She picked up her phone, but it took a while before she could press the right keys in the right order. When one of Dario’s staff answered instead of him, she almost laughed with relief.
‘I’m just ringing to let Count Dario know that I’m not able to attend his party,’ she said in a sparkling rush, then ran out of words. The PA merely thanked her politely, and put down the phone. Josie stared at her handset. Turning down Dario’s invitation was bad enough. Having her refusal accepted as a matter of course was worse.
Dario frowned at the slip of paper he had been handed by his PA. Its message presented him with another novelty. As always seemed to happen these days, Josie was at the bottom of it. People had been known to crawl from their sickbeds to attend one of his parties, but she had looked perfectly fit and well when he last saw her. He smiled, lingering over that image of her lithe, toned body. It didn’t seem right that she should deny herself the chance of an evening’s entertainment. She ought to make the most of every opportunity the Castello Sirena could offer while she was here.
Picking up his phone, he got her number and rang her in person.
‘Everyone else jumps at the chance of attending a Castello Sirena party,’ he said without bothering to introduce himself.
‘I’m sorry, Dario. Parties aren’t really my thing.’
She sounded uncertain, and he wasn’t so easily deterred. ‘I know you said you weren’t wild about the social life in Rimini, but this will be different.’
‘No, it won’t. Not unless your social circle has magically shrunk away to nothing, or is composed solely of archaeologists.’
‘Dannazione! Now why didn’t I think of that before I had all those invitations sent out? I could have included the staff of the National Museum!’ he drawled with lilting amusement. He added, ‘Don’t forget there will be at least one other archaeologist there—Antonia.’
‘And I’m sure she’ll love the chance to play the part of hostess again—I don’t want to get in her way. I’m sorry, Dario, but I won’t be there. Better luck next time.’
‘And would you really be more likely to attend “next time”?’
‘Er …’ she hesitated, but knew lying was impossible; Dario was bound to know she wasn’t telling the truth ‘… probably not, no.’
‘Is that your final decision?’
‘I’m afraid so. It was really kind of you to invite me, Dario. I’d better leave the partying to those who can appreciate it,’ she said, unable to suppress the note of wistfulness in her words.
‘OK …’ he said, then went silent.
‘Are you still there?’ she said after a pause.
‘I was waiting for you to change your mind.’
She had to laugh at that. ‘Well, I’ll give you ten out of ten for persistence, but it’s not going to happen, Dario!’
‘Fine,’ he said, and then he was gone.
In the years since Arietta’s death, Dario had replayed their final, fatal row a million times in his mind. He had vowed long ago that he would never make the same mistakes again and, so far, he hadn’t. If a woman decided to go her own way, that was fine by him. If she wanted to leave, he would open the door, thank her for her time and show her out.
But Josie actually sounded sorry that she couldn’t come, he thought. Letting out a curse, he jumped up and decided he needed a distraction.
‘I’m going out for a ride,’ he called out to anyone who could hear, uncharacteristically leaving his staff to worry about his appointments for the rest of the day.
Heading straight for Ferrari’s stable, he pulled his saddle off its tree but, after a moment’s consideration, dropped it back down again. Vaulting onto the stallion’s broad back, he rode out of the stable yard and into the estate. His mood was so black, it transmitted itself straight to his horse. Pointing him in the direction of the far hills, Dario gave Ferrari his head. He was so deep in thought it was only as he reined in the horse after their pipe-opener that he realised how far their gallop had taken them. The silvery streak in the far distance was the drove road. He was heading towards the old olive press—and Josie’s dig.
Things had got right out of control. Now he couldn’t even take an innocent ride in the country without winding up on her doorstep.
Why can’t I take what she says at face value? he thought irritably. Why can’t I get her out of my mind?
Dr Josie Street’s problem is that she can’t see further than her next intellectual puzzle, Dario decided. Her life was so lacking in fun, she hardly knew what the word meant. She not only refused to go to his party, she would rather use a telephone to tell him, rather than come out with it face to face. There must be something wrong, something lurking behind her stubborn single-mindedness. Grimly determined to find out what it was, he came to a decision. Josie would learn to relax and enjoy her stay at the castello if he had to stand over her and supervise her every moment.
And her every movement, he thought, suddenly struck by a vision of Josie in that wet white T-shirt.
Coming back to reality, he had two choices. He could let well alone, turn right and head straight back to his studio. There, he could take out his frustrations on a new canvas.
Or he could turn left and give Dr Josie Street an experience she would never forget.
The result was a foregone conclusion. Dario pulled out his mobile and made one short, succinct phone call to Antonia. Then he turned Ferrari’s head in the direction of the old olive press and rode out like the last in a long line of conquering heroes.
At first, the sound was only the smallest disturbance in the summer day. The continuous scratchy songs of grasshoppers under the hot Tuscan sun absorbed the unusual sound until it was close enough to resolve itself into the regular rhythm of a walking horse.
