Summer Romance with the Italian Tycoon

by Jessica Gilmore

  ‘A bookstore? Of course, Verona is famed for its bookshops,’ he said and Maddie beamed.

  ‘Good! I’ve read all the English books at the castello several times over—and my written Italian is by no means as fluent as my spoken.’ She was still chattering as they reached the first shop, only stopping when she took in the shelves of books, her mouth falling open in awe.

  ‘Go, browse,’ Dante told her. ‘We still have time.’

  ‘I never want to leave this place,’ she said solemnly, heading towards the English section as if she were drawn there by the Pied Piper.

  Dante stood and watched her, noting the reverential way she selected a book, the way she was instantly absorbed as she read it, and was conscious of a nostalgic longing for the young man who would once have lost himself in dreams as she did. He turned hurriedly, wanting, needing to break the connection and his gaze fell on a table of journals. Diaries, recipe books, travel writings. He picked up a gorgeously embellished travel journal, remembering the light in Maddie’s eyes as she had talked him through her plans. A light he had wanted to bathe in, even as his heart twisted at the knowledge that her plans involved being a long way from him.

  No. He should be glad for her—and relieved for himself. She was leaving at the end of the summer—and that made her safe. As long as he remembered that she was leaving, as long as he remembered that ultimately she wanted what he could no longer give, then he was safe.

  And safety was all that mattered.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  ‘WHERE DO I PRESS?’

  ‘Right there. That’s it.’ Maddie shifted slightly. For a small, skinny child, Arianna seemed to weigh an awful lot, especially when all her weight was on just one knee. ‘And then press there and there... That’s it! You’ve just finalised a booking.’

  ‘All by myself?’

  ‘All by yourself,’ Maddie confirmed, smiling at the child’s evident glee. ‘You’re a natural. I’ll have to be careful or I’ll find myself out of a job.’

  ‘What’s this? You’re not annoying Maddie, are you, piccola?’

  They both jumped at the sound of Dante’s voice and Maddie swung the chair round, noting with a slight feeling of guilt the flare of surprise in his eyes as he noted Arianna on her knee. They had agreed to be extra careful with each other around Arianna and ensure that Luciana said nothing either, but when Arianna had shown up in Maddie’s office that morning, she hadn’t been able to bring herself to send the small girl away; something in her eagerness to learn—and the wistful loneliness in her eyes—struck a nostalgic chord. Besides, Maddie reasoned, as far as Arianna knew, Maddie was nothing but an employee, so what harm could letting her hang around do?

  To her surprise she was enjoying Arianna’s company. Maddie had never spent much time with children before, had always found herself unsure what to say, but with Arianna conversation was easy, whether they spoke in Italian or whether Arianna practised her sometimes excellent, sometimes idiosyncratic English.

  ‘Not annoying, working.’ Arianna tilted her chin. ‘This will all be mine one day; I need to learn how to look after it.’

  She reminded Maddie so much of herself at a young age that her chest hurt with bittersweet nostalgia, old, weary scars flaring back to life. Once she had had the same pride in her name, in her surroundings, in her family. The difference being that Dante laughed at his daughter’s arrogant words, swinging Arianna up in the air as he did so, whereas Maddie would have been hushed, reminded that the abbey would belong to her brother, not her. It seemed so harsh, to tell a child she was only a temporary resident, to ensure she never could feel fully at home. Harsh and useless, because Maddie had loved Stilling Abbey fiercely anyway. Part of her always would.

  ‘Oh, well, in that case, I’m sure there are many jobs you can do, cara; I know the gardeners can do with someone to help them weed and the kitchen can always use another washer-upper. I did every job in this house at some point,’ Dante added and Arianna stared at him solemnly.

  ‘Then so will I.’

  ‘Good girl, that’s the best way to learn.’ Maddie looked up at Dante, her heart squeezing at the sight of the tall man holding his daughter close. ‘How’s Luciana? Has her jet lag kicked in?’

