The Italian's Blushing Gardener

by Christina Hollis

  ‘I don’t know.’ Stefano was equally put out at the sight. His mouth was a stern line of disapproval. ‘Some foreigners buy up these properties claiming to love Italy. In reality, Toscana is nothing more to them than England with better weather. They are more interested in worshipping their own land from a safe distance.’

  ‘I’m not. I love it here,’ Kira told him. ‘I couldn’t wait to leave England behind, decorations and all…’ She paused, wondering whether to push her luck, and decided she had nothing to lose.

  ‘If we’re going to be neighbours, I’d feel happier if I knew you were going to treat this old place well,’ she went on. ‘It would be such a shame to see it spoilt.’

  ‘It won’t matter to you for a few weeks a year, surely?’ He shrugged.

  Kira was puzzled. ‘So you’re going to be away a lot?’

  ‘No, but you’ll be leaving with the summer, won’t you?’

  Kira coloured up angrily. ‘Why should I?’

  ‘So you won’t be flitting between here and your home in England?’ He looked surprised.

  She shook her head defiantly. ‘No! I thought I’d made it clear—I don’t have a home in England any more. In any case, I couldn’t bear to leave at the end of summer, as the holiday-home owners do. How could I abandon my home here? The Bella Terra valley is everything I want—peace and beauty.’

  Stefano’s dark brows lightened a little. ‘I assume that means you could find no peace in England, so you brought your beauty here?’

  His voice was low and melodious but his eyes shone with mischief. Drawn to look straight at him again, Kira could not help lifting her lips in the ghost of a smile, but she said nothing.

  ‘I don’t know of many people who would willingly hide away in such an isolated spot,’ he murmured. ‘You’re not afraid to stand up for yourself, you work for your living and you love this place as much as I intend to. How could anything make such a forthright, independent woman leave England under a cloud?’

  Kira lifted one hand and began to fiddle with a skein of her dark auburn hair.

  ‘It was a combination of things,’ she said, hoping to stop him asking any more awkward questions.

  He lifted his brows still higher, encouraging her to unburden herself. She shifted from foot to foot. Her fingers moved from her hair to toy with the thin gold chain around her neck. Stefano watched her. He seemed genuinely interested, and ready to listen. Suddenly she was tired of bottling everything up, and keeping herself to herself. She wanted to talk. She needed someone who might sympathise, or at least answer back. It hardly mattered about the words. She had never seen Stefano Albani before today, and might never see him again. He had already proved himself to be sympathetic. If she explained the whole miserable business to him, as an impartial third party, it might make her feel better.

  It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him the whole sorry story. She pushed the guilty words against her teeth, trying to force them out. It was no good. She had kept silent for so long, she didn’t know where to begin. Finally, she shook her head.

  ‘It’s nothing.’

  He considered her gravely. ‘I think it is. Something is obviously weighing heavily on your mind.’

  He took a step towards her. Kira knew he moved almost silently, but the brush of his leather-soled shoes sounded loud in the peace of the reception room. She stared at the floor. She winced when his feet appeared in her field of view, but it was still a shock to feel the gentle touch of his hand on her shoulder.

  ‘There’s no need to jump. I’m only offering a little support,’ he said.

  ‘I don’t need it,’ she said staunchly, but he took no notice and never moved. His touch was warm, reassuring…seductive. In spite of herself, Kira relished the feeling. Then he spoiled the effect. His touch vibrated slightly. She looked up, and saw laughter in his eyes.

  ‘One day, I would really enjoy the chance to discuss sins with you, Miss Kira Banks. Whatever you may have done, I’m sure I can top it!’

  With a sharp twist of her head, Kira looked away. She could not bear to let him see her misery. Squeezing her lids tightly closed, she battled to stop the tears falling. She was so lost in her own despair she was completely unprepared for what happened next. Stefano closed the gap between them. His arms glided around her. She was drawn into his body again, and it felt so natural she let it happen without a word. For a few heart-stopping seconds she leaned against him. The sensation of his shirt pressed against her cheek and the enveloping male fragrance of him closed her eyes.

