pig, after all.’
Emma walked past the screen into the sleeping area. There was an enormous king-size bed, a clearly antique dresser and matching wardrobe, and a door through which she could see a pristine all-white bathroom.
‘It’s beautiful, Mark. I love it, although I’ll probably get lost in this enormous bed.’
And then, suddenly, an all-consuming vision of the two of them lying naked across the bed, entwined in each other’s arms, filled her head and she even felt her cheeks begin to colour. Once again she did her best to give herself a stern talking-to. She was a thirty-five-year-old woman, not a giddy teenager, for God’s sake.
‘I’m glad you like it. You deserve it. Nothing but the best for you…’ His tone was warm and caring and she felt her heart begin to melt. But then he added a single word that dampened her ardour. ‘…boss.’
He turned and headed for the door, leaving her still struggling to recover from the wave of emotion – or, more accurately, lust – that had swept over her. As he reached it, he looked round.
‘After you’ve had your tea, if you’d like to come over to my house, I could offer you a glass of wine, maybe?’ She nodded mutely. ‘Claudio will show you where it is.’
He and the dog were already halfway through the door when she finally gathered her wits enough to say thank you.
Chapter 13
A few minutes after Mark had left her room, there was a tap at the door and her luggage arrived. She was still wondering whether to tip the porter when he gave her a smile and left again before she had a chance. She took her laptop from her bag, sat down on the sofa, and tried to do some work. It wasn’t easy. Her mind and, if she was honest, her whole body were still recovering from the thrill of attraction and plain unadulterated lust that had shot through her. And, she repeated to herself over and over again, it wasn’t as if Mark had done anything to set her off. In fact, he probably hadn’t been aware of anything. She rather hoped he hadn’t. Simply his presence beside her and that enormous bed had been enough to reduce her from an intelligent, efficient, switched-on Hollywood executive to a pathetic, helpless wreck, incapable of rational thought.
The logic of her position was inescapable, so why wouldn’t her brain just accept it? He had displayed no interest in her, apart from general friendship. He hadn’t made any suggestive remarks or thinly veiled hints. He was clearly still trying to come to terms with the loss of the love of his life, whoever that had been, and, besides, the unavoidable fact was that he and she would soon be on opposite sides of the globe. It would be highly unprofessional, and frankly crazy, for her to give in to her base animal desires. Mind you, the fact was that she hadn’t given in to her base animal desires for quite a while now and there was no doubt her body knew what it wanted, even if her brain was trying to think otherwise.
She went into the bathroom and ran herself a bath. As she lay in the soapy water, she turned over and over in her head just what she should do. Yes – she was now prepared to admit it to herself – the idea of jumping into bed with Mark was very, very inviting, even though the relationship would inevitably be brief and destined for disaster. She had never before been of the ‘better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all’ mindset, but maybe she should rethink that and throw caution to the wind. No sooner did that thought cross her mind than she realised it was just plain crazy.
First, he probably wouldn’t be interested, and she would just make a fool of herself if she flung herself at him. Second, as he had underlined a few minutes ago, she was sort of his boss, albeit temporarily. And, third, promotion and a massive step up in her career rested upon her completing this location-scouting trip successfully and without any hiccups. Propositioning one of her staff would certainly fall into the serious hiccup category – if not the projectile vomiting category – if he took it the wrong way. Regretfully, she climbed out of the bath and towelled herself down before changing into a smart dress – not, she told herself firmly, for Mark’s benefit, but simply as this villa was a very smart sort of place. After a quick glance in the mirror, she went down for tea in the orangery. Not surprised in the least to find herself all on her own, she spent an inordinate amount of time trying not to feel jealous of Marina and Rich. She hoped they were enjoying their ‘rest’.
By the time she had finished her tea, limiting herself to just one small piece of the enticing freshly baked sponge cake offered to her, Emma was pleased to see that the rain had stopped. She checked her watch and was mildly surprised to see that it was already half past five. As she did so, she heard voices and saw Marina and Rich come into the orangery looking full of beans. Emma did her very best to produce a warm smile without a hint of jealousy.
‘Hi, guys, the rain’s stopped.’
‘Yes, we saw that, the sky’s clearing. At least that means Ethan shouldn’t have any trouble landing in Perugia.’
Marina cast a covetous eye at the sponge cake and, as she did so, the waitress appeared and offered tea or coffee and, of course, cake. They both chose coffee and big pieces of cake and were out of there within ten minutes. Marina clearly wasn’t taking any chances with traffic hold-ups. She knew better than to keep a Hollywood heart-throb waiting.
Not long after they left, Emma went out to the lobby, and the porter pointed out the way to Mark’s house. He gave her an umbrella, ‘just in case’, but there were already big blue patches in the sky above and the clouds were rapidly changing from grey to white. After the rain, the countryside was already getting back to normal and swallows were wheeling high above her. The sound of water dripping around her was all-pervasive and she wondered how long it would take the ground to soak it up and return to its former arid state.