Josie dropped her trowel. Every nerve in her body went on high alert. When the jingle of harness joined the steady reverberation of hoof beats, she got out of her trench. The sun reflected off the glittering white dust of the drove road, making her raise one arm to shade her eyes against the glare. There was nothing to see—yet. The approaching horseman was hidden by a dip in the track, but Josie didn’t need to see him to know who it was. Something deep within her soul told her it was Dario, and he was coming for her.
Time stood still for her the second she saw that dark tousled head, contrasting so vividly with his golden skin and dazzling white shirt. It was revealed with tantalising slowness as he made his way relentlessly towards her. Flashes of painful brilliance seared her retinas as his horse’s bridle glinted in the sunlight. She hardly noticed. When he drew so close she could smell the rich mixture of saddle soap and leather, she wondered if the power of speech had deserted her completely. Now was the time to find out.
‘Dario.’
His name sizzled on her lips as it hit the dry air.
‘Josie.’
Thickened by the heat, his accent made her name sound more foreign and exotic than ever.
‘Are you here because I turned down your invitation?’
He straightened his back, becoming every inch the dignified aristocrat. ‘No. That was your decision. This has nothing to do with the invitation, but it does have everything to do with you, Josie.’
The chill in his voice sent her backing into the canopy pole. She was like the figurehead of a ship, clutching at the last point of stability as her universe rolled and bucked around her.
‘I’ve come to take you home with me, Josie.’
She moistened her dry lips with the tip of her tongue, very slowly.
‘What? Why?’ Her voice was barely a whisper, but his explanation was strong and sure.
‘Antonia needs your help,’ he announced.
Primed for him to admit that he wanted her, Josie deflated with sudden, sharp disappointment. She felt her fingers release their grip on the aluminium pole. Her hands fell to her sides and she walked forward onto the drove road. When Dario didn’t automatically move his horse to fall in step beside her, she stopped and looked back
at him quizzically.
‘I came to give you a lift.’
He ran his hand down Ferrari’s mane to make the point that they were a team, and for the moment Josie was the odd one out.
‘You’re not serious?’
The thought of being carried home was more frightening than Josie wanted to let on. Her gaze ran over the sleek sides of the horse but fell short of the powerful, brooding form of its rider. Her silence told Dario more than she wanted to put into words.
‘Don’t tell me you can neither swim nor ride?’ He was incredulous.
‘There isn’t much call for either, down in a trench.’
‘That doesn’t matter. There’s nothing to it. And, in any case, I shall be the one doing the riding—all you have to do is put your arms around my waist.’
Josie’s gaze rose almost shyly to include Dario as well as Ferrari.
‘So I’d be sitting behind you?’ she said slowly.
‘Yes.’
‘Oh …’ she said eventually. Her voice was little more than a whisper, but the heat of excitement powering through her veins was more fierce than the summer sun. Dario was wrong. If he had ridden up and swept her into his arms without a word she wouldn’t have been able to utter a single complaint. She would have been stunned into silence, and an all too willing and dangerous surrender.
Dario’s immense self-confidence transmitted itself to Ferrari, who paced obediently over to the shade of an ancient, almost horizontal olive tree growing at the wayside. Horse and rider were infused with the arrogant pride of centuries, and all Josie could do was obey.
‘The trunk of this tree slopes gently enough to make a perfect mounting block.’
Josie looked at it speculatively. As there was no alternative, she hopped up onto the lowest point of the sun-warmed tree. While she tentatively edged her way along its trunk, Dario backed his horse in close.
Josie was scared, but couldn’t bear to say so. She looked at Dario, and he saw the fear in her eyes.
‘Don’t think—put your hands on my shoulders and just do it.’
She thought back to the pool, and remembered that moment of exhilaration just after she fell into the water. Dario had caught her up and saved her from drowning, only to flood her with a bewitching torrent of feelings that had tortured her from that moment on.
And it’s starting all over again, she realised as the heat of his gaze raked over her body.
Sitting astride his horse, he looked and sounded supremely confident. There was no hint of threat about him, merely the majesty of a man on his own land.
He must be right. This will be perfectly OK, she persuaded herself.
Taking her courage in both hands, she did as Dario told her and found herself sitting behind him, astride Ferrari. She was so scared her lungs almost stopped working. All she could get were little panting breaths of the hot dry air.
‘Relax, Josie! This is the perfect way to travel.’ Dario’s voice was a purr of reassurance, but she was far too tense to appreciate it.
‘Only when you’re used to it,’ she said in a thin, strained voice. It sounded at least an octave higher than normal.
‘You will feel safer if you put your arms around my waist rather than gripping my shoulders.’
‘Will I?’ The doubt in her voice was so obvious she felt his laughter rumble up from beneath his ribs before she heard it.
‘Try it.’
Josie had to summon up a lot more nerve before she could loosen her hands, one at a time, to take a terrifyingly light grip around his ribcage.
‘I won’t break.’ He chuckled, and she felt the movement dance though his whole body.
‘Why is your horse called Ferrari?’ She looked down with apprehension. The ground seemed a horribly long way away.
There was a pause. ‘Because he is very fast, and dangerous in the wrong hands,’ Dario said in a voice rich with meaning.
