The Italian’s Miracle Family Page 6

  ‘What am I doing?’ she whispered. ‘I must be mad. Everything that happened last night just wasn’t real. I’ve got to get home to England, then everything will be normal again.’

  Using the river as a guide, she finally managed to make her way back to the hotel.

  ‘There are some messages for you,’ the young man at the desk told her, pushing a paper towards her. ‘The gentleman sounded urgent.’

  ‘Thank you. Please have my bill ready first thing tomorrow. I want to leave early. And, if anyone else should call, please tell them I haven’t returned.’

  She was booked on the two o’clock flight the next day; she would leave for the airport as early as possible. In her room she packed hurriedly, ignoring the phone when it began to ring.

  She was afraid he would turn up at her hotel, but to her relief he didn’t. At last the phone stopped ringing, and she gave muttered thanks that Drago had given up.

  Next morning she left quickly. Luck was with her. There was an earlier flight with vacant seats and she managed to change her ticket. After checking in, she went to wait in the departure lounge, telling herself that soon she would be free. Just a little longer…

  ‘Excuse me, signorina.’

  She looked up to find a man in uniform.

  ‘Signorina Dennis?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Will you come with me, please?’

  ‘But I’m about to board the plane.’

  ‘I’m afraid you can’t do so until we have cleared up a small matter.’

  His manner was pleasant but firm, and she yielded reluctantly.

  ‘This way to my office,’ he said.

  She followed him, impatient to hear his explanation, but when they reached his office he showed her in and retreated, closing the door, leaving Alysa alone with the man who was waiting there.

  ‘You!’ she said angrily. ‘I might have known!’

  Drago didn’t reply immediately, and she had time to study him. Now she wondered how she’d recognised him. If his face had been haggard the day before, it was deathly now. A man who’d seen a ghastly vision might have had his burning eyes. But she refused to feel sympathy. She couldn’t afford it.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he said at last. ‘I would much rather not have had to do this, but something has happened. You can’t go back to England until you know everything.’

  ‘There you go again, telling me what I can and can’t do. Who do you think you are?’

  ‘I’m the only person in the world who can fill the gaps in your knowledge, just as you did for me-except that there’s much more than either of us dreamed.’

  ‘I don’t want to know. You must be mad to-Actually getting someone to fetch me from the departure lounge-how did you do that?’

  ‘Pietro, the young man who brought you here, owes me a favour.’

  ‘And what about my luggage? It’s on the plane.’

  ‘It’ll be retrieved.’

  ‘It must be a very big favour,’ she said bitingly.

  ‘I wouldn’t have done it if I hadn’t been at my wits’ end. You ignored my messages, and when I went to your hotel this morning they said you’d left early. But I checked your flight and it was two o’clock. I thought I’d find you easily, but I discovered that you’d changed to the earlier flight. I had to do something.’

  ‘And everyone had to simply step aside,’ she seethed. ‘But not me. I’m going back to get on the plane, and don’t you dare to stop me. Get out of my way!’

  Drago had positioned himself between her and the door, and showed no sign of moving.

  ‘You’re not leaving,’ he said quietly. ‘You’re coming with me.’

  ‘So now I’m a prisoner?’

  ‘If you like to put it that way. I’m sorry. I don’t like behaving like this, but I have no choice. Alysa, for pity’s sake, won’t you try to understand?’

  ‘I understand that everyone has to do what you want because you don’t recognise the word no. Enough! I’m not a pawn for you to move around, and I’m leaving right now.’

  ‘This is important!’

  ‘I don’t care what it is. I’m finished. Now, for the last time, get out of my way!’

  He didn’t budge. If anything he seemed to dig himself in further, and Alysa prepared for battle. If he thought he could make her yield again, he would learn that he was mistaken.

  But then something happened that caught her off-balance. Suddenly his shoulders sagged, as if a vital link had snapped inside him. Without further argument he pulled open the door and spoke heavily.

  ‘Pietro, please escort the signorina back to the departure lounge.’

