he’d never been able to fall in love. After too many years, he’d finally faced reality. Thanks to his mother, he lacked the capacity to love anybody.
“I need to get back down to the restaurant.” Stephanie’s teacup rattled against the saucer as she set it in place. “There’s more tea if you want it.”
“Thanks, but no. No time like the present to get started on the telephone contacts.”
She reached for his cup and he handed it over.
“You should consider getting a mobile phone.”
“Hmm. Possibly later.” Right now he was conserving funds.
“I have a computer if you need one.” She motioned toward the hall. “Sometimes I work on orders and supplies at night.”
“I’ll probably take you up on that.” He pushed up from the chair and came around the bar to stand beside her at the sink. “Let me help with this.”
Wariness flickered across her pretty face. “I have it.”
“Okay.” He backed off, wondering if his size intimidated her. She wouldn’t be the first, though she reached his shoulders. He propped his backside against the blue granite counter several feet away from her. The tension eased.
With a grace that had him watching her hands, she washed the cups, dried them and placed them, handles aligned to the right, inside the cupboard. The orderliness of her flat was almost amusing. His idea of domestic order was keeping the mosquito net untangled around his face at night.
She tidied up, putting everything away until the kitchen looked as if no one lived there. In fact, the entire flat had that look. As if it were a photograph, a perfect, sophisticated, contemporary ad of an apartment. Not a lived-in place.
Folding a snowy tea-towel into a precise rectangle, she hung it neatly over a holder, straightening the edges while she spoke. “Is there anything else I can show you before I go? Anything you need?”
“I’m not a guest, Stephanie. No need for you to fret over me. I can find my way around.” Hadn’t he fended for himself as long as he could remember?
“Right. Of course.” Her hands fidgeted with the edge of the towel. “I’d better go, then. The evening crowd begins soon.”
“I may go out this afternoon myself. Do you have an extra key to the flat?”
She clasped the butterfly hands in front of her. “I’m sorry. I never thought of having another key made.”
“Give me yours and I’ll go to the locksmith.”
“I’ll get it.” She looked none too excited about the prospect of sharing her key with him, but she disappeared down the hall and was back in moments, key extended. “This also fits the doors leading out onto the balcony. In case you didn’t notice, there are two entrances to the flat. A staircase up the outside as well as the elevator in back of the restaurant.”
“Good to know. Thanks.” He pocketed the key, keeping watch on her fidgety movements. She’d relaxed somewhat since his arrival, but Daniel had the strongest feeling her tension was more than the normal discomfort of acquiring an unfamiliar flatmate. Though good breeding or schooling gave her the right words to say, her real feelings lay hidden behind the serenely composed expression. And yet, her hands gave her away.
With an inner shrug, he dismissed the idea. Stephanie’s problems were her own. He wasn’t interested in getting past the pretty face and tantalizingly long legs. His business here was exactly that—business.
“You’re welcome to come down to the restaurant later and get acquainted if you’d like,” she said, heading for the door. “Some of your family may come round. They often do.”
The comment brought him up short. He still had trouble thinking of the Valentines as family.
“Is Dominic working today?” He’d had little time with his twin since returning to England. Discovering that Dominic had become a part-time employee of the restaurant below added to the appeal of living here. They’d been apart a very long time.
Stephanie glanced at her watch. “He should be in his office about now. I’m sure he’d enjoy a visit.”
And so would Daniel, though he was every bit as eager to begin setting up appointments. The list of contacts in his bag was impressive. With it, his business should be up and running in no time.
His flatmate was halfway out the door when she stopped and turned. “Oh, one more thing, Daniel.”
“Yes?”
Cool aqua eyes assessed him. “If you don’t mind my asking, how long are you planning to be here?”
“Why, Stephanie—” he playfully placed a hand over his heart “—I’m crushed. Already trying to get rid of me?”
“No, no, of course not. I didn’t mean that at all. I was just thinking…”
He knew exactly what she was thinking, but he couldn’t accommodate her. “New businesses take a while to get off the ground. A year. Perhaps longer.” He watched her, hoping to gauge her true reaction, but she gave nothing away. “That won’t be a problem, will it?”
“That will be…fine,” she said.
Daniel didn’t believe a word of it.
Several hours later, Daniel exited the tube in high spirits, returning to Knightsbridge after a successful afternoon. He’d found a locksmith to cut a new flat key and afterwards had spent an hour chatting up a former university mate about business prospects. All in all, a good beginning.
Above ground, the rain had begun in earnest. Though he’d failed to bring an umbrella, the smell of rain in the air and the feel of it on his skin were a pleasure after years in the African sun. He resisted the childish urge to lift his face and catch the drops on his tongue.
At the back door of the Bella Lucia, he shook himself off to spare the floors a puddle. A kitten, no bigger than his hand, meowed up at him in protest.
“Sorry there, little one.” He scooped the ball of fluff into one hand and slid her inside his jacket while he looked about for a dry place. She snuggled close, a warm, damp ball against his shirt, and turned her motor on. Daniel spotted an overhang and withdrew the kitten from his jacket. She meowed again.
“Hungry?” he asked, crouching down to set her beneath the overhang. Her yellow eyes blinked at him. With a final stroke of the small head, he decided to steal a bite for her later, and then went inside the Bella Lucia to find his brother.
To the right of the wide entry were the lift and a door marked “Storage.” On his left were the offices. Taking a guess, he tapped at the first one and went inside. Dominic sat at a desk, intently staring at a computer screen.
Daniel stood for a moment, observing his brother at work. Fraternal twins, they had once shared similarities, but now, beyond the blue eyes and tall stature, they bore little resemblance. Domestication and long hours in a high-pressure accounting firm had taken a toll on Dominic’s once powerful physique.
“Careful there, brother. You’ll
