Millionaire Tycoon's English Rose Read online

  A little time to hope for the miracle that would never happen. A little time before the pain would have to be faced. Finally.

  He went into the bathroom and came out with a damp flannel to clean the graze on her lip. A tiny bruise was just beginning. Now it didn’t seem right that they were almost naked.

  ‘I’ll get dressed,’ he said.

  But then he dropped his head and lay his lips against her breast. She drew a shuddering breath and tried to clasp her hands about his head, but he rose quickly and left her. After a moment she, too, moved into the bedroom to get dressed.

  ‘Perhaps I should go now,’ he said heavily.

  Before she could reply the doorbell shrilled.

  ‘I’m not expecting anyone,’ she said. ‘Would you go?’

  Outside her front door he found a man in his fifties with an eager, nervous look.

  ‘Does Signorina Ryland live here?’ he asked. ‘I was told she did.’

  At the sound of his voice something happened to Jacko. He’d been curled up peacefully, but suddenly his head lifted and he was alert with his whole body. A soft ‘Wuff!’ escaped him.

  Francesco ushered him in. Celia emerged to face the newcomer, frowning slightly.

  ‘Signorina,’ the man said earnestly, ‘I am Antonio Feltona, and I have come to beg you to grant me a favour.’

  ‘Feltona,’ she murmured, then her brow cleared. ‘Jacko was yours, wasn’t he?’

  ‘That’s true. Then my sight came back and I no longer needed a guide dog.’

  ‘And they gave him to me because I need someone with his experience in this city,’ she recalled. ‘Have you come to make sure he’s all right? Here he is.’

  As she spoke Jacko leapt up, yelping with delight, and hurled himself on his old master. Antonio dropped to his knees and embraced the eager dog, cooing affection into his ears.

  ‘That’s what’s been wrong with Jacko all this time,’ Francesco murmured.

  ‘Something has been wrong?’ the man asked.

  ‘Only that he’s seemed a bit listless, and not very happy,’ Francesco explained.

  ‘Yes,’ Signor Feltona said, rising. ‘My family loves him, and he loves us. When I regained my sight it seemed natural for him to be given to someone who needed him, but I think he was too old to make this move. And so I have come to ask you—to plead with you—to let us have him back.’

  ‘What?’ Celia was thunderstruck.

  ‘I know it will be hard for you, but there are other dogs.’

  ‘Not for me,’ she said, agitated. ‘It’s his years of experience that make him valuable to me in the way a young dog couldn’t be. No, I’m sorry. I can’t do without him.’

  ‘Please, signorina, won’t you even think about it for a while?’

  ‘No, there’s nothing to think about. I’m sorry. It’s out of the question.’

  Celia turned and fled towards the kitchen door, her hands outstretched to prevent another collision. She just managed to avoid the wall, but it was a near thing.

  It distressed her that Francesco should have seen this happen. After all she’d said about independence. How he would gloat!

  But then his hands were on her gently, his voice in her ear.

  ‘Steady, carissima. Just a little to your left. Just here.’

  He edged her through the door into the kitchen and towards a chair.

  ‘Sit down and I’ll pour you a drink.’

  She sat, trying to understand what was happening to her. She’d always been proud of her own confident efficiency, but suddenly she was swamped by fear. It swept over her in waves, making coherent thought impossible. Instead of giving calm consideration to the proposal, she’d blurted out her terrified resistance.

  She felt a glass pushed into her hand and drank it without asking what it was. It was brandy.

  ‘Thanks. I needed that,’ she said huskily. ‘Poor man. I didn’t mean to shout at him.’

  ‘It’s not like you to lose it,’ he said gently.

  ‘I don’t know what came over me. It’s just that—I rely on Jacko so much. He’s my lifeline. Another dog wouldn’t be the same.’

  ‘He could be trained to be as good. After a while it would be exactly the same.’

  ‘But that would take time. This place is still new to me—Oh, I know I’m being selfish. You’re right about Jacko. He’s done his duty faithfully, but I’ve always sensed something not quite right, and now I know what it is. His heart’s breaking. I ought to let him go, but how can I? I’d be lost without him.’