  He moved out of Alysa’s path, and she hurried to the door.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I really have to go.’

  She could have got away then but she made the mistake of turning back and seeing something she would much rather not have seen. Drago looked defeated, as if he’d simply abandoned all hope.

  ‘Please try to understand,’ she begged.

  ‘I do understand. You’d better go quickly.’

  But instead of leaving she made her next mistake: going to look him in the eye, and saying, ‘I don’t want you to think-Look at me.’ She put a hand on his arm and he raised his head to meet her gaze. His aggression had died, leaving only weariness behind. ‘You’re not being fair,’ she protested desperately. ‘You must realise that I can’t-’

  ‘I know,’ he agreed. ‘I shouldn’t have done it this way. I was desperate, but you’re right, it’s not really your problem. You’ve done all you could, and I’m grateful.’

  ‘And now I have to return to whatever I can make of my life, because I can’t-Oh, all right!’ The last words were almost a shout of exasperation.

  ‘All right? What does that mean?’

  ‘It means I give in. You’ve won. The new tactic worked. I’ll come with you.’

  The joy on his face was a startling revelation. The next moment she was engulfed in a bear hug. Somehow she found herself returning it, even laughing with him, because the violence of his relief was infectious.

  ‘Just let me breathe,’ she gasped.

  He drew back to look at her. ‘Thank you,’ he said fervently.

  ‘Just don’t ever do this to me again.’

  ‘When this is over, I swear you’ll never have to see me. Let’s go.’

  ‘Yes, let’s, before I change my mind. What about my bags? They’ll be on the plane by now.’

  ‘Pietro will get them off, and he knows where to send them. Come on.’

  CHAPTER FIVE

  O UTSIDE he showed her to his car-not the one he’d driven before, but far larger and more powerful. He swung confidently out of the airport onto the main road and drove fast for a few miles before swinging off.

  ‘Where are you going?’ she asked. ‘This isn’t the way to Florence.’

  ‘We’re not going to Florence, we’re going to another little place I own, in the mountains. We need privacy.’

  ‘What about Tina?’

  ‘She and Elena are spending a few days with her aunt and uncle. You saw them at the cemetery.’

  ‘So if they’re gone why can’t we have privacy in your house in Florence?’

  ‘Because I have curious employees. I want total isolation, and we’ll only get that in the mountains.’

  Total isolation with this man, cut off from help if things went wrong. The thought should have made her nervous, but it didn’t. She’d already been through the worst. Now they were like two comrades facing enemy fire together. To be comrades you only needed trust. And, despite his outrageous behaviour, she did trust him.

  The land began to slope gently upwards; the buildings became further apart. Sometimes the road wound its way among tall trees for miles, so that it felt as though they were the only two people in the world. Despite the time of year the weather was bright, and the sun glittered through the branches, dappling the way ahead.

  Suddenly
there was a gap in the trees, revealing the land sloping away. Alysa watched, fascinated, as they climbed higher and higher, seeming to leave the ground behind, soaring into a different world.

  At last the road levelled out and they were driving through a small village. Drago stopped the car.

  ‘I’m just going to buy a few things,’ he said. ‘Will you come with me, or wait here?’

  ‘I’ll come with you.’

  At any other time she would have found the village fascinating, coming, as it seemed to, from another age. Some streets were cobbled; the buildings were large and decorative, with archways extending out over the pavement. Impossible to imagine a supermarket here. Drago went from shop to shop, buying fresh meat and vegetables with the confidence of an expert. Every shopkeeper knew him.

  ‘Haven’t seen you here for a while, signore,’ one observed. ‘Nice to have you back. I’ve got something in stock that I think you’ll like.’

  Then there was bread, cheese, milk and oil to be bought. Again the counter assistants greeted him as an old friend and produced his favourite items at once.

  ‘Don’t worry, I’m a good cook,’ he told Alysa.

  ‘Yes, I was really worried about that,’ she said dryly.

