here in Sicily. And right now, even though he had vowed never to live here again, he couldn’t deny that being back in Palermo felt good, felt like coming home.
A flash of auburn-coloured hair across the road caught his eye and suddenly there was Harper, striding along in the sunshine, her shoulder bag bouncing against her side. She seemed completely oblivious to the admiring glances of the men around her but Vieri wasn’t. He found his grip tightening on the handle of his cup.
In truth, seeing her here wasn’t entirely coincidental. At breakfast that morning she had told him she was going to visit the antiquities museum, which happened to be just around the corner. He had offered her a lift into town with him, which of course she had declined. It seemed she preferred to walk.
Now he watched as she bent down to stroke the head of a mangy-looking dog belonging to a beggar sheltering in a doorway. Vieri closed his newspaper, observing them intently. He saw Harper take her purse from her bag, pull out some notes, then turn the purse to shake out the coins before offering the whole lot to the man, who was getting to his feet, his hands cupped before him eagerly. Vieri stood up, his protective instinct on high alert. The beggar was pulling Harper towards him, either in some sort of embrace, or he was about to go through her pockets—or worse. Whichever, it was enough to see Vieri leap through two lanes of traffic with horns blaring, to land by her side.
‘That’s enough.’ Speaking in Sicilian he pulled the man away by his shoulder, the beggar looking at him with a mixture of annoyance and surprise. ‘Get your hands off her.’
‘Vieri!’ Harper rounded on him in outrage. ‘What do you think you’re doing?’
‘I could ask the same of you.’ Moving his hand to the small of her back, he propelled her forward along the pavement, tucking her arm through his to secure her to his side. ‘I just saw you giving him the entire contents of your purse.’
‘So what if I did.’ She tripped angrily along beside him. ‘It wasn’t your money, if that’s what you’re worried about.’
‘I don’t give a damn about the money.’ He navigated them between the pedestrians. ‘But I do worry about you getting yourself into dangerous situations.’
‘Well, don’t. I can take care of myself. And besides, there was nothing dangerous about that. The poor man was hungry, that’s all, and so was the dog.’
‘That’s as may be. But that doesn’t mean he’s not a violent criminal.’
‘Oh, for God’s sake!’ Jerking to a halt, Harper pulled her arm from under his and held it across her chest. ‘I don’t know how you live like that, thinking the worst of everyone. I feel sorry for you, I really do.’
‘Save your pity for the beggars, cara.’ He met her heated stare full on. ‘And besides, I don’t think the worst of everyone. When it came to your sister it seems I didn’t think badly enough.’
He watched, not without some satisfaction, as the famous pout put in another appearance. She really had the most luscious lips, pink and full and perfectly formed. It was all he could do to stop himself from raising his fingers to touch them or, better still, bending his head to feel them against his own. The fact was, he hadn’t been the same since that kiss they had shared. Even though a couple of days had passed, the memory of it still burned in his head—in his groin.
At the time he had pretended he was doing it to test Harper, to see how she would react. With arousal already stirring in his body he had wanted confirmation that she was feeling it too—at least that was what he’d told himself. But the fact was, the sight of those swollen lips had been impossible to resist, especially when coupled with her heavy-lidded eyes and that sensuous take-me-to-bed body.
That, at least, he had managed to force himself to resist. So far anyway. Harper’s bedroom was at the opposite end of the hotel apartment from his and he had expressly forbidden himself from going anywhere near it. Just the thought of the delights that lay in wait for him on the other side of that door was enough to see him heading for the shower and swinging the dial round to cold.
If anyone had told him that he would be obsessing over this relatively ordinary young Scottish woman he would have told them they were mad. She was not his type, she wasn’t glamorous or sophisticated or worldly. But she was warm and clever and kind. Despite the telling-off he had given her, the compassion she had shown that beggar, the way she had let him pull her into his arms, even though he must have smelled decidedly rank, had touched Vieri. It was typical of her, always thinking of others. Couple that with a natural prettiness and an innate sexiness and you had a special kind of person. Had he just called her ordinary? Who was he trying to kid?
But she was also as stubborn as a mule. Linking his arm through hers once more, he started them walking again. His car was parked only a few streets away. He wasn’t even going to tell her that he’d just decided he was taking her out for lunch. She’d only start kicking up a fuss.
‘So.’ He turned them down a side street. ‘Did you enjoy the antiquities museum?’
‘Yes, I did.’ He felt her relief at the change of subject. ‘There are some amazing works of art in there. It’s hard to believe that some of them date back thousands of years.’
‘Sicily has a very rich history.’
‘But some things never change.’ Following her gaze, he saw she had spotted another beggar on the other side of the street. He groaned inwardly, preparing himself for another lecture. And sure enough it soon came. ‘Doesn’t it bother you?’ She shot him an upward glance. ‘Living a life of such wealth and privilege, when there is still so much poverty all around?’
Vieri drew in an exasperated breath. ‘For your information, I have earned the life that I lead through hard work and determination.’ He had no idea why he felt the need to defend himself, why he should give a toss what this opinionated young woman thought of him. He only knew that he did. ‘And quite apart from that, me living like a pauper is not going to help these guys.’ He gestured across the road. ‘But by continuing to invest in this country I am providing employment and security for families who in turn pay taxes that go towards helping those less fortunate. Plus I am actively involved with a number of charities. Throwing down a handful of coins is not the long-term solution.’
‘Well, no, I suppose not,’ she conceded quietly. ‘But sometimes a short-term solution is better than nothing.’ Their eyes clashed before Harper dragged her gaze away. ‘Oh...’ She looked around her, suddenly realising they had stopped. ‘Is this your car?’
‘It is.’ Opening the door, Vieri gestured to her to get inside. ‘If you would like to get in, I know a nice restaurant not far along the coast. I thought I could buy you lunch before we go and see Alfonso this afternoon. That is, if your socialist principles will allow it, of course.’
Harper hesitated, biting down on her lip. Unless Vieri was very much mistaken she was trying to hide the hint of a smile. Finally she slipped into the passenger seat and turned to face him as he got in beside her, tucking her hair behind her ears. And there it was, the distinct and heart-warming twinkle of mirth dancing in those autumn-coloured eyes.
‘Lunch would be lovely.’ She even reached out to touch his arm, albeit very briefly. ‘Thank you.’
* * *
Through the arched windows of the overheated sitting room, Vieri watched Harper and his godfather in the garden. Bundled up in a thick coat and with a rug across his knees, Alfonso was seated in his wheelchair,
