she muttered ungraciously, and pretended she didn’t see the mocking smile that crossed his face. Striding to the car, she jerked open the passenger-side door before he could do so, curling her long legs beneath the dashboard and wishing she’d been wearing anything else but shorts.
He joined her moments later, the gear console providing a welcome barrier between them. But Grace was still uneasily mindful of his nearness and the not unpleasant scent of his clean male sweat. It was infuriating, she thought as he flicked the ignition and the engine came to life again. It wasn’t as if she was lacking in experience where men were concerned, yet his sensuality and casual sophistication left her feeling strangely immature.
‘I trust you’re using a sun-block on these outings,’ he remarked as he put the car into gear, and Grace immediately spread her tote bag to cover as much of her burning knees as possible.
‘Of course,’ she said, although in truth she hadn’t put any of the cream on her legs. ‘I’m not stupid.’
‘But you think I am?’
Grace looked quickly at him and away. ‘I didn’t say that.’
‘You didn’t have to.’ He shrugged. ‘But I have to wonder what Julia has said to you about me for you to have such an unfavourable opinion of me.’
Grace’s breath caught in her throat. ‘Julia hasn’t given me an unfavourable opinion of you.’ She swallowed. ‘You must know she thinks you’re—’ She found it difficult to find a suitable word. ‘Marvellous!’
‘Really?’
‘Yes, really.’ She looked at him again, convinced now that he was simply baiting her. ‘What is it with you, signore? I can’t believe you’re so desperate for compliments that you need to hear them from me.’
His short laugh lacked humour. ‘As I said before, you don’t believe in pulling your punches, do you, cara?’ He slowed to accommodate an elderly couple who were crossing the street in front of them and received a wave of acknowledgement in return. ‘And if it’s not something Julia has said, then I can only assume that you have taken an instant, and inexplicable, dislike to me. Am I right?’
Was he right?
Grace looked down at her bag, smoothing her long fingers over the folds of canvas, trying desperately to find an answer. She could hardly tell him why she’d taken such an aversion to him. Not without betraying Julia’s confidence, at any rate, and she couldn’t do that, however tempted she might be to explode his myth of superiority.
‘I don’t know you, signore,’ she said at last, and earned a slightly disbelieving glance from those deep-set dark eyes. ‘I don’t,’ she insisted, feeling some relief at having found a reasonable explanation. ‘And I’m not used to being familiar with men I only know by reputation.’
‘By reputation?’ He groaned. ‘Heaven protect me from women who judge me by my reputation!’
He was laughing at her now, and Grace was overwhelmingly relieved to see the gates of the Villa Modena up ahead. She realised she had no idea how to deal with him, and she was seriously worried that he was having far more of an effect on her than she would have ever dreamed possible. Indeed, she was afraid that half the antagonism she felt towards him stemmed from her own unwilling attraction towards him, and it was obviously wiser for her to ensure that she was never in this position again.
‘Anyway,’ he said now, his voice deepening to a softness that stroked her tortured nerves, ‘we can easily remedy that.’
Remedy what?
For a moment, Grace’s mind was blank, but then comprehension dawned. ‘I think you’re making fun of me,’ she said, avoiding a direct answer. ‘Oh—’ As if she was surprised! ‘Here we are.’
‘Just a minute.’ His hand closed round her arm, and although it was the last thing she wanted to do she was forced to turn and look at him.
‘I beg your pardon?’
‘Grace...’ The way he said her name caused the hairs on the back of her neck to prickle in sympathetic response. ‘Look, I’m not making fun of you.’ He paused. ‘It’s obvious we’ve got off on the wrong track—’
‘Foot.’
‘What?’
‘It’s foot,’ said Grace awkwardly, wishing she’d never interfered. ‘People get off on the wrong foot,’ she added, her face burning. She shook her head at his expression. ‘It’s not important.’
‘If you say so.’ His thumb rubbed distractingly against her sensitive flesh. ‘Whatever—you’ve obviously got the wrong impression of my intentions.’ His eyes darkened with disturbing warmth. ‘I’d like us to be friends, no?’
No!
For a moment, Grace thought she’d said the word out loud, but his face hadn’t changed so she knew she hadn’t done anything so foolish.
‘Um—well, of course,’ she began, wondering how she could bring Julia into this without giving him the impression that her friend had warned her off. ‘Perhaps when we all get to know one another better—’
‘I know Julia very well,’ he said flatly. ‘And that’s not what I mean and you know it. I’d like to think you and I could spend some time together without you treating me like last week’s bad news, hmm?’ He looked down at where his fingers were caressing her arm and grimaced. ‘You’ve obviously got a poor opinion of my sex, yes? Well, I’d like to try and change that.’
Grace gulped. ‘You know nothing about me.’
‘Okay.’ But she sensed he was only humouring her. Dear God, she wondered, what had Julia been telling him about her? She’d never thought of that. ‘Bene, I suggest we get to know one another, as you say. You can’t have a problem with that.’
Couldn’t she?
Grace just wanted this conversation to be over, not just for her sake, but for Julia’s as well. She wasn’t sure what he meant, what he wanted, but as far as she was concerned he was off limits in a big, big way.
‘Look, I’ve got to go,’ she said, praying her friend wasn’t up in the apartment at this moment gazing down on this scene which would look decidedly suspicious from a distance. ‘Thank you for the lift.’ She swallowed. ‘I was tired. It’s been a long day.’
‘I would have taken you to Viareggio,’ he said softly, and although he hadn’t moved Grace could feel his eyes on her mouth like a palpable caress. ‘Tell me, have you found the time to visit the monastery of our local martyr, Sant’ Emilio di Falco?’
He must know she hadn’t, thought Grace crossly. She’d only been here a few days, after all. ‘Oh, I’ve got lots of sightseeing to do yet,’ she told him, trying to sound crisply positive. ‘And now I really must—’
‘Let me take you tomorrow,’ he broke in, as she’d half expected he would. ‘Or the day after. It’s not the easiest place to get to, but I can assure you it’s well worth the visit.’
‘I’m sure it is, but I don’t know what Julia’s got planned for the rest of the