  He gave her a look of appreciation for this sally, and handed her a couple of bags to carry. Since he was weighed down by even more bags himself, she couldn’t even protest.

  She told herself that she’d been kidnapped, and it was an outrage, but it felt more like going on a picnic. There was only one thing to do, and that was to stop fighting it and go with the flow.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ Drago asked her.

  ‘Matter?’

  ‘You were staring into the distance.’

  ‘Nothing’s the matter,’ she said robustly. ‘Come on. Let’s get going.’

  Then they were on the road again, climbing among the trees, until he turned suddenly, and in a few moments they were drawing up before a small villa. There were no lights on and the place looked glum and chilly. She shivered as he unlocked the door.

  ‘It’ll be better when I’ve lit the range,’ he said. ‘It starts the central heating.’

  ‘You have to do that by hand?’

  ‘This is the mountains,’ he said by way of explanation. ‘It’s different up here. Why don’t you unpack the food in the kitchen-but don’t touch anything apart from that.’

  ‘I should be used to you ordering me about by now,’ she observed.

  ‘Yes, you should.’

  He got to work on the range in the kitchen, piling logs in until the flames flickered up between them, then tossing charcoal on top. When two dials on the pipes showed the same high temperature, he switched on the central heating, and the place began to warm up quickly.

  She began to wander around, somewhat surprised by the cosy informality of the place, which had none of the studied luxury to be found in the Florence villa. Here there were wooden floors with rugs tossed about, apparently casually. The furniture was old, even slightly shabby, and the place had a friendly atmosphere that appealed to her.

  The villa was built on a steep slope, with the garage at the bottom. Next to it was a woodshed, and the rest of the place was built on top, so that, looking out of the window, she found she was on a level with the branches of the trees. The light was beginning to fade, so that she could see only shadows below, and the effect was like floating away from the earth.

  ‘This is yours,’ Drago said, opening a door and showing her into a room dominated by a large bed.

  ‘How long are you planning for me to stay?’ she asked.

  ‘I think we’ll be here tomorrow, and perhaps leave the day after. It depends on a lot of things.’

  ‘Why don’t you tell me why I’m here?’

  ‘Let’s eat first. Your bags should arrive soon.’

  When he’d gone she took out her mobile phone and called her office. She’d booked herself a week off, but had hinted that she would return earlier-which had won the approval of her boss, Brian Hawk, who had always helped and encouraged her. Now she told him that she would take the full week.

  ‘I wish you’d given me a bit more warning,’ he grumbled. ‘There’s a lot happening at the moment.’

  ‘I’ve been detained by something unexpected,’ she said truthfully.

  ‘Well, I hope you sort it out soon. Your prospects are bright, Alysa. Don’t spoil them by being unreliable.’

  When she’d hung up she sat considering these last words, wondering why she wasn’t filled with alarm. Her dream was to be offered a partnership, and for this she’d worked hard and sometimes brilliantly, earning Brian’s praise. In the last year she’d redoubled her efforts, staying in the office late to avoid returning to her empty apartment, and then taking work home with her.

  Once Brian’s warning would have alerted her to danger, but now the words seemed to come from a distance. It was true, of course. She would have to be careful. But she could think about it later.

  Looking at the double bed, she wondered if this was the room where Drago and Carlotta had slept together. A glance into the wardrobe confirmed it. Some of Carlotta’s clothes were still here, suggesting that she’d abandoned them when she’d begun her new life, and Drago couldn’t bring himself to dispose of them.

  When she emerged a few minutes later he was already at work in the kitchen, doing something mysterious with oil and vegetables.

  ‘The one thing I never thought of you doing was cooking,’ she mused, studying him.

  ‘We’re not like the English, who think cooking’s sissy unless you’re a celebrity chef earning a fortune. My mother thought a man wasn’t a real man unless he could cook.’

  ‘What are you making?’

  ‘Pappa al pomadoro-bread cooked with garlic, parsley, basil, salt, oil and tomatoes.’