  ‘Is there anything I can do?’ His voice echoed around the unloved caverns of the villa.

  Kira shook her head. ‘I’d be grateful if you could just drop the subject,’ she managed, with a trace of steel showing through her muttered words.

  ‘Okay.’

  He took his time in releasing her. Kira normally disliked physical contact, but this was different. Stefano seemed to specialise in the sort of touch she might like to experience again.

  He obviously wasn’t going to give up on her. Kira sensed he couldn’t resist a challenge any more than she could. However, she also knew her fragile self-esteem couldn’t stand too many questions. Her reaction to unwarranted attention was usually to snap first, and apologise later. It appeared that this hadn’t dissuaded Stefano in the slightest. The most disconcerting thing about that was how ready she’d been to indulge in the comfort he offered. Pull yourself together! she ordered herself silently. This man was clearly used to getting his own way and she was embarrassed how easily she had mistaken his charm for anything more permanent.

  A hint of her old defiance returned. It allowed her to face him calmly, but it didn’t stop her cheeks flaming red at how much she had nearly revealed. ‘I’m sorry, signore. That was a momentary lapse, but now you’ll see that I really don’t want to talk about it. So I’d be grateful if we could leave it at that. Okay?’ she finished crisply.

  Stefano’s gaze ebbed away from her as she spoke. He said nothing. Instead, he tightened his lips, and bobbed his head once in silent agreement. In the pause that followed, he glanced around. His eyes, like his body, were restless.

  ‘Everyone has parts of their lives they’re not proud of,’ he conceded. ‘I can relate to that. So if we agree on a truce, can we continue with the tour?’

  He had been almost teasing as he tried to extract her secret, but now he had retreated again behind that impenetrable mask. Kira felt a strange pang of loss. She wondered if he ever experienced the sort of social unease that tortured her. It seemed unlikely. What could ever make such a man feel inadequate?

  She nodded and gave him a fleeting smile. ‘Of course.’

  What would it feel like to unburden herself to him? She was certain he would listen. Really listen, and not simply humour her because he wanted something. Life would take on a different dimension. It was something she had never bothered about before, but a few seconds in Stefano’s arms had opened up a whole new world of possibilities for her. It almost tempted her out of her shell, but not quite. If he couldn’t be on time for a business appointment, he was hardly likely to treat a casual acquaintance any better. She gave up on the idea. At least when she was on the defensive, she couldn’t be hurt.

  ‘If you are really interested in buying the Bella Terra estate, Signor Albani, you should be making the most of your visit. You mustn’t stand around here with me.’

  Without waiting for his reply, she turned her back on him and walked out of the sunlit room. The vast, gloomy hall beyond was supposed to cool her feelings.

  ‘There’s no need to run away from me, Kira.’

  She stopped.

  ‘You might be surprised,’ she said finally.

  Her darkening attitude didn’t bother Stefano at all. He stuck one hand casually in his pocket, and grinned at her.

  ‘So what are you waiting for, then? Surprise me.’

  His words made her uncertain. Until a short time ago, endless surprises—none of them good—had been th
e story of her life. Then she had escaped, and moved to Italy. For a couple of years she had experienced wonderful freedom. And now, with the loss of Sir Ivan, her foremost client, she was faced with the threat that happiness might soon be snatched away from her again. Unconsciously, her shoulders began to sag. Then she sensed his gaze was still on her. She looked up. He was still quizzing her with his eyes.

  She shrugged. ‘I’m afraid there’s nothing more to me than you see here, signore.’

  His face was totally impassive but he went on watching her as he said quietly, ‘Then it’s a good job I came here to see the Bella Terra estate, rather than anything else. My journey won’t have been entirely wasted,’ he announced before setting off across the hall again. ‘Now, down to business. I want to look around this house. Would you like to come with me?’

  Chapter Three

  TOGETHER, they began to walk.

