The Italian's Ruthless Marriage Command (HQR Presents) Page 8

  Dante as a vintner? Picking grapes in the field? Earthy? Somehow it didn’t gel with his sophisticated image.

  Taylor carefully replaced her cup down onto its saucer and offered him a studied look. ‘You’re proposing we stay there…for how long?’

  ‘A week, possibly longer.’ A faint gleam lightened his dark eyes. ‘There are staff, and Graziella is an adequate chaperone.’ He didn’t add if that’s what bothers you.

  Except the implication was there, and her chin lifted a little. ‘I’m sure Ben will love it.’

  ‘Dante says I can have a bike to ride, just like the one at home, and he’s going to teach me things,’ Ben assured with such earnestness, it was impossible not to smile. ‘And there’s some dogs, and two cats.’ He paused, and rushed on with excited importance. ‘And maybe some new kittens.’

  Taylor’s expression softened, and she teased gently, ‘So I guess we get to pack, huh?’

  ‘Yes, please. Can we do it now?’

  ‘If Taylor has finished breakfast,’ Graziella chided quietly, and caught Taylor’s nod in acquiescence.

  ‘What time do you want to leave?’

  ‘Around ten.’

  Taylor checked her watch. That gave them just over an hour. ‘If you’ll excuse me?’

  She rose to her feet, caught Ben’s hand and moved from the dining room. Almost as soon as they were out of sight, Ben loosened his hold and quickened his step towards their suite of rooms.

  Taylor attended to Ben’s clothes first, then her own, and it was one very excited little boy who happily allowed himself to be secured in a booster seat alongside Taylor in the rear of a luxury four-wheel-drive.

  Soon the city gave way to tracts of land, villages large and small, the countryside lush green, boundaries lined with cypress tees standing like tall dark green sentinels against fallow and planted fields.

  There was a freshness in the air, the clean smell of the land and all it nurtured.

  ‘Are we nearly there?’

  ‘Soon.’ Dante’s voice was a mildly amused drawl, and his gaze connected briefly with Taylor via the rear-vision mirror.

  Acreage of indeterminate size hugged the hills, with villas of various ages and designs. Cream and terracotta tiled roofs, cream stucco walls nestled among trees and shrubbery, gardens large and small, some with symmetry, flora in large clay pots and urns. Olive groves, vineyards, separated by meandering clay tracks.

  It was into one of these tracks Dante eased the four-wheel-drive, travelling at a moderate speed between high clipped hedges and burgeoning shrubbery, then he turned a relatively tight corner…and there the villa stood, a blend of old and new, as additions had been added to the main structure over time.

  Yet the whole held a captivating charm, with its wide portico, French-style doors, stone-paved walkways. Green creeper held purchase over one external wall, and the view over the gently sloping land brought a catch to Taylor’s throat.

  Beautiful was the first and only word that came immediately to mind. Others would follow, but beautiful was the one that would always remain in her mind.

  There were sounds she barely registered…a dog, or was it two, barking in unison as Dante brought the vehicle to a halt adjacent the front portico? And she turned at the sound of a door opening, saw a middle-aged woman framed in the doorway, smiling in welcome as Dante emerged from behind the wheel.

  Greetings were exchanged, introductions complete, whereupon Dante summoned the two dogs forward…a German shepherd and a golden Labrador, and formerly instructed each dog that Taylor and Ben were friends.

  A process which fascinated Ben, who obediently stood still, then tentatively extended his hand, only to laugh as first one dog, then the other, licked his fingers.

  After which Dante ordered the dogs to stay, and led his guests indoors to a spacious entry lobby whose walls held oil paintings, wall tapestries, and solid furniture rested on a huge, multi-patterned carpet square that covered most of the tiled floor.

  Hallways led off to the left and right, and a sweeping staircase led to an upper level.

  ‘Lunch will be served in an hour,’ Lena, the housekeeper, informed in heavily accented English. ‘The rooms are ready, and Mario will transfer the luggage.’

  ‘My usual suite, Lena?’ Graziella asked, and the housekeeper confirmed, adding, ‘I’ll take the guests to their rooms.’