Josie made a conscious effort to keep her hands loose on Dario’s sides, but it was almost impossible. The warmth of him begged to be experienced skin to skin, without the bother of fear, clothes or anything else.
‘Do you feel safe?’
‘Compared with what?’ she asked in a small, quavering voice. The horse’s back felt very warm and tense beneath her. ‘Does it get any worse than this?’
‘I won’t let it. Loosen up, Josie. I’ll keep you safe.’
Dario’s deep brown voice persuaded her to try to relax. His confidence was infectious. Gradually she felt it loosen her limbs, and so did Ferrari. The surface she was sitting on became mobile in several different directions at once as Dario directed his horse back onto the drove road.
‘How does that feel? Better?’
‘Ask me after I’ve got off at the other end. It’s probably one of those experiences that’s better viewed in hindsight,’ she croaked.
‘A simple OK would do. Or suffice, if you like, Dr Street.’
‘Now you’re laughing at me again,’ she accused.
‘No … never. I’m trying to get you to relax, and maybe distract you a little. You’ll enjoy the experience much more if you do. Listen to that—’ He pointed to one of the resident skylarks swinging up towards the heavens. ‘You’d never hear that from inside a car.’
‘No, but I can enjoy the same sounds while I’m safely down in my trench.’
‘Only with the little bit of your brain that isn’t wrapped up in your work. Where is your sense of adventure, Josie? This way you get to enjoy everything my home has to offer, so much more intimately.’ He paused, and she felt his ribcage expand as he drew in a long breath. ‘Mind you, I normally race around at top speed myself, travelling between appointments or chasing deadlines. Taking it this slowly is making me appreciate it more, too.’
‘Don’t you already know every inch of this estate? You and Antonia have both told me how you used to spend most of your time out here when you were children.’
‘Yes, because it was safer than staying inside the castle,’ Dario said quietly. ‘If our parents were in residence, their fighting could easily spill over onto us. If they were away, on the yacht or at the ski lodge, say, Antonia and I had to run the gauntlet of the staff they’d bussed in to keep us clean and fed. That was always a bit of a lottery. The good ones left when they got fed up with living in chaos, and the bad ones got fired—eventually. We were left to run riot, roaming the hills when it was dry and dodging from house to house around the estate when the weather was bad. They say it takes a whole village to raise a child. That was certainly true in our case.’
Dario stopped suddenly, and Josie realised he’d said more than he’d meant to. In spite of desperately wanting to know more, she managed to act as if he’d simply carried on with small talk and, keeping a firm grip around his waist, looked out across the undulating countryside as he changed the subject and pointed out some of his old haunts.
‘I’ve been invited into quite a few of those places already,’ she told him. ‘Everyone around here is really friendly. They always stop and chat.’
He laughed. ‘I thought you hated being interrupted when you were working?’
‘Yes … but there’s something about this place that makes me want to learn more about the people living here today, rather than being buried in the past all the time.’
‘That’s good.’ In a spontaneous movement, Dario dropped one hand and reached back. He touched her thigh, and patted it briefly. It was only a tiny movement, but it sent powerful messages surging through her body. With a sigh she felt herself submit to the waves of warmth travelling from his body to hers. Gradually she softened towards the experience. As she relaxed against him, her arms closed in around the reassuring solidity of his body. Before she knew what was happening, her cheek brushed his shoulder. It was just for a moment, but long enough to appreciate the clean soap and cologne fragrance of him.
She drew in a long, lingering breath of it. ‘This is wonderful …’ she murmured.
‘Are you enjoying it, Josie?�
�
As always, his beautiful voice filled her name with colours she had never noticed before.
‘I am. This is lovely.’
‘Good. That’s exactly as it should be. After all your hard work, you deserve a little treat or two. Some time off, and a few hours of indulgence.’
Josie thought about the party. She had so wanted to say yes to that invitation, she wished he would ask her again. Now she felt so safe in his presence, she would have been tempted to accept—but Dario was lost in thought. For some time, the only sounds were the skylarks, the jingle of harness and the regular dull thud of Ferrari’s hooves on the dusty white track.
‘You’re right. I’m a lucky man. This place is wonderful,’ he said at length.
CHAPTER SEVEN
JOSIE was in heaven. Once she got used to the gentle rhythm of Ferrari’s gait, she could think of nothing but the sensation of having her arms around Dario’s waist. His body was so warm and vital. She could feel the play of his muscles as they moved beneath the thin white fabric of his shirt. It brought back all the bittersweet memories of their picnic in the wood, her fear … and his kisses … She closed her eyes. With each measured step they took, her breasts nudged tantalisingly against Dario’s back. That made the growing fire inside her burn even brighter.
‘You can lean against me all you like,’ he said softly. ‘If it will make you feel better.’
After a moment’s hesitation, she did. It was hypnotically wonderful. Only the change in sound of Ferrari’s hooves as they moved from the drove road to the gravel outside the stable yard persuaded her to open her eyes again and sit up straight.
‘Wait. I’ll lift you down,’ Dario told her as a stable lad ran to take Ferrari’s reins.
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