To get to Mark’s house, she followed a stone-paved path around the side of the villa to the rear where an enclosed courtyard had obviously once been home to horses and carriages. Now there were just a handful of cars, presumably belonging to the staff, and a lovely old red sports car in the far corner alongside a far scruffier little Fiat. Just behind this was the door that the porter had indicated. There was an anonymous bell alongside it, so she pressed it and hoped. A second later, she heard a single woof and then the sound of footsteps running down the stairs towards the door.
‘Hi, Emma. Thanks for coming. Carmen, be a good girl and leave Emma alone. She’s wearing a smart dress.’ Mark glanced at Emma and grinned. ‘In fact, a very smart dress. You look great. Is this for the benefit of the Hollywood star?’
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Emma was very pleased he liked it, but she didn’t want him to think she had put it on for Ethan – or indeed for his sake. Instead, she bent down to pet the dog and just produced a throwaway line. ‘I always dress like this in five-star hotels.’
‘Well, my house isn’t exactly five star, I’m afraid. All our energies have been directed at renovating the villa so far this year. This place is next on the list, but it’ll do for now. Come on up. It’s not luxurious, but I like it, and it already feels like my home.’
As Emma emerged from the top of the old staircase, she immediately fell in love with Mark’s house. It might not have been five-star luxury, but it was absolutely charming and redolent with history. The ceiling was supported by big wooden beams and the floor was covered in old terracotta tiles, so ancient in fact that the joists supporting it had clearly sagged over the years and the floor now undulated in gentle waves. The stairway emerged into a huge open-plan living space with a kitchen area to one side incorporating a farmhouse table, and a large lounge on the opposite side with sofas and armchairs. A door at the far end presumably led to Mark’s bedroom but Emma was under no illusions that it would be very, very risky to go in there – not because of Mark, but because of her.
Clearing her suddenly dry throat, she turned to Mark. ‘I love it. What a lovely big open space.’ She indicated the kitchen. ‘Do you cook?’
He nodded. ‘Yes, more than you’d think. Claudio keeps telling me I should go and eat over at the hotel, but I know that would be a slippery slope. I’ve managed to lure a terrific chef away from Perugia to come and work here, and the stuff he prepares in amazing. Hopefully you’ll agree when you sample dinner tonight. A few months or years of eating like that and I’d end up looking like the Michelin man. No, I do a lot of my own stuff, mainly salads at this time of year. When the weather dries up, I’ll show you our walled vegetable garden. We grow as much of the produce we use as we can, and it’s good, with no nasty chemicals. As the Italians say, it’s genuino.’
While he was talking, Carmen came across and leant against Emma’s bare legs. She bent down to ruffle the dog’s fur and, in response, the Labrador slowly slid down until she was lying stretched out on the floor, tail beating softly on the tiles. This did not go unnoticed by her master.
‘I told you she liked pretty girls.’
‘She’s a very pretty girl herself.’
‘What can I get you to drink? Cold beer? Or maybe you’d like a gin and tonic? Or there’s wine, made here on the estate. The cold rosé’s really pretty good.’
Although a gin and tonic sounded appealing, Emma knew there was only one answer to an offer like that, so she opted for the local wine. As he went over to the kitchen to open a bottle, she left the dog sprawled on the floor and wandered round the room, looking at paintings on the walls and photos in frames. There were several of an elderly couple, presumably Mark’s grandparents; a touching one of a young couple with a little boy who had to be his poor dead parents with a very young Mark, but no sign of anybody who could be described as the love of his life. Maybe he kept her photos – if he had any – in his bedroom or just on his phone.
‘Here, cheers, and thanks for coming.’
She took the glass from him and clinked it against his. ‘Cheers and thank you.’ She tasted the wine and gave him a thumbs up. ‘That’s excellent. I love it. And I also love your Alfa Romeo out there – I presume it’s yours. I’ve always had a thing for classic cars but I’ve never been able to afford one. Have you had it long?’
‘Me personally, only since my granddad died. He left it to me along with the villa. He bought it new almost fifty years ago and it was his pride and joy. I don’t use it that often as I’m scared of scratching it. I’m sure he’d never forgive me. I tend to use the little Fiat Panda out there.’
Emma rolled her eyes. ‘You have a classic sports car and you don’t use it. Shame on you.’
He grinned. ‘I tell you what, let’s you and I go out in it sometime this weekend.’
She grinned back. ‘It’s a deal.’ And the idea of going off alone with him was definitely alluring.
As she spoke, a ray of evening sunshine cut across the room as the clouds continued to retreat. Seeing it, Mark made a suggestion.
‘It’s pretty warm in here, isn’t it? I could switch on the aircon or, if you like, we could go out onto the loggia.’