  ‘Why did Bella Terra’s owner—the English gentleman—leave you alone here?’ Stefano was looking at her in a new way. Kira preferred the old one, but still felt her cheeks flare.

  ‘He died.’

  For the first time, the smile left Stefano’s eyes. ‘Then I’m sorry.’

  His sympathy looked genuine. Kira decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. ‘He was eighty-five, signore, so it was hardly unexpected.’

  He shrugged. ‘But it must have been a shock, all the same. Deaths are always tragic.’ His last words grated uncomfortably in the marble-lined hall. Kira recognised a dangerous flash in his eyes. She couldn’t help noticing the length and thickness of his soot-dark lashes. He probably knows they are one of his best features, she warned herself abruptly. It can be the only reason he keeps looking at me like that.

  ‘I’m sorry you lost a friend, Kira. I know what that is like.’ His voice was distant and regretful. Something about the tone hinted that he had his own secrets.

  He shook his head suddenly, as if discarding old memories and turned to her, a playful smile again curving the corners of his mouth, taking refuge in flirtation.

  ‘Kira—that is a beautiful name for a lovely woman. Coupled with your shining auburn hair, jade-green eyes and magnolia skin, what more could any man want?’

  That broke the spell.

  ‘Nothing—until his wife finds out.’ Sidestepping him smartly, Kira headed back across the shady hall towards the only parts of the house she had seen before. That way she could put a little distance between them, without losing contact entirely. People made her uneasy, and that feeling fed on itself. Every time she began to warm towards Stefano, she felt bound to pull herself back into line. Yet increasingly, his every move held her hypnotised. When he started sweet talking her, it was too tender a reminder of how things could turn sour all too soon.

  ‘I have no worries on that score, Kira. I don’t have a wife.’

  She heard his footsteps fall in beside her, but did not look at him.

  ‘That’s what they all say—to begin with, Signor Albani.’

  ‘Call me Stefano.’

  ‘They all say that, too.’

  Walking over to the glazed door at the rear of the building, she unlocked it. When open, it would give him a view into the courtyard garden beyond. The fresh air and perfume of flowers always soothed her. Kira had designed this entire quadrangle garden. Originally, it was nothing more than cracked concrete and stagnant slime. Now it was one of her triumphs. Stefano was sure to be distracted once he got out there. She was looking forward to seeing what he thought of her work. It would be good to get an unbiased opinion. She knew that would help take her mind off her troubles, more than anything else.

  It had always been a struggle to free the warped woodwork of the garden door. Although the interior paintwork was smart brown gloss, Kira knew it was a different story on the other side. The Tuscan sun had roasted away the shine within months. Now sunburnt flakes speckled the steps and sills. She tugged at the door, but it was only when Stefano came to help that it could finally be dragged back over the uneven tiles.

  The large rectangular courtyard was paved with local cream-coloured stone. Around its boundary ran a deep, shady colonnade. In the centre was a raised fish pool. The air beyond the hall was still and hot. It hung over the threshold like a heavy curtain. Kira stepped outside, and Stefano followed her into the stormy sunshine. His hair glittered like jet as he looked around the garden. A large ceanothus had been planted in one corner. It hummed with bees, their sound joining the quiet splash of water trickling over wet stones. Ornamental ferns grew in the shadiest areas. The ones with smooth, satiny leaves enjoyed the damp soil and mosses in deepest shadow. Those with leaflets like lace rippled in the slightest breeze, patterning the old riven flagstones with light and shade. The coping stones around the pool were wide and warm. Stefano strolled over, and sat down. Leaning on one hand, he looked into the water.

  ‘This is spectacular. Come and join me,’ he drawled, his voice languorous in the heat.

  Kira took her time. She didn’t want to seem too eager; being close to him seemed to rob her of her usual self-composure. She walked over and perched on the opposite side of the pool.

  ‘I love this place already. What a beautiful oasis!’ For the first time since she’d met him, Stefano seemed to relax completely, breathing in the fragrant air and gazing around with unaffected pleasure.