  It passed across Fransesco’s mind that she hadn’t been lost without him, but he banished the jealous thought quickly, overtaken by another thought, one so startling that he pulled away from her to walk the room lest his eagerness show too clearly in his manner.

  It was impossible, and yet…

  ‘He’s not the only dog in the world,’ he began carefully. ‘You’d have had to have another one eventually.’

  ‘But if he goes now, what can I do?’

  He drew a slow breath. Now was his last chance to draw back from the colossal risk he was about to take. But there would be no drawing back. It was the biggest gamble of his life, but he must take it or lose her. And she was worth everything.

  ‘You can use me,’ he said.

  She turned her head sharply, as if staring at him.

  ‘What did you say?’

  ‘Let me be your dog. Make use of me.’

  ‘Francesco, be serious.’

  ‘I am serious,’ he said, walking back and dropping down on his knees beside her. ‘Listen to me, Celia. I know I sound crazy, but you’re the one who’s always talking about the virtues of craziness.’

  ‘For me, not for you,’ she protested.

  ‘You think I’m not good enough to be crazy, huh? Let me show you.’

  ‘Caro, this is madness. You don’t know what you’re suggesting. You’d have to be with me constantly. What about your own work?’

  ‘That can manage without me for a while. What is it, Celia? Can’t you trust me? I can do the job as well as a dog, I swear it. I know all the commands—stop, start, stand, sit. I’ll even wear a harness.’

  His clowning made her laugh, but there was still a serious doubt in her heart.

  ‘I know you mean it,’ she said, ‘and it’s a wonderful offer. But it would be so much harder than you think.’

  ‘I’ll do everything your way. When you don’t need me, you won’t even know I’m there. Isn’t that enough?’

  She hesitated, not knowing how to put it into words, and at last he came to her rescue.

  ‘Once a bully, always a bully,’ he said softly.

  ‘No—no—’

  ‘The dog is your independence, but that means independence from me. I should have understood that.’

  ‘I don’t always want to be independent from you,’ she said in despair.

  ‘I know, but we can’t—I can’t seem to stop blurring the lines. Knowing when to back off is something I never learned. I could try but—well, you know me. The man who shuts his ears.’

  ‘Don’t—please don’t,’ she whispered.

  ‘I’m not saying that to be unkind, just reminding you that you got it right about me. You made your decision for us to part and it was a good one.’

  ‘A good one for you?’ she whispered.

  He sighed and leaned his forehead against hers.

  ‘It’ll never be good for me without you. But I’m not good for you. It took me too long to see that, and if I’d had any sense I’d never have suggested taking Jacko’s place. You keep him as long as you need him. Trusty friends are hard to replace.’

  ‘Yes, I’d better go back and tell them.’ She reached for his arm. ‘It’s all right,’ she said. ‘I can find my way, but I’m clinging to you for moral support.’

  ‘I do have some uses,’ he said lightly. ‘Let’s go.’

  He stopped, silenced by the sight that met him as they entered the other room. Signor Feltona was
sitting on the sofa with Jacko at his feet. The dog’s head was turned up to him in an attitude of adoration.

  ‘What is it?’ she asked in a hurried under-voice.

  ‘It’s them—the way they’re sitting together.’

  Signor Feltona heard them and looked up quickly, his face full of hope that died when he saw their faces.

  ‘Please—’ he said.

  ‘I can’t—just yet,’ Celia told him. ‘But I’ll get in touch with the society and ask for another dog very quickly. So you might get him back soon. That really is the best I can do.’

  The man’s shoulders sagged, and so did Jacko’s, it seemed to Francesco. He told himself to stop being sentimental, but there was an air of misery about the dog that suggested he’d followed what was happening.

  ‘I see,’ Signor Feltona said heavily. ‘I had hoped—my children love him so much—but I may tell them that they can still hope?’

  ‘I’ll do it as soon as I can,’ Celia assured him. ‘I’m sorry. It’s just—’

  ‘I understand,’ he said in a husky voice. ‘I’ll leave you now.’

  He rose and prepared to be gone. A soft whine broke from Jacko.