‘The loggia?’
‘Very traditional around here and in Tuscany. Many of the old houses have them. It’s a covered terrace where there’s normally a bit of a breeze, but it provides shelter from the sun.’
‘Sounds great. Lead on.’
To her perturbation, he led her down the room to the door at the far end. This opened into a corridor and the first door they passed was unquestionably his bedroom. His bag was resting on the big double bed and a towel was hanging on the window handle. She took a deep breath and told her body to keep walking. Thankfully, her legs obeyed.
At the end of the corridor was a glazed door and through it they stepped out into the loggia. The roof with its massive timber trusses was supported by hefty brick pillars, and there was a table and chairs in the middle. The view was stunning. As the rain clouds rolled away, the panorama down and across the valley had suddenly opened up. Gubbio was now laid out quite clearly in all its glory as a mass of red roofs hugging the hillside and Emma’s eyes were immediately drawn to what looked like a huge square castle with crenellated battlements quite high up the slope, alongside an open piazza. Mark came up beside her and followed the direction of her eyes.
‘That’s the Palazzo dei Consoli, built at the time of my ancestor Graziella. As I told you, she was a very erudite woman. I would love to think she had a hand in designing it.’ He was so close that Emma could hear him breathing. The effect this had on her was to make her stop breathing entirely and it came as a considerable relief when he stepped back and pointed to the chairs. ‘Do sit down, please.’
Inhaling gratefully, she sat down opposite him and took a big mouthful of wine. She felt a movement under the table and then a warm, hairy body plonked itself down on her feet. She reached down to scratch Carmen’s ears, glad to have something else upon which to concentrate her attention.
‘Looks like you’ve definitely made a friend there, Emma. Carmen doesn’t often take to people so quickly. She can obviously tell you’re special.’
Emma glanced up. This sounded almost like flirting and another surge of longing flowed through her. She very nearly downed the remains of her glass of wine in one, but her brain finally came to the rescue in the nick of time. Alcohol would only make matters worse… much worse. She did her best to sound normal as she replied.
‘We always had dogs at home. Maybe she senses something. Mind you, she might just like the smell of my new shoes. I bought them in Turin.’
‘And very smart they are, too.’
This time he sounded just a bit too formal and she found herself wondering if he, too, was affected by the intimacy of the two of them being alone together only a few steps from his big double bed. She took another sip of wine and decided to steer the conversation onto less charged matters.
‘You’re a very lucky man to be able to live here. This house is gorgeous, the villa’s amazing and from what I’ve seen of Umbria so far, it’s a delightful area.’
As he answered, he sounded almost relieved to be back to small talk. ‘If you feel like it, we can do a little tour of places like Urbino and Assisi, or even drive down to Orvieto one of these days before we head off northwards to Bologna.’
‘That sounds lovely.’ A thought struck her. ‘Although our illustrious guests may prefer to keep a low profile. We’ll have to ask them.’
‘If they want to stay here, there’s plenty to do on the estate. There’s the pool and a tennis court, as well as walks and a good run around the perimeter. You said you played tennis, didn’t you?’ Emma nodded. ‘Well, you and I must have a game some time. I’m getting very rusty.’
Plane just landed. We should be back in half an hour. M
As Emma relayed the message to Mark, she found herself thinking of ways to while away thirty minutes in Mark’s company. The possibilities were stimulating and her throat turned dry again. However, as it turned out, he had another suggestion which was far less tantalising, but no doubt much more sensible.
‘As we’ve got a little spare time, why don’t we take Carmen for W-A-L-K?’ He grinned at her over the rim of his glass. ‘She understands the word in both languages. And don’t worry about your shoes. We can stay on the paths where it won’t be muddy.’
Swallowing a feeling of disappointment, followed by the rest of the wine in her glass, Emma stood up and collected the empty glasses to take them back to the kitchen. As she did so, the rational portion of her brain – which appeared to be shrinking at every encounter with Mark – was telling her that a walk was a very sensible course of action. Her body, however, was telling her the exact opposite.
* * *
Although the evening was fast approaching, the sun had already raised the temperature significantly and they hugged the shade of the trees as they followed a gravel path around the edge of the woods. From time to time Carmen the dog disappeared into the undergrowth where they could hear her snuffling about happily in the wet leaves.
‘This is a wonderful place for a Labrador, isn’t it?’
Mark smiled back. ‘Yes, she’s a lucky dog, all right, even if she isn’t allowed to go swimming in the pool. By the way, seeing as we’re out here, shall I show you where it is? That way you’ll know where to come if you feel like a midnight swim.’
Banishing the thought that instantly sprang to her mind of skinny-dipping with Mark, she gave him a smile and a nod. ‘That’s a good idea. But what about Carmen?’
‘Don’t worry, Claudio tells me the carpenter was here yesterday and he’s put in a gate. That should keep her out.’