  ‘Thank you. I wanted to give old Sir Ivan somewhere on the ground floor that he could enjoy, whatever the weather.’

  ‘You are responsible for this?’ His brows lifted appreciatively.

  ‘Yes—and all the other recent work you’ll see when you inspect the grounds. Sir Ivan saw one of my garden designs on display at the Chelsea Flower Show, several years ago. He commissioned me to create a roof garden for his town house in London. After that, I did more and more projects for him and his friends, before relocating here permanently two years ago.’

  Stefano’s beautiful mouth twitched in appreciation. ‘So you’re a self-made woman? Congratulations.’

  ‘I’m only doing my job.’ Kira shrugged.

  ‘Don’t be so modest! Word of mouth may have brought you a long way in business so far, but with the death of your friend Sir Ivan, you must have lost a major client. You’ll need to find a replacement. Have you got anyone lined up?’ he asked suddenly.

  Kira shook her head. She had been trying not to think about that. She really hated having to publicise her business. The more people who contacted her because they had seen and enjoyed her work through their friends, the better.

  ‘If I’m honest, all I enjoy is the work. Dealing with people is a nightmare I wish I could avoid for ever.’

  Stefano cleared his throat. Kira wondered if he was as surprised as she was by how honest she was being with him. At least he liked her garden, which was a good sign. Standing, she brushed off her memories of working in this peaceful sanctuary. Once Stefano Albani came to live here, she might never see inside this place again. She ought to make the most of this tour.

  It was a poignant moment. As Stefano stepped out of the stark sunlight and back into the shadows, Kira hesitated. The shade should have been a wonderful relief from the hot afternoon. Instead, she felt the chill of abandonment, and not for the first time. It was the story of her life. She had been given up as a lost cause by her stepparents. Then her place on the sidelines of their life became permanent when their unexpected natural child arrived. Now she was doing much the same to the garden she had cherished. In a few weeks or months, she would have to turn her back on this place and leave it in the hands of others. She shuddered.

  Stefano noticed, and smiled at her in a way calculated to immediately warm her up.

  ‘It sounds as though you will be my perfect neighbour.’

  Kira shot him a look that said she didn’t share his view.

  ‘I promise the experience will be an unforgettable one,’ he added quietly.

  She ignored that, and told him the simple truth. ‘I’m afraid anyone who buys this house automatical
ly gets on the wrong side of me. Sir Ivan and I used to co-exist in this valley very well. I can’t imagine anyone else being a better neighbour than he was.’

  She thought it would be safer to warn Stefano what she was like, right from the beginning. Instead of sympathising, he laughed.

  ‘I’ll try,’ he said mischievously. ‘Let’s hope I can play the part as well as you act the role of estate agent!’

  His refusal to take her statement seriously was infuriating. ‘I’m not acting. I’m here to make sure nothing happens to the villa keys,’ she said stiffly. ‘You’re here to view the place. We’ve got nothing in common, and we’re never going to see each other again after today.’

  Stefano said nothing, but smiled at her with an assessing look in his meltingly dark eyes. The dappled sunshine played on his clean, beautiful features and suddenly the thought of never seeing him again wasn’t quite as comforting as she had expected.

  As they continued their tour of the house, Kira began to wonder if she had misjudged the captivating Signor Stefano Albani. They did have one thing in common. It was obvious the moment they reached the first floor. He strode straight to the nearest window and looked out. Only when he had inspected the vista with its avenue of sweetly scented lime trees did he begin his careful study of the floors, walls and furnishings. Watching him, she noticed he carried out the same ritual with each new room they entered. He paid no attention to the high ceilings and airily beautiful rooms until he had studied what was on show outside. Finally, she couldn’t stay silent any longer.

  ‘I see you like the view,’ she said with satisfaction.

  There was a pause before he answered. It gave her strange pleasure to see that he carried on drinking in the scenery before he replied. ‘Is it so obvious?’

  ‘You make a beeline for the windows each time we enter a room.’

  He frowned, seeming uncomfortable that she had noticed his simple enjoyment of their beautiful surroundings.