  The interior appeared to flow easily from one area to another, and it was Lena who led Taylor and Ben upstairs to a wing containing guest suites, each with an adjoining modern en suite.

  ‘I hope you will be comfortable here.’

  What isn’t to like? Taylor decided with approval, and offered a warm smile. ‘Thank you. You’re very kind.’

  ‘It is Signor Dante’s instructions.’ Lena inclined her head. ‘I will leave you to freshen up.’

  ‘Can I have the room with two beds?’ Ben asked as soon as Lena disappeared from the room, and Taylor leant out a hand and ruffled his hair.

  ‘I don’t see why not.’

  Minutes later there was a tap at Taylor’s open door, and a man who introduced himself as Mario deposited two bags at the foot of her bed, then he inclined his head and retreated down the stairs.

  ‘OK, champ, let’s unpack, shall we?’

  ‘Then can we go see the dogs?’

  She checked her watch. ‘Maybe after lunch. First, we need to unpack and freshen up.’

  ‘There’s a cat and kittens, too. Nonna said.’

  ‘Lots of things for you to see and do,’ Taylor teased. ‘But not all in one day, huh?’

  ‘Dante is going to take me to see the grapes, and where they make the wine, and the—’

  ‘Cellars?’

  ‘Yes.’ His eyes grew round. ‘That’s where the wine is stored. In barrels.’

  ‘You’re learning fast.’

  She couldn’t recall precisely when Zio had morphed into Dante. A while. Natural, perhaps, when Ben had called her Taylor from the moment he could talk.

  Lunch was a pleasant meal eaten in a conservatory-type informal dining room which offered stunning views out over the vineyard to the distant valley.

  The land, spacious with its patchwork of varied colours, predominantly shades of green against the terracotta clay of the earth, and faint tinges of gold and brown leaves in deference to the approaching northern-hemispheric autumn.

  It was magnificent, Taylor accorded silently. Peaceful, after the city with its bustling cosmopolitan atmosphere, people, traffic.

  ‘August is a lovely time of year,’ Graziella revealed gently. ‘There is warmth in the sun, the sky a beautiful blue, and excitement in the air as the harvest of the grapes draws near.’

  ‘Can we look for the cat and the kittens after lunch?’ Ben asked eagerly, and Dante reached out and ruffled the boy’s hair.

  ‘After lunch, we observe the siesta. Just a short rest, hmm…then I’ll take you and Taylor on a conducted tour.’

  ‘Do we have to rest?’

  ‘A quiet time, in preparation for what remains of the day,’ Graziella explained. ‘Otherwise you will not be able to stay awake for dinner.’

  It had been relatively easy to observe that quiet time while staying in Graziella’s Florence apartment. But here, where there was so much to see and do, it was difficult to get Ben to settle.

  With some encouragement Taylor managed to get him to lie down on the bed he’d selected as his own, while she read him a story.

  It was almost mid-afternoon when Lena appeared and announced Dante was waiting for them downstairs.

  Sunhat, shoes and sunscreen, and they were good to go, and it was Ben who needed to be held back, to walk not run as they descended the stairs to the spacious entry lobby.

  Taylor’s initial thought that Dante’s vineyard was merely a hobby farm was quickly discounted beneath his guidance as they began with the cellars, introductions to staff, an explanation of the process from grape-picking to wine, before emerging into the sunshine and an ins
pection of the first row of vines, where succulent bunches of grapes ripened and matured beneath their protective leaf coverage.

  Dante kept it simple and, although Taylor absorbed the words, much of her attention was taken by his close proximity and its effect on her.

  The sophisticated corporate CEO was on a sabbatical, and in his place was a man dedicated to the land, his land. A place that owed little to billion-dollar deals on an international scale.

  He even looked different…if that was possible.

  With the absence of the formal city attire of tailored suit, buttoned shirt and tie, he bore an earthy persona in well-worn jeans, a black T-shirt moulding his impressive frame, and work boots.