  ‘It’s all right, boy,’ he said. ‘Stay. Maybe later. Now, say goodbye to me.’

  He dropped to one knee and embraced Jacko, who whined again in misery.

  ‘All right, now. We’ll be together again soon, I promise. No, no—you mustn’t do that. Get down, boy.’

  ‘What is it?’ Celia asked.

  ‘He’s trying to go, too,’ Francesco said.

  ‘It’s nothing,’ Signor Feltona said hurriedly. ‘He’s just a little distressed. Please don’t be angry with him. He’s a good boy.’

  ‘Of course he is,’ Celia said. ‘Come here, Jacko.’

  She held out her hand. For a moment it seemed that Jacko would defy her, but then he seemed to abandon hope and moved slowly forward until he was in front of her.

  ‘Goodbye,’ said Signor Feltona, turning towards the door.

  Jacko didn’t move, but a wail of such anguish broke from him that it froze everyone who heard it. He laid his snout in Celia’s hand while wave upon wave of despair came from his throat as a lifetime’s discipline struggled with heartbreak.

  ‘Wait!’ Celia called. ‘Don’t go. Francesco, stop him.’

  ‘No need,’ Francesco said, going to where their visitor was standing frozen, joy and disbelief warring on his face. ‘Come back, signore.’

  ‘Go on,’ Celia said, giving Jacko a little push.

  Nothing would have stopped him then. The dog bounded across the room to hurl himself into his old owner’s arms so fiercely that the two of them landed on the sofa.

  ‘Forgive me,’ Antonio said, recovering some poise but still clinging to Jacko. ‘Do you mean—’

  ‘Jacko belongs with you,’ Celia said. ‘He can’t bear to be parted from you. I won’t force him to stay.’

  ‘You mean it?’ he asked incredulously. ‘You really mean it?’

  ‘I mean every word. Take him with you now, and I’ll make it all right with the society.’

  ‘But what will you do before you get a new dog?’ Having got what he wanted, Antonio was suddenly assailed by conscience.

  ‘Don’t worry about me,’ Celia said. ‘I have a friend who will look after me. Now, take Jacko quickly.’

  ‘First we say thank you,’ Feltona said. He touched Jacko gently, whispering, ‘Go.’

  She dropped to her knees for one last embrace and the dog came into her arms—willingly this time. Francesco watched as he nuzzled her and she buried her face against him. When she released him he put up a paw as if to have one last contact.

  He understands, Francesco thought. He’s a dog, but he knows she’s made a sacrifice for him.

  ‘Goodbye,’ she said at last, huskily. ‘Be happy. Good dog.’

  Celia came with them to the door. Francesco came, too, watching her closely, seeing how close she was to weeping. She controlled herself until the door had closed, then she leaned against it, making no effort to hide the tears that now streamed down her face.

  ‘That was a very brave and generous thing you did,’ he said gently.

  ‘No, it wasn’t. I should have let him go at once. How could I be so cruel as to keep the poor creature here against his will?’

  ‘But you didn’t.’

  ‘I was going to be so practical. But I could feel his misery and I couldn’t bear it.’

  ‘I’m glad,’ he said.

  ‘But just think of the ramifications of this,’ she cried.

  ‘It’s actually very simple. Tomorrow you contact the society, explain what happened and ask them to find you another dog. In the meantime, just call me Jacko.’

  ‘You know what you’ve let yourself in for, don’t you?’

  ‘And you know that I am willing.’

  ‘I must be crazy.’

  ‘Hey, play fair! Don’t keep all the craziness to yourself. I’ve earned some, too.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’ she asked, laughing weakly.

  ‘Well, I know that for you only crazy people count, and I’m doing my best.’

  ‘Oh, caro, will I ever understand you?’ She sighed.

  ‘Probably not. But you could make me a coffee.’

  As they sat in the kitchen he said, ‘So, tell me about my duties. Shall I wear a harness?’

  Her lips twitched. ‘I think I can let you off the harness. But you have to obey my every command. Sit when I say sit.’

  ‘Curl up under your chair when you don’t need me?’