  ‘She’s still in bed and if she doesn’t get up soon it is going to take her whole stay before she adjusts. Ari, go and see if your aunt will wake up. I thought she might want to walk up to her favourite ristorante for lunch. The view’s glorious,’ Dante said to Maddie. ‘You will love it.’

  Maddie waited until Arianna had skipped out of the room before she replied. ‘Do you think that’s a good idea? If I accompany you on a family day out?’

  ‘Of course.’ He was completely the haughty aristocrat. ‘Luciana was so weary yesterday she barely registered you. A family day out is exactly the kind of scenario she needs to see to stop her worrying.’ He paused, the haughtiness slipping off his face. ‘She looked so tired, even allowing for the jet lag and travel. I hope she isn’t keeping anything from me.’

  Maddie studied him, the worry in his eyes, etched into his face. On the drive back from Verona yesterday evening she had been struck by the easy, companionable bond between the siblings, evident despite the age gap, the distance that usually separated them. And she had been struck by the way they assessed each other when thought unseen. The concern shadowing Luciana as she glanced at her brother, mirrored by Dante whenever he looked back. For the first time she understood why Dante had lied, had wanted to stop the sister he evidently adored from fretting.

  ‘It’s a long journey; she’s bound to be tired. The mountain air will do her the world of good.’

  ‘So you’ll join us?’ It was more of a command than a request and, although Maddie still wasn’t sure spending too much time in close proximity with Luciana was wise, she nodded her agreement.

  ‘I realised yesterday that now you have agreed to pay for my ticket I can afford to leave at the end of the summer like I’d originally hoped. I’d like to be out of the country before Theo gets married, not because I think the press will chase me down or because I’ll be broken-hearted, but because it feels right. Like the perfect time for a fresh start. It seems a shame not to see a little of the countryside before I leave and I still haven’t explored the mountains at all.’

  ‘Don’t get carried away. This isn’t a day out. You’ll be working the whole time.’

  ‘I know. Convincing Luciana we are in love whilst making sure Arianna suspects nothing.’ Maddie slid out of her chair and stepped over to where Dante stood. ‘Are you up to it, Conte?’

  She didn’t want to think about what she was doing, why her whole body was throbbing with desire as soon as she looked into his cool blue gaze, why her nerves were skittering in hope, in anticipation of his touch. They were planning a family walk, not an afternoon liaison. But all Maddie knew was that the moment Dante had dropped her off yesterday evening, she had been aware of just how alone she was for the first time since she had arrived in Italy. Her apartment no longer felt like a haven of independence, but small and cramped, her bed uncomfortable as she had tossed and turned, barely sleeping, reliving memories of the night before.

  She wanted, needed more than memories. She needed touch. To touch and be touched. To be reminded that she lived. Existed.

  What harm could a kiss do? Another night? Two or three or four? She was leaving. So as long as she reminded herself that this was just an interlude before her real adventures began then she was quite safe.

  ‘You doubt my acting skills?’ Dante’s voice was hoarse, his gaze no longer cool but full of heat, and Maddie’s whole body flamed at the sight, at the knowledge that she had elicited that reaction.

  ‘No, I’m sure you’ll be fine. But if you wanted a quick rehearsal...’ She allowed her voice to trail off suggestively.

  Disappointment swept through her as he stepped away, only to retreat
as he slowly and deliberately, his gaze holding hers, closed and locked the door to her office. ‘A rehearsal sounds like an excellent idea, Signorina Fitzroy. However, I can’t promise it will be quick...’ And then, at last, his hands were on her as his mouth found hers and Maddie kissed him back fiercely, slipping her arms around him, luxuriating in the feel of his skin under her fingertips. Surely she wasn’t foolish enough to mistake this for anything more than lust and pleasure? No, Maddie knew exactly what Dante was offering her, so she might as well enjoy it while she could.

  * * *

  ‘Where have Arianna and Luciana gone?’

