tongue if he ever gets any more pains in his chest.’
‘Nonno, take it easy?’ she scoffed.
‘I didn’t give him a choice,’ Elena said dryly. ‘I told him I’d already lost my son and I wasn’t prepared to lose my husband. So he agreed to slow it down, delegate the business to Emilio until …’
‘Until what?’ Until she was ready to come home and take over?
Elena flapped her hand dismissively. ‘Never mind. He’s fine. Now, stop fussing or your grandfather will want to know what we’re talking about.’
‘And we don’t want to worry him and give him chest pains.’
‘Exactly.’ Elena smiled. ‘Emilio’s been so good to us. He’s done so much, never asked us for a thing.’
And now Carenza had waltzed in from London and been given the business that he’d spent the last five years looking after. No wonder he was hostile towards her: she was taking everything away from him and not giving him any credit for the work he’d put in. She made a mental note to make more of an effort with him.
‘Now, let’s go and join Nonno. And not too much business talk, please.’
‘I’m doing a good job with the gelateria, Nonna. I’m not going to let Nonno down.’
‘I know, tesoro. And it’s good to have you home.’
Carenza spent the rest of the week working hard on the SWOT analysis Dante had asked for—and trying to be pleasant to Emilio Mancuso, though he didn’t make it easy for her. And, even though she kept trying to remind herself of how much her grandparents valued him and how good he’d been to them, she still couldn’t warm to the man. What it was about him, she didn’t know, but there was definitely something. Or maybe she was just taking it out on him because her grandparents had leaned on him five years ago instead of on her, and she resented that.
She sighed. Why did it all have to be so complicated?
At half-past seven precisely on the Saturday, she knocked on the door of Dante’s office.
‘Coffee?’ he asked.
She needed more than coffee. Right now, she thought, she could do with her body weight in chocolate. Probably intravenously. But coffee would have to do. ‘Thank you.’
‘So how’s the SWOT analysis?’ he asked.
‘Getting there.’ Though she’d found it hard to concentrate. Mancuso’s revelation had shocked her and, although her grandmother had reassured her that Nonno was absolutely fine now, Carenza couldn’t get it out of her head. ‘Did you know my grandfather had heart problems, five years ago?’
He raised an eyebrow. ‘No.’
‘I would’ve come home, if I’d known.’
He frowned. ‘Of course you would. That’s obvious.’
She stared at his desk. ‘My grandparents didn’t even tell me he was ill.’
‘They probably had their reasons.’
‘Nonna told me. Because I was in London, I was happy, and they didn’t want to disrupt my life.’ She looked up at him. ‘You’re right about me. I am a princess. A spoiled, selfish bitch.’
‘You’re a princess and, yes, you’ve been spoiled,’ he said softly, ‘but you’re not selfish. Well, not very,’ he amended, ‘considering your background. You’re definitely not a bitch. And you forgot to add the good points.’
‘Which are?’
‘Fishing now, Princess?’
She lifted her chin. ‘No.’
‘No?’
She sighed. ‘All right. It’s been a horrible week, right now I don’t like myself very much, and it’d be nice to have just a little bit of encouragement. People need carrots as well as sticks, you know, and a bit of praise can do wonders for someone’s morale.’
‘I’m glad you’ve worked that out.’ He sat on the edge of the desk, his dark eyes glinting. ‘OK. Your good points. You realised that you couldn’t handle the business on your own and you had the sense to find yourself a mentor instead of wading in and getting into even more of a mess. You’re not afraid of hard work. You’re quick—I don’t have to repeat myself—and you have real potential as a businesswoman because you can think outside the box. And you’re starting to think about the people who work for you as people.’ There was a teasing quirk to the corner of his mouth. ‘And you wear very, very sexy shoes.’
She glowered at him. ‘Which undercuts everything else you just said. Everything comes back to the way I look, the way I dress, and I hate that.’
He stroked her cheek. ‘Don’t be hard on yourself, Caz. That’s my job.’
She gave him a wry smile. ‘Yeah. You’ll always tell me like it is. Sorry. I know you were just teasing me and trying to cheer me up. I’m being a cow.’
‘You’re really out of sorts, tonight.’ ‘And I didn’t want to be, because Saturdays are the best day of the week.’
Because that was when she saw him? Although she didn’t say it, it was written all over her face. And he needed to be fair to her. He couldn’t let her rely on him, not emotionally. He didn’t do emotional stuff. ‘This isn’t a relationship, Princess,’ he warned softly.
‘I know. It’s about business.’
She sounded so disgruntled that he couldn’t help smiling. ‘Are you saying Saturdays aren’t enough for you?’
‘No, I have to resort to—’ She clapped a hand over her mouth, flushing. ‘Forget it.’
When she’d just been on the verge of confessing something interesting? Right now, she had his full attention. ‘Tell me what you were going to say, Princess.’
‘No.’
Her face was so expressive that he could guess exactly what was going through her head. And maybe this would take her mind off her worries. It certainly took his mind off everything else, when he was with her. He moved closer. ‘You have to resort to what?’
‘Nothing.’
He took her hands and pulled her to her feet, before whispering in her ear, ‘Carenza Tonielli, are you trying to tell me that some nights you think of me and you touch yourself?’
If she’d blushed before, that was nothing compared to now. Her face was like a beacon.
Except what had started out as teasing had suddenly turned into something else. Something that made it hard for him to breathe. It felt as if someone had just dumped him on top of Vesuvius.
‘Show me,’ he said.
She looked horrified. ‘I can’t do that in front of you!’
Oh,