  ‘I’d love to tell you to do just that,’ she mused. ‘I think I might just enjoy this. Whether you will is another matter.’

  ‘I’ve told you—I’m a slave to your every whim. Well, except for one thing. I draw the line at the pooper-scooper.’

  She gave a little choke of laughter that enchanted him. ‘Hmm! So much for being my slave.’

  ‘I’ll be Jacko’s substitute in every other way,’ he promised. ‘I’ll even sleep at the foot of your bed.’

  ‘You’ll sleep in the spare room like a good doggie,’ she told him firmly.

  ‘Wuff!’ he said.

  CHAPTER NINE

  THE next day they drove to the Villa Rinucci to collect his things. Knowing his mother, Francesco took the precaution of telephoning her first, to explain that this was strictly a practical arrangement, and would she kindly refrain from asking Celia when the wedding was going to be?

  ‘Please, Mamma—unless you want me to die of embarrassment.’

  Hope promised to be good, and contented herself with loading Celia with gifts of home-baked treats, which she received with delight. Then it was back to the apartment for him to unpack and settle into the spare room, where they made the bed together.

  As they were preparing a meal she said, ‘I called the society. They were very understanding and said they’ll find me another dog, but it may take a couple of months. I hope you won’t find that awkward.’

  ‘I hope you won’t,’ he said. ‘I know you don’t want me around that long.’

  ‘We’ll just have to try to endure each other,’ she said lightly.

  The exchange was pleasant enough, but behind it they were each assessing a situation that had taken them by surprise.

  They spent the evening working in their various ways. Francesco had brought his laptop so that he could direct the firm as far as possible.

  ‘Is this going to damage you?’ she asked worriedly. ‘Your business is only just starting and the boss is deserting it.’

  ‘I can still go in for a few hours. You can come with me. It’ll help you assess our progress for your report.’

  At last he said, ‘Isn’t it time for the evening walk? We both need some fresh air.’

  Francesco found that he was nervous. Earlier in the day he’d taken her arm for a few moments when they’d visited the villa, but that had been too brief to count. And in the apartment she knew her way a
round. But this would be the real test—the first time she would be completely reliant on him.

  She took his arm as they left the building and went down the three stone steps together.

  ‘Let’s head for the docks,’ she said. ‘Or shall we go the other way and wander around the shops?’

  ‘You’re the boss. Isn’t that what Jacko would have said?’

  ‘No, he wouldn’t, and nor would Wicksy. In many ways they were the boss. Let’s head for the port.’

  As they walked he asked, ‘How was Jacko the boss?’

  ‘If I wanted to cross the road and he could see that it wasn’t safe he’d refuse. I’d say, Go forward, and he’d just sit there, sometimes actually on my foot so that I knew he meant business. He could see the danger, so I had to take his advice.’

  ‘Yes, I saw that once or twice,’ he recalled. ‘I thought he was being awkward.’

  ‘No, he was doing his job. And sometimes he’d obey me in a roundabout way. If I said, Forward, and the way was blocked, he’d go sideways and find a way to negotiate the problem.’ She squeezed his arm. ‘He was a clever dog. He knew there was more than one way forward.’

  ‘Yes, I guess he did,’ Francesco murmured.

  They wandered the short distance towards the sea, and she stood breathing in the odours of a busy port.

  ‘That’s good,’ she said. ‘I love the sea.’

  He made a non-committal reply and she let it drop, remembering that the sea conjured up unfortunate memories for him.

  ‘Do you want to go in any particular direction?’ he asked.

  ‘No, I don’t know any details. Jacko was a good guide, but he never told me how things looked.’

  After a moment he realised that she had made a joke, but by then it was too late to respond.

  ‘What do you want to know?’

  ‘Tell me about the boats.’

  He did so, describing the ferries that came and went while she leaned on the wall that overlooked the water, an expression of total absorption on her face. At last she sighed and reached out for him.

  ‘Let’s go,’ she said. ‘Francesco?’

  For a moment she touched only empty air, and she was suddenly full of tension.

  ‘I’m here,’ he said, quickly taking her hand. ‘Sorry—my mind wandered for a moment.’