  ‘I’m impressed. And afterwards?’

  ‘Just be patient.’

  He was immersed in what he was doing, and seemed to have forgotten the reason he’d brought her here, although he’d claimed it was important. With another man she might have suspected a trick to lure her into a seduction, but not with Drago. He was in the grip of a purpose so inflexible that he could afford to set it aside until the right moment.

  ‘Can I do anything to help?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes, you could watch this saucepan while I light the fire in the other room.’

  ‘A fire as well as central heating?’

  ‘Wait till you see it.’

  A few minutes later she understood. The fire, nestled in a neat grate, was small but delightful, throwing darting lights over the room. While it offered little heat, it created an atmosphere of warmth and comfort that no central heating could match.

  ‘My mother always lit a fire in the evenings,’ Drago said. ‘When I looked this place over the agent said it could all be renovated and the fireplace taken out. I told him to forget it. I wanted everything left just as it was.’

  ‘Is this the place you told me about, where you and Carlotta came when you married?’

  ‘Yes, it is. After she died I wanted to sell it, but Tina loves it, so I couldn’t. Perhaps I shouldn’t have brought you up here, but I couldn’t think of anywhere else where we’d have some privacy.’

  ‘It’s all right. Is there anything more I can do?’

  ‘You could lay the table. You’ll find everything over there, including wine glasses.’

  He indicated an old-fashioned dresser and she got to work, finding a table cloth and cutlery. In a few minutes Drago emerged from the kitchen to serve the first course and open a bottle of white wine.

  She suddenly realised that she was ravenous. She’d left the hotel too quickly to eat very much, and had managed only a sandwich at the airport. The pappa al pomadoro had a delicious smell that drove everything else out of her head, and the taste was every bit as good.

  ‘I needed this,’ she said with a sigh.

  ‘After the day I’ve given you, you mean?’

&
nbsp; ‘Well, I admit you’re making up for it.’

  ‘One thing I’ve been wanting to ask you-when you agreed to come with me, you said, “the new tactic worked”. What did you mean by that?’

  ‘You know very well what I meant by that,’ she said indignantly. ‘When giving me orders didn’t work, you backed off and played the reasonable card.’

  ‘Is that what I did?’

  ‘Didn’t you?’

  He hesitated. ‘It wasn’t all calculated. I could see I was doing everything wrong, driving you away. I tend to approach things with hobnailed boots, I know that. And when it doesn’t work…’He made a helpless gesture. ‘I sometimes don’t know what to do next. And just then-I felt like such a loser. I didn’t have the heart to fight any more.’

  ‘You?’ she asked with a hint of teasing. ‘Stop fighting?’

  He gave her a wry look. ‘I guess I deserved that. It’s almost funny that you accused me of playing the “reasonable card”. I’m not good at being reasonable. Ask anyone who knows me.’

  ‘I don’t need to. I’m beginning to know you myself.’

  ‘That’s an unnerving thought.’

  ‘Why? You don’t try to hide it. Everything’s upfront. Can I have some more of this?’

  ‘Just a little. You’ve got to leave room for the steak.’

  The steak was delicious, followed by a loaf made of flour, sugar, eggs and butter. With each course he changed the wine.

  ‘I won’t ask why you vanished so suddenly yesterday,’ Drago said. ‘I guess I asked for it. But I tried to call you for the rest of the day, and you’d switched your phone off. I wondered if you’d gone back to the waterfall so that you could see it without a crowd.’

  ‘No, I just went walking around Florence.’

  The constraint in her voice made him look at her quickly and ask, ‘Did you go back to their apartment?’

  ‘No, why should you think that?’

  ‘Because something happened yesterday that hurt you more than you have been already.’

  ‘Well, yes.’

  ‘Can’t you tell me?’ he asked when she fell silent.

  ‘You remember I said that when James came back from Florence in September he was a bit strange?’ Drago nodded. ‘But I didn’t mention the padlock I found in his things. Yesterday I found out about Benvenuto Cellini.’