inside out.
‘I know you’re busy, but I have a teensy proposition for you,’ she whispered.
His body surged at that. ‘Would that be anything like the first time you propositioned me?’
She flushed deeply at that, and he couldn’t help smiling at the outrage on her face when she protested, ‘I didn’t proposition you.’
‘No, Princess? I seem to remember you asking me to mentor you, and offering to pay me in kind.’
She narrowed her eyes at him. ‘You misinterpreted me.’
But her eyes were sparkling, and he warmed to his theme. ‘And then you took your top off.’
‘Because you told me to.’
‘And Carenza Tonielli really takes orders from other people,’ he drawled. ‘Not. You did it because you wanted to.’
‘And who was it who asked me to go home with him and do him?’ she pointed out, laughing. ‘That was a hell of a lot more of a proposition.’
He shifted. ‘Mmm. Great idea. Shall I lock the door?’
‘No. I mean a different proposition.’ She took a deep breath. ‘Yesterday didn’t go quite as planned. So I’d like to try again.’
His spirits plummeted. ‘Dancing?’ he asked warily.
‘No. So can I borrow you for, say … two hours?’ She smiled at him. ‘And if I can help you catch up on the time you’re losing, just say what you need me to do. I won’t mind if you boss me about.’
His heart melted. She wouldn’t have a clue about the franchise stuff. Well, he amended, she’d learned a lot, but not enough to be of any real help. But her willingness disarmed him. ‘Two hours.’
‘Just while it’s sunny.’
He was going to have to work really late tonight to catch up. He should say no. But his mouth had other ideas. ‘I’m all yours, Princess.’
‘Good.’
She took him to the Villa Comunale, the main public park in Naples overlooking the sea. And Dante was surprised to discover just how much he enjoyed strolling hand in hand with her in the lush greenery, looking at the fountains and the statues. Something he’d never let himself have the time to do before.
When they came to the roller-skating park, Carenza removed her sunglasses again and looked straight at him. ‘Dare you.’
‘I’ve never been skating.’
She grinned. ‘Then I’ll teach you.’
‘If I fall over, I’m going to want to be kissed better,’ he warned with an answering grin.
‘Deal.’ She kissed him lightly, then hired skates for them both.
‘You’ve done this before,’ he said as she pirouetted before him on her skates.
She nodded. ‘My grandparents used to take me here when I was small. I guess it’s like riding a bike or swimming—once you can do it, you don’t forget.’
He fell over twice; she didn’t laugh, just held her hand out to him to help him to his feet again and smiled encouragement at him. But by the end of their session he was skating with her, as carefree as she was and enjoying every second of it.
Two hours turned into four. Because it would’ve been rude not to take her out to lunch, afterwards, at one of the little caffès overlooking the sea. But when they finally got back to his office, he held her close. ‘Thank you.’
‘What for?’
‘Mentoring me.’ He gave her a lopsided smile. ‘In having fun. Because I did.’
‘My pleasure.’
He could see in her eyes that it wasn’t just a pleasantry; she absolutely glowed with the knowledge that she’d given him something special.
‘I’d, um, better let you get on,’ she said.
‘Yeah.’ Funny how work didn’t seem quite as important as it usually did. Which should worry him. He couldn’t afford to lose his focus. ‘I’ll call you later. And I’ll see you on Wednesday for mentoring.’ If he could stay away from her for that long.
He managed it. Just. Though there were several texts between them, and a phone conversation that really heated Dante’s blood.
But on Wednesday, when he arrived at Carenza’s office, he saw that her eyes were red and her face was blotchy from crying.
It was the one thing he really couldn’t bear, seeing a woman cry. Not the fake tears of a woman who wanted to get her own way—he knew that Carenza was more likely to ask outright than to cry pretty little tears designed to make someone change their mind—but real pain and despair. He’d seen too much of it in his life, and it never got any easier. He still couldn’t deal with it.
He wrapped his arms round her and held her close. ‘What’s happened?’
‘I’m sorry. I should’ve cancelled. I can’t think straight enough for business, tonight.’
‘Doesn’t matter. What’s wrong, Caz?’
She was shivering. ‘My grandparents.’
He remembered what she’d told him about her grandfather’s heart problems. ‘Gino’s ill?’
She shook her head. ‘My English grandparents.’
‘They’re ill?’
‘No. They sent me some files.’ She was clearly trying to hold back the tears, but a sob escaped. ‘They’d been clearing the attic and found some cine films everyone had forgotten about.’
‘Of your parents?’
She nodded. ‘They were taken when I was two and my parents took me to Cornwall. My grandparents had it transferred to digital media and they emailed it over today.’ She stepped back out of his arms and gestured to the computer screen. ‘I put a copy on a DVD for Nonno and Nonna. But I watched it first, and it just—it just …’ Her words were choked off on a sob. ‘How much I’ve lost.’ Her voice was a hoarse whisper. ‘I mean, I love Nonna and Nonno. They’ve done so much for me, and I couldn’t have asked for anyone better to bring me up. But it’s not the same as having my mum and dad.’
‘How old were your parents when they died?’ he asked gently.
‘Mummy was twenty-six and Papa was twenty-eight—the same age I am now. That’s so young to die. And all because of a stupid man who drove too fast on a motorway and … and … and it’s all so senseless. So pointless.’
She was really, really hurting. And he couldn’t walk away. He wrapped his arms round her again and let her cry, holding her tightly until her sobs had died away.
‘You’ve