  Ever-present was the latent sensuality he projected with effortless ease, the intrinsic knowledge of women, how to pleasure them and the promise of being a compelling, even primitive, lover.

  It was there in the lazy gleam in those dark eyes, the glimmer of shimmering heat…magnetic, evocative, lethal.

  On one level it almost frightened her. On another it excited and made her yearn for the unobtainable.

  Was he aware of her inner struggle?

  She fervently hoped not.

  Yet with every passing day it became more difficult to portray a friendly but distant persona.

  Sharing custody of Ben was totally different from what she’d originally envisaged. Dante’s degree of involvement was so much more than she had expected, or that he’d led her to believe.

  In Sydney, even when he travelled on business, his presence was there via web-cam and phone calls.

  In Italy, it was a constant. Worse, knowing Graziella was in favour of fostering their relationship.

  As if that was going to happen.

  Three months ago she’d been in control of her life. Yet in a short space of time she’d given up her apartment, moved into a mansion, and now here she was in Italy…all for the love of her orphaned nephew and her commitment to raise him.

  None of which she regretted.

  Dante d’Alessandri’s involvement was something else entirely. Because he affected her…too much.

  It was unsettling. And ever-present was an instinctive feeling Dante had a definite agenda.

  ‘You’re thinking too much.’

  The sound of his musing drawl brought her back to the present, and she offered a wry smile.

  ‘Just absorbing all the interesting information.’

  Dante shot her a quizzical look. ‘One imagines it’s conclusive?’

  The subtext was apparent, and she countered, ‘Supposition or fact?’

  His mouth curved and showed even white teeth. ‘We should talk.’

  Taylor looked at him carefully. ‘There’s nothing to say.’

  ‘I disagree.’

  A change of subject was essential, and she cast her eyes out over the many uniform rows of vines. ‘It’s a beautiful property.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Have you owned it long?’

  ‘Nine years,’ Dante revealed easily. ‘The villa and buildings have been modernised, staff added to ensure the vineyard runs at a premium.’

  ‘There’s a cat!’ Ben announced with excitement, and Dante smiled, directing the child’s attention to a nearby outbuilding. ‘If you follow her carefully, you’ll be able to watch her feeding her kittens. Quietly,’ he cautioned, ‘so you don’t disturb or frighten her.’

  ‘Oh, boy. I’ll be very careful.’

  Taylor watched as he trod almost on tiptoe until both the cat and Ben disappeared, then she turned towards the man standing within touching distance.

  ‘You love it here.’ A statement, not a query.

  ‘It’s where I come to relax.’

  ‘Do you?’ she asked with a degree of cynicism. ‘Relax? Ever?’

  ‘The company of a good woman, family, provides a persuasive element.’

  The mere thought conjured up an image she didn’t want to contemplate. ‘Marriage? All you’ll need to do is crook a finger to whoever takes your fancy from a long line of willing women.’

  ‘Indeed?’

  He watched the fleeting emotions chase across her expressive features for the few seconds it took for her to control them.

  There was no artifice or pretence apparent, coupled with a strength of mind he could only admire. It was her determination to fight to the bitter end for what was right for Ben…something he counted on.

  She intrigued him…cool, laid-back on the surface, and in control. Except she became a chameleon in his arms, sensually alive in a way that made him want more, so much more than she wanted to give.

  Prepared to give, he amended…and recognized the difference.

  She told herself it was the warmth of the sun that caused her head to spin, and knew she lied.

  It wasn’t inconceivable Dante might want to marry, have his own family.

  Except where would that leave Ben? Her?

  Shared custody would take on a whole different meaning.

  Moving back into her apartment wouldn’t pose a problem, but what about Ben? How would he cope being shuffled between two households? And what if Dante shifted base from Sydney?

  They’d be back to square one, in an identical situation when the issue of Ben’s custody had first arisen.

  ‘I trust you’ll give me sufficient notice, so that Ben can be told.’ She knew her voice was stiff and overly polite, but she didn’t care.

  He wanted to shake her, and barely refrained from taking hold of her shoulders and doing so. The only thing that stopped him was the possibility Ben might witness the action. Instead his voice assumed the quality of silk-encased steel, a tone which on occasions made lesser minions tremble.