  Dante looked up as Maddie rounded the corner, the blood rushing to his veins at the sight of her. No cool, professional Madeleine today. Instead her long, tanned limbs were showcased by tiny denim shorts and her close-fitting vest top, her silky hair pulled back into a loose knot, tendrils curling in the heat. He liked seeing the cool, organised Madeleine Fitzroy rumpled and casual. She looked very much as she had when he had left her office earlier, rosy with exertion, damp with sweat. He cast a quick glance around the mountain-top restaurant, cursing the other diners, the waiters, everyone whose presence stopped him pushing her up against the terrace balustrade and taking her right there, under the mountain’s gaze.

  Dante swallowed, glad his voice remained steady. ‘One of the other diners was driving back to San Tomo and offered to give them a lift. It’s a long walk back down and they both seemed tired.’

  ‘A lift sounds nice,’ Maddie said. ‘But I think I prefer walking down; it’s all the extra pasta and bread and tiramisu I have to carry with me I’m not sure about. Why was I such a glutton? I must be at least a whole other person heavier. In fact I don’t need to walk; you can probably just roll me down the mountainside.’ She joined him at the balustrade, leaning on it with a deep sigh, one that seemed to come right from her toes. ‘It is so beautiful here. I know mountains, of course, but this kind of Alpine lushness never seemed Italian to me before. Now it always will.’

  Dante followed her gaze. The ristorante was high on the mountain, right on a peak, with stunning views across green valleys framed by white stone peaks. This was his home, the landscape of his heart. And yet he had exiled himself for five years, would spend most of the year far to the south in the bustle of a city. Better not to think about why, better to just enjoy every day as it came and let the mountains and lakes restore his soul, a little at a time. ‘You ready to walk back?’

  ‘I think so.’ She patted her stomach. ‘Let’s take the first part slowly though. I’m not joking about the rolling part.’

  The paths were all clearly signposted, a vast network of walks and hikes throughout the whole district. It was possible to take cable cars up to the next shelf, or down to the lower slopes, roads criss-crossed the mountains and valleys, but as they turned the corner and the ristorante was hidden from sight the modern world fell away. It was just the two of them in the majestic landscape. The path cut through a flower-strewn meadow populated only by mild, incurious cows, each adorned with a bell around its neck, the faint jingling adding to the birdsong piping up at intermittent intervals. Maddie didn’t speak for the first few minutes, her eyes bright as she looked around her, her full mouth curved into a smile of pure joy.

  ‘I could stay here for ever,’ she said finally, so low he could hardly hear the words. ‘Right here, right now. If there’s a heaven then surely it must look like this. Oh, Dante. You are so lucky to belong here.’

  But he didn’t. Not any more. ‘It’s been too long since I’ve walked like this. Once I roamed these mountains more like a goatherd than a future conte, spent my winters skiing, the rest of the year climbing and walking. They were in my blood. Are in my blood. But Violetta didn’t like to hike or to ski. She didn’t like the mountains at all, said they were threatening, bleak. She saw beauty in restaurants and yachts, not in nature.’

  ‘What a shame, to live surrounded by this and not to appreciate it.’

  ‘The last two years of my marriage I would hike alone. Looking for answers, for peace, for happiness. But no matter how far I walked I could never leave my problems, my loneliness behind.’

  The words just spilled out. Whether it was the way Maddie just listened quietly, no condemnation or surprise in her clear grey eyes, just acceptance, or whether it was the way they seemed alone in the world as they walked through the meadow, he didn’t know.

  ‘I’m sorry. There’s nothing worse than a bad marriage. As someone who narrowly escaped one, I think I know what I’m talking about. Not that Theo isn’t lovely—he really is. In a very driven, overactive way. But he isn’t for me. And I’m not for him. We would have bored each other senseless within months.’

  ‘By the end I would have settled for bored,’ Dante said bleakly. ‘Violetta liked to be the centre of attention. And for the first two years she was. But as time went by, as I recovered from my infatuation, the less time I had to spare to pander to her vanity. If I wasn’t going to fawn over her, well, she would settle for an argument instead. It made no difference to her if I wanted to fight or not, or even if I joined in—she was quite capable of escalating up to full hysteria, complete with smashed ornaments and screaming, without my input.’

