broke your heart? Was that why you escaped to Italy? Why you’re content to hide away in a big, decaying villa? Makes sense. Only child … lots of expectations there … doting parents. Did you decide to rebel? Find yourself the wrong type of man?’
‘That’s crazy.’ She flushed and looked away from those too-penetrating, fabulous bitter-chocolate eyes.
‘Is it? Why am I getting a different impression here?’
‘I didn’t get involved with the wrong type of guy.’ Caroline scoffed nervously. ‘I’m not attracted to … This is a silly conversation.’
‘Okay, maybe you weren’t escaping an ill-judged, torrid affair with a married man, but what then? Were the chickens and the sheep and the village-hall dances every Friday night all a little too much?’
Caroline looked at him resentfully from under her lashes and then hurriedly looked away. How had he managed to turn this conversation on its head?
‘Well?’ Giancarlo asked softly, intrigued. ‘You can’t make the rules to only suit yourself. Two can play at this little game of going where you don’t belong …’
‘Oh, for goodness’ sake! I
may
have become just a little bored, but so what?’ She fidgeted with the edge of the towel and glared at him, because she felt like a traitor to her parents with that admission, and it was
his
fault. ‘Italy seemed like a brilliant idea,’ she admitted, sliding a sideways look at him, realising that he wasn’t smirking as she might have expected. ‘London was just too expensive. You need to have a well-paid job to go there and actually be able to afford somewhere to rent, and I didn’t want to go to any of the other big cities. When Dad suggested that he get in touch with Alberto, that brushing up on my Italian would be a helpful addition to my CV, I guess I jumped at the chance. And, once I got here, Alberto and I just seemed to click.’
‘So why the guilty look when I asked?’
‘I think Mum and Dad always expected that I’d stay in the country, live the rural idyll just round the corner from them, maybe get married to one of the local lads …’
‘They said so?’
‘No, but …’
‘They would have wanted you to fly the nest.’
‘They wouldn’t. We’re very close.’
‘If they wanted to keep you tied to them, they would never have suggested a move as dramatic as Italy,’ Giancarlotold her drily. ‘Trust me, they aren’t fools. This would have been their gentle way of helping you to find your own space. Shame, though.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I was really beginning to warm to the idea of the unsuitable lover.’
Caroline’s breath caught sharply in her throat because she was registering how close they were to one another, and lying on her side, she felt even more vulnerable to his watchful dark eyes. Conscious of her every movement, she awkwardly sat up and half-wrapped the towel over her legs.
‘I … I’m not attracted to unsuitable men,’ she croaked, because he appeared to be waiting for a reply to his murmured statement, head slightly inclined.
‘Define
unsuitable
…’ He lazily reached over to the cooler bag which he had brought with him, and which she had barely noticed in her panic over the dreaded sailing trip, and pulled out two cold drinks, one of which he handed to her.
Held hostage to a conversation that was running wildly out of control, Caroline could only stare at him in dazed confusion. She pressed the cold can to her heated cheeks.
‘Well?’ Giancarlo tipped his head back to drink and she found that she couldn’t tear her eyes away from him, from the motion of his throat as he swallowed and the play of muscles in his raised arm.
‘I like kind, thoughtful, sensitive men,’ she breathed.
‘Sounds boring.’
‘It’s not boring to like
good guys
, guys who won’t let you down.’
‘In which case, where are these guys who don’t let you down?’
‘I’m not in a relationship at the moment, if that’s whatyou’re asking,’
‘That’s crazy.’ She flushed and looked away from those too-penetrating, fabulous bitter-chocolate eyes.
‘Is it? Why am I getting a different impression here?’
‘I didn’t get involved with the wrong type of guy.’ Caroline scoffed nervously. ‘I’m not attracted to … This is a silly conversation.’
‘Okay, maybe you weren’t escaping an ill-judged, torrid affair with a married man, but what then? Were the chickens and the sheep and the village-hall dances every Friday night all a little too much?’
Caroline looked at him resentfully from under her lashes and then hurriedly looked away. How had he managed to turn this conversation on its head?
‘Well?’ Giancarlo asked softly, intrigued. ‘You can’t make the rules to only suit yourself. Two can play at this little game of going where you don’t belong …’
‘Oh, for goodness’ sake! I
may
have become just a little bored, but so what?’ She fidgeted with the edge of the towel and glared at him, because she felt like a traitor to her parents with that admission, and it was
his
fault. ‘Italy seemed like a brilliant idea,’ she admitted, sliding a sideways look at him, realising that he wasn’t smirking as she might have expected. ‘London was just too expensive. You need to have a well-paid job to go there and actually be able to afford somewhere to rent, and I didn’t want to go to any of the other big cities. When Dad suggested that he get in touch with Alberto, that brushing up on my Italian would be a helpful addition to my CV, I guess I jumped at the chance. And, once I got here, Alberto and I just seemed to click.’
‘So why the guilty look when I asked?’
‘I think Mum and Dad always expected that I’d stay in the country, live the rural idyll just round the corner from them, maybe get married to one of the local lads …’
‘They said so?’
‘No, but …’
‘They would have wanted you to fly the nest.’
‘They wouldn’t. We’re very close.’
‘If they wanted to keep you tied to them, they would never have suggested a move as dramatic as Italy,’ Giancarlotold her drily. ‘Trust me, they aren’t fools. This would have been their gentle way of helping you to find your own space. Shame, though.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I was really beginning to warm to the idea of the unsuitable lover.’
Caroline’s breath caught sharply in her throat because she was registering how close they were to one another, and lying on her side, she felt even more vulnerable to his watchful dark eyes. Conscious of her every movement, she awkwardly sat up and half-wrapped the towel over her legs.
‘I … I’m not attracted to unsuitable men,’ she croaked, because he appeared to be waiting for a reply to his murmured statement, head slightly inclined.
‘Define
unsuitable
…’ He lazily reached over to the cooler bag which he had brought with him, and which she had barely noticed in her panic over the dreaded sailing trip, and pulled out two cold drinks, one of which he handed to her.
Held hostage to a conversation that was running wildly out of control, Caroline could only stare at him in dazed confusion. She pressed the cold can to her heated cheeks.
‘Well?’ Giancarlo tipped his head back to drink and she found that she couldn’t tear her eyes away from him, from the motion of his throat as he swallowed and the play of muscles in his raised arm.
‘I like kind, thoughtful, sensitive men,’ she breathed.
‘Sounds boring.’
‘It’s not boring to like
good guys
, guys who won’t let you down.’
‘In which case, where are these guys who don’t let you down?’
‘I’m not in a relationship at the moment, if that’s whatyou’re asking,’
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