  ‘Make no mistake,’ Dante began with dangerous quietness, ‘it’s you I want as my wife.’

  Taylor lifted her head slightly and met his gaze with unflinching regard. ‘You’re suggesting a convenient merger,’ she corrected. ‘Formalised by a legal certificate. And the answer is no.’ She waited a beat. ‘Thank you.’

  Whatever reaction she expected, it wasn’t a husky laugh or the humorous gleam apparent in his dark eyes.

  ‘It’s neither the time or place. But understand this,’ he said quietly. ‘I’m far from done.’

  He lifted a hand and brushed the back of his hand down her cheek. ‘Perhaps it might be a good idea to check on Ben and the kittens,’ Dante suggested, turning towards the outbuilding, giving her no choice but to follow as he threaded his fingers through her own…firming his clasp as she attempted to pull free.

  Although her expression softened as she entered the outbuilding and saw Ben crouched down, looking engrossed and breathing softly, beside the box where the mother cat tended her kittens.

  He looked up as he sensed her presence, put a finger to his lips, then returned his attention to the box.

  ‘There are five of them,’ Dante enlightened quietly. ‘Born the day before yesterday.’

  Taylor moved close and rested a hand on Ben’s shoulder. Five tiny heads suckled fiercely, using their front paws to knead their mother’s belly.

  ‘They’re feeding,’ Ben relayed importantly.

  ‘They’re beautiful,’ she said quietly. Or at least they would be when they grew a little and their fur fluffed out.

  ‘We’ll keep one, and find homes for the others.’

  ‘I’m glad.’ So she had a soft heart, for animals as well as children.

  ‘Can we stay and watch them?’

  Taylor examined Ben’s rapt features and inclined her head. ‘Just for another minute or two. Their mother will want them to sleep soon.’

  ‘We can check again later.’ Dante leant down and lifted Ben high onto his shoulders. ‘But now we’re going to take a tour of the house.’

  Modern blended with the old…skilfully so, owing much to the tradesmen’s skill to ensure little compromised the architecture or history, Taylor perceived as they moved from room to room.

  High vaulted ceilings, plastered int
erior walls, large terracotta-tiled floors covered in huge patterned rugs.

  Formal lounge, media room, library, formal dining room, a spacious home office, a guest suite which Graziella used whenever she visited, as well as a magnificent kitchen, the conservatory-style informal dining room, and to one side of a renovated addition was a large tinted-glass-enclosed swimming pool. Upstairs comprised two distinct wings, one which Dante claimed for his own use, comprising a master suite, private lounge and a personal home office fitted with what appeared to be an array of advanced electronic technology.

  The opposite wing held three guest suites, two of which Taylor and Ben occupied.

  No money had been spared in the renovation upgrading, and the result was breathtaking.

  ‘If you’ll excuse me, I need to consult with the head vintner.’ He released Ben down onto his feet. ‘If you ask Taylor nicely, she might allow you to ride the new bike Mario has brought around to the front entrance.’

  Ben gazed up at Dante in open adoration. ‘A bike? You bought me a bike?’ He transferred his attention to Taylor.

  ‘Can I ride it? Please?’

  How could she refuse?

  They spent a fun hour as Ben put the bike through its paces, followed by another peek at the mother cat with her kittens.

  Dinner proved a convivial meal, with a divine pasta dish and salad served by Lena, where much of the conversation involved Ben, the vineyard, the bike, and perhaps high on his list…the cat and her kittens.

  The result was one tired little boy at day’s end, who fell asleep before the first page was turned of his bedtime story.

  ‘He’s having the time of his life,’ Taylor offered as Dante closed Ben’s bedroom door. ‘Thank you.’

  He was standing close, and she resisted the temptation to step back a pace as he regarded her solemnly. ‘And you, Taylor? Are you equally content here?’

  What could she say? ‘You have a lovely home, and the vineyard is magnificent.’

  His mouth curved with humour. ‘Very politely spoken.’