  He stopped, shocked by how much he had revealed. He had never told anyone, not even Luciana, about the last eighteen months of his doomed marriage.

  ‘Oh, Dante.’

  ‘The more scenes she created the more excuses I found to stay away, to travel.’ Dante rubbed his chin wearily, the rasp of his stubble grazing his palm. ‘It was wrong of me. It just inflamed Violetta more and of course it meant I didn’t see Arianna for days, sometimes weeks at a time. Violetta would accuse me of not caring about our daughter, she would say I resented her for being born, that I blamed her for our marriage. She would say it in front of her—I don’t know how much Arianna remembers. She was only three when Violetta died.’

  ‘I can see why it was easier to stay away. For Arianna’s sake as well as yours.’

  ‘I knew she was safe.’ Dante couldn’t stop now. The words lancing his wounds. Painful as it was to excavate the ruins of his marriage like this, excruciating as it was to see with the clearness of hindsight just where he had gone wrong, it was still somehow cleansing, letting someone else hear the evidence and pronounce judgement. ‘Violetta lost interest in her very early and left her to her nanny much of the time while she visited Milan and Rome. She hated San Tomo, complained that she was lonely, and I expect she was. None of her friends were there and she was a woman who needed the adulation, the stimulation of others to keep her happy. I should have agreed to her demands that we move to Milan, but I wanted my daughter raised in the castello as Luciana and I had been. And I didn’t trust Violetta. Left to her own devices in a city for much of the time, I feared she would embarrass me. I was young. It’s not an excuse, but I hadn’t learned the art of compromise.’

  ‘Some people never learn it. And you were young.’

  They reached the pine forest and Dante led the way in, glad of the gloom, the trees towering overhead. ‘At times I almost hated her.’ He’d never said the truth aloud, barely even admitted it to himself. ‘And I despised myself for being so weak because when she decided to turn on the charm in the beginning I fell, even knowing how temporary the reconciliation would be. Knowing she had as little respect for me as I had for myself, as I had for her. By the time I became immune to her charm we were locked in a self-destructive spiral, but I didn’t want to admit to myself, to the world that I had made such a monumental mistake. Nor did I want to lose Arianna, and Violetta made it clear they came as a package. She might not want to be troubled with a child most of the time, but she didn’t want me to have her either.’

  ‘What happened?’

  He exhaled, the memories toxic. ‘Violetta had been away partying a lot and I put my foot down. Young and arrogant and embarrassed is a bad combination and I
handled the situation—handled her—badly. I see now I should have let her go. Given her the house in Milan she demanded and let the marriage slowly disintegrate. The shine of the title had worn off by then; I don’t think it would have taken much persuasion by a suitable lover for her to walk out. Instead I threatened to cut off her allowance if she didn’t calm down, insisted she spend the winter at the castello. That she act like the Contessa Falcone, like a mother. And then I went away again, on a three-week business trip to the other side of the world, feeling as if I had acted like a man, solved the situation.’

  ‘No one likes a tyrant,’ Maddie said, but there was no condemnation in her voice. That was fine. Dante had enough for both of them.

  ‘No. I didn’t try and understand how Violetta felt. Didn’t appreciate that she was highly strung and spoiled and bored. That she wanted the besotted boy who had danced attendance on her and told her that she was the most beautiful, desirable woman in the world, not a tired businessman who spent half of his life on planes and the other half in his study. Who didn’t ever want to party unless there was a deal to be done, had no interest in her life, in her friends. Who treated her like a frivolous, naughty child, who reserved all his spare time for their daughter. You see...’ he managed a smile but he knew it was bleak ‘...we were equally at fault. And so...she decided she had had enough. That she would leave me. In typical Violetta fashion she decided to do it as dramatically as possible. I know now she had several lovers during our marriage. She contacted the most recent and begged him to rescue her and he set off straight away.’

  ‘Only they never made it. How sad.’

  ‘They were both drunk and there was evidence of cocaine use. I had no idea she used, missed all the signs, although looking back it was clear she’d been using from the start. He drove too fast, skidded on some ice and the next moment Arianna was motherless and I a single parent.’