Tall, Dark and Italian. Carol Marinelli
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with a weak attempt at humour, ‘Blame your mother. I got used to defending myself with her.’
Castelli’s lips tightened. ‘You do it very well,’ he said, facing her across the narrow divide. ‘But you are wrong about me. My opinion of my own character is very poor.’
‘Is it?’
Tess couldn’t prevent the rejoinder and, because it seemed as if she couldn’t speak to him without being provoking, she picked up the bottle of wine she’d left on the counter earlier. The label meant nothing to her but she pretended to examine it anyway. Anything to avoid looking at him, from responding to that dangerous sexuality that he wore as naturally as his skin.
‘It seems you had the last word. As far as my mother was concerned,’ he said after a moment, and she wondered if he was trying to defuse the situation, too. It made it even harder to remember why she’d been so angry with him. But at least talking about his mother seemed harmless enough.
‘It was only because she got upset,’ she admitted now, putting down the bottle and opening a drawer. Rummaging around for the corkscrew gave her another excuse not to look at him. ‘I suggested she went into the office to compose herself. Then she let herself out the back without even closing the door behind her.’
Castelli snorted. ‘She got upset,’ he echoed disbelievingly. ‘That does not sound like the woman I know. Cara, Lucia does not get upset. Not unless it is for some purpose of her own.’
‘Well, perhaps she wanted to spend some time alone in the office,’ offered Tess, finding the corkscrew and pulling a rueful face. ‘I—well, I’m not absolutely sure about this, but I think she might have searched Ashley’s desk.’
‘Non credo!’ Castelli was shocked, she could tell. ‘No. Lucia may be many things, cara, but she is not a thief!’
‘I believe you.’ Tess sighed. ‘But I think she was looking for something all the same.’
‘Cosa?’ What?
Tess shrugged, and then, because she’d succeeded in finding the corkscrew, she felt obliged to use it. She was fitting the screw into the cork when Castelli came round the bar and took the implement from her. ‘Let me do that,’ he said, with obvious impatience. ‘Then perhaps you will explain what you are talking about.’
Tess didn’t argue with him. Stepping back, she let him have his way. But the kitchenette was tiny and he was now much too close for comfort. She couldn’t get past him. Not without rubbing up against him. And that was the last thing she wanted to do in her present state of emotional upheaval.
Instead, she kept her gaze riveted on his hands in an effort to distract herself. But she was uncomfortably aware of the strength in his chest and arms, the way his tight shirt outlined the taut muscles of his stomach.
He was all male, all man, and she wouldn’t have been human if she hadn’t responded to it. Particularly after what had happened between them before. Her breasts puckered in anticipation of a caress they were not going to receive, and she crossed her arms across her body in an effort to hide her reaction from him.
Her mouth was dry and, realising he was waiting for an explanation, she said quickly, ‘I think your mother was looking for information about Ashley. Perhaps she thought I’d missed something when I looked through the desk myself.’
Castelli pulled out the cork before replying. Then, setting the bottle down on the counter, he said, ‘So did she find anything?’
‘Not as far as I know.’ Tess was wary. ‘Why? Do you think she did?’
Castelli made a dismissive gesture. ‘Until this moment, I did not even know she had visited the gallery,’ he said drily. He frowned. ‘But I have not seen her today, so who knows?’
Tess’s lips parted. ‘I hope you don’t still think I’ve been keeping Ashley’s whereabouts a secret from you,’ she exclaimed indignantly, and Castelli gave her a speaking look. ‘You needn’t deny it,’ she continued hotly. ‘That’s why you’ve come here, isn’t it? Because your mother’s disappeared and you think I might know where she’s gone?’
‘Do not be so ridiculous,’ he told her impatiently. ‘I have just told you, I did not even know Lucia had been to the gallery when I came here.’
‘So you said.’
‘What is that supposed to mean?’
‘Well, I only have your word that you didn’t know about her visit,’ said Tess challengingly. ‘And you must admit, you haven’t given me a good reason for coming here yet.’
Castelli leaned back against the counter, resting his hands on the worn plastic at either side of him. Then, with gentle irony, he said, ‘Well, obviously I am not here at your invitation. Let us be honest with one another. Do you want me to go?’
Yes!
But she couldn’t say it. Didn’t want to say it, if she was completely truthful with herself.
‘I’m sure you know exactly what I want,’ she said at last, turning away to open the cupboard door above her. But as he’d opened the wine, it would be churlish not to offer him a glass. ‘I think there are some glasses in here somewhere. Why don’t you have some wine before you go?’
‘Do I have a choice?’
She started, almost dropping the two glasses she’d found in the cupboard. The words had been spoken immediately behind her, his warm breath fanning the damp curls that nestled at her nape.
Looking down, she saw he had placed a hand on the unit at either side of her now and she was successfully trapped within the barrier of his arms. If she turned around, her face would only be inches from his. Goodness knew if there’d be room enough to take a breath and she didn’t feel confident enough to try.
‘What are you doing?’ she asked instead, amazed her voice sounded almost normal. ‘Do you want some wine or don’t you?’
‘If it is anything like your coffee, perhaps I will pass,’ he chided lightly. And then, with sudden passion, ‘Dio, Tess, are you ever going to forgive me for what happened yesterday? I know I hurt you. Do not bother to deny it. And I want you to know I have suffered for it ever since.’
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