down at Mannion the weekend after next to talk wedding plans and you’re going to be there. And I won’t take no for an answer.’
‘I wouldn’t dream of it,’ Dana said with perfect truth, her mind reeling.
‘It will be just like old times,’ Nicola went on. ‘Jo and Emily are going to be there, as they’re my bridesmaids, and they’re bringing their blokes.’ She paused. ‘So, if you’ve got someone in your life, invite him along.’
Dana took another mouthful of Prosecco. ‘There’s no one serious. Not at the moment.’
But that would all change—down at Mannion.
Nicola sighed. ‘You sound like Adam. As soon as I get to like one of his girlfriends, he’s on to the next.’ She pulled a face. ‘And Zac, the serial monogamist, sets him a bad example.’
‘I can imagine.’ Dana’s mouth felt suddenly stiff. ‘Maybe Adam just hasn’t met the right woman yet.’ Or not at the right time.
Afterwards, she’d been assailed by doubts, telling herself that it couldn’t possibly be that simple, half expecting a call from Nicola telling her that the weekend had been cancelled or making some other excuse.
Instead she’d had a call from Eddie offering the full asking price on the flat, and when Nicola phoned a few days later, it was to confirm the invitation and say how much everyone was looking forward to seeing her again.
Including Adam? wondered Dana, but did not dare ask.
Although she would soon find out, she thought now, glancing at her watch. It was time to stop skulking in the grounds and begin her campaign.
She was halfway across the lawn when she realised she was being watched. That a man was standing, silent and unmoving, at the head of the terrace steps.
For one jubilant instant, she thought, Adam...
Then her footsteps faltered as she realised her observer was much too tall to be Adam. And much too dark.
Dark as midnight. Dark as a bad dream.
Only she wasn’t dreaming. Not this time. She was looking at Zac Belisandro—not on the other side of the world but, by some ill chance, right here.
Waiting for her.
NO!
The word was in her throat like a silent scream. Because it couldn’t be true. Yet the wild, unruly thud of her terrified heart told her there was no room for doubt.
She couldn’t run. There was nowhere to go and, anyway, she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of putting her to flight.
But he wouldn’t be able to get rid of her this time. Serafina was no longer around to sit in judgement on a young girl who’d offended her code of conduct.
This time, she was Nicola’s guest. One of the gang. And Nicola would laugh to scorn any attempt to discredit her.
‘Come off it, Zac.’ Dana could hear her now. ‘She can’t be the first girl who’s come on to you and the others have all been old enough to know better. Besides, it was a long time ago.’
A long time ago, she repeated silently. So why did it feel as if it were only yesterday?
And what if he replied, ‘But it wasn’t me she wanted. Not then. Not now. It’s Adam—and this house.’
He could blow her plans clean out of the water with one sneering remark. Could—and probably would.
Her legs were shaking, but she dragged every rag of calm she possessed around her, to get her safely up the steps.
But not past him...
He was standing, hands on hips, his face a mask, his eyes raking her from head to foot, as he said softly, ‘So you have come back. I thought you would have more sense.’
Dana met his gaze, hard as obsidian. ‘I accepted an invitation from an old friend, nothing more.’ She lifted her chin. ‘And how are things with you, Mr Belisandro? Still devouring the world?’
‘In small bites, Miss Grantham.’ His voice was a drawl, his tone tinged with ice. ‘And never more than I can comfortably chew. A policy I recommend to you, signorina.’
The close-fitting charcoal pants he wore had the sheen of silk, while the matching shirt was negligently unbuttoned revealing more of the muscular bronze of his chest than she’d any wish to see.
It made her feel uneasy—almost restless, and she shrugged, fighting to regain some equilibrium. ‘That depends, I suppose, on the size of one’s appetite.’
‘And yours, if memory serves, borders on the voracious. If you wish to discuss mine, I suggest we choose somewhere more private. The summer house, perhaps.’
He watched the swift flare of colour in her face and nodded, smiling a little. ‘So this new sophistication is only skin-deep after all. But how fascinating. And what temptation.’
‘I’d say—what arrogance, Mr Belisandro.’ Her hands curled into fists at her sides. ‘You clearly haven’t changed at all.’
It wasn’t true. He’d matured, wearing his thirty-two years with toned grace. He’d always been attractive. Even she had to admit that. But now he was—spectacular. And, as such, formidable.
‘I have never found a reason to do so,’ he said. ‘Although I may have become a little more compassionate than I was seven years ago, so let me offer you some advice.’
He took a step towards her and it needed every scrap of self-command she possessed not to back away.
He went on quietly, ‘Recall some pressing engagement and return to London. Meet Nicola for lunch occasionally, if both of you so wish. But hope for nothing more. That way you may remain unscathed.’
He paused. ‘Continue on your present path, and you will regret it.’
Her throat tightened but she managed a little laugh. ‘How very melodramatic. Is this how you threaten your business competitors?’
‘I rarely find it necessary. They listen to reason. I suggest you do the same.’
‘Thank you.’ Dana drew a deep breath. ‘Please believe that if ever I need your advice, I’ll ask for it. In the meantime, I plan to enjoy a pleasant weekend in these beautiful—and desirable—urroundings. I hope you do the same.’
‘If you’re looking for Adam,’ he said as she turned towards the French windows. ‘He has not yet arrived. He is driving down with his latest girl, Robina Simmons, whose lack of punctuality is legendary, so they have probably quarrelled.’ He smiled. ‘Let us hope the disagreement will not last.’
‘Unlike ours,’ Dana threw over her shoulder. ‘Which I’m sure will run and run.’
Not much of a last word, she thought
