The Italian Next Door. Anna Cleary
Читать онлайн книгу.her hand continued to tingle as she trundled her baggage beside him to where the family waited by the escalator.
He said, ‘So long as you understand that I will be doing the driving.’ His eyes gleamed, but there was a definiteness in his tone that brooked no argument.
‘What a surprise.’ She rolled her eyes, while inside her giddy pulse was rushing like storm water.
CHAPTER TWO
VALENTINO SILVESTRI drove fast, switching from lane to lane and cutting a path into tiny impossible crevices amongst the traffic with blithe disregard for the nerves of his passengers. Pia clung to her seat belt, enduring the aunt’s penetrating voice and trying not to dwell on the possibilities of dying young.
The aunt had directed the seating arrangement, guarding her menfolk by steering her husband into the front passenger seat and planting her solid self in the back between Pia and the sulky boy. Pia envied the boy his earphones, but resisted retreating to her own for fear of causing offence.
During a rare lull in the conversation Valentino’s deep dark eyes sought Pia’s briefly in the rear vision mirror and he said in his ravishingly accented voice, ‘So, Pia, why have you abandoned Australia for Italy?’
‘I’m here to house-sit for my cousin.’ Pia had to raise her voice a little to be heard. ‘Lauren’s a photographer. She’s gone to Nepal with a film crew to shoot a snow leopard. Maybe you know her. Lauren Renfern?’
Valentino shook his head. ‘Is she a recent arrival? I haven’t been in Positano for some time.’
‘She’s lived there just over a year.’
‘There are so many newcomers now we don’t know our own town,’ the aunt chimed in. ‘But you will be very happy. Of course, you will go to Pompeii. Herculaneum is another very fine site. And you must join the climb to Vesuvius, shouldn’t she, amore? Vesuvius is a marvellous experience.’
‘And Capri,’ her husband added, turning to encourage Pia. ‘All the turisti go to Capri. You will love it.’
‘Shh,’ the aunt hissed, poking her husband and nodding towards Valentino with a frown. In a murmur she added, ‘Have you no respect?’
Pia glanced at Valentino in surprise. Why shouldn’t Capri be mentioned, or was it the fact of her being a tourist that was the trouble? She saw his sensuous mouth tighten a little in the mirror, but that was the only sign he gave of having heard the aunt’s murmur. A moment later Pia’s gaze accidentally collided with his, and his dark eyes were so compelling, so sensual she forgot everything except the sudden mad rushing in her veins.
That was why it was such a shock when, just as the first glimpses of the Bay of Napoli hoved into view, the aunt received a call on her cell phone and startled everyone with the announcement that her beloved Maria had started in labour. It was an emergency, the agitated woman declared. She was sorry, but there was no help for it. The journey must be halted and they must speed to her daughter’s side at once.
There was no option but to alter the itinerary, so at the first available exit they diverted from the autostrada and drove into Napoli, where Valentino deposited the family with all their baggage in the entrance to Maria’s apartment building.
With their departure a blissful silence descended over the car. While Valentino said his farewells, Pia stayed in her seat, staring out at the busy, ancient, narrow street, craning up at the tall buildings, a sudden tension in her nerves. An anticipation.
What now? Now she would be alone with him?
She saw his tall frame turn to stroll back and a shiver thrilled down her spine.
Valentino paused with his hand on the door handle. A curious sensation charged his blood. His passenger hadn’t moved from her corner. Was she so wary of him?
With measured calm he got in, reached for the ignition, then turned to examine her.
Her blue eyes met his frankly, a little defiantly. He felt his blood quicken. He had no wish to make her feel vulnerable, but she was so pretty. He’d hardly be human not to feel excited by the situation.
Pia sensed the air tauten. Suddenly she felt as if she were hanging over the edge of a cliff.
He lifted his brows. ‘So … are you staying over there?’ His eyes were coolly amused, questioning, then he pointed at the seat next to his.
On a surge of adrenaline, Pia overruled the sudden tension in her limbs. She reasoned that men were probably like horses and dogs. The last thing a woman should do was to give out some crazy vibe of being nervous. As soon as she acknowledged the threat, the threat would become real.
What was there to be nervous about, anyway? Just because he’d looked at her once or twice as if she were a strawberry tartlet didn’t mean he was planning to speed her to the nearest lonely bush track to have his ruthless way with her. He’d hardly engineered the current situation. It was fate who had gone to such great trouble to arrange it, bringing on babies and all.
So long as fate didn’t get carried away. So long as he didn’t.
As she slid into the seat next to his and he reached across to assist her in finding the seat buckle her heightened senses caught the faintest tang of clean, spicy masculinity. She secured the seat belt, taking care not to brush his fingers. Smoothly, casually.
‘Bene.’
Valentino’s eyes were drawn to a tiny flickering pulse disturbing the smooth skin of her temple. His fingers twitched with a sudden urge to reach out and stroke her, but he restrained the impulse.
He realised it was only natural she should feel some concern. What woman wouldn’t? He was a man, after all. Practically a wild animal. There would be no use in telling her he was the safest guy on the planet and upholder of the laws of one hundred and eighty-eight nations.
He considered various things he might say to reassure her, and discarded them all as being likely to be counterproductive.
Accelerating into the traffic stream, he worked at keeping the conversation at an easy flow. ‘Sorry about the change in plans. Bambini make their own rules, apparently.’ He indicated the dash clock. ‘Not much more than an hour to go now. Just enough time for us to introduce ourselves properly.’
Pia read reassurance in the smile he flashed her. He was making an effort, she realised. Either to ensure she felt comfortable, or to lull her into a false sense of security.
‘So tell me,’ he said in his velvet voice, ‘what do you plan to do in Positano?’
Stay calm and pleasant, Pia thought, eyeing his handsome jaw with its hint of shadow, his hands, casual on the wheel. No matter how smooth and polished, remember he’s one of the wolvish tribe. Keep him on an even keel. Don’t antagonise him.
Her hands clasped themselves in her lap. ‘See the sights. Soak up the beauty.’
‘Ah. You are on vacation?’
She nodded. ‘And you, Valentino—do you live in Positano or are you just visiting?’
Valentino hesitated. Too much information would inevitably lead to him divulging his job to her. As soon as he did that she’d make all sorts of false assumptions about him and close up. It had happened too many times before with potential playmates. Mention Interpol and they vanished over the horizon like smoke. Tracking and pursuing high-class criminals was a grim business, more painstaking than romantic, but it was time his organisation received a sexier press.
He lifted his hands in acknowledgement of her question. ‘My family home is there but I work—elsewhere.’
‘Oh?’
‘Sì.’ He engineered a quick diversion. ‘I think you will enjoy Positano. It’s very small, but you shouldn’t have any trouble finding entertainment. Are you adventurous, Pia?’
Pia