and she wished she’d never agreed to come here in the first place.
An image of Castelli flashed before her eyes, but she refused to acknowledge it. She had no intention of allowing her interview with the Italian to influence her mood. Besides which, he was just someone else who regarded her as unworthy of his respect.
She scowled. This was not the way Ashley had sold this trip to her. Her sister had asked her to babysit the gallery, true, but she’d also sweetened the request with promises of long sunny days and evenings spent exploring the bars and ristorantes of the popular resort. Not that Tess cared much for bars, but the idea of eating in real Italian restaurants had been appealing. And, like anyone else who held down a job, she’d looked forward to spending some time on the beach.
Now it was all spoilt. After spending the first couple of evenings tidying Ashley’s apartment and making sense of her bookkeeping, she was confronted by this situation. It was typical of Ashley, she thought flatly. Typical of her sister to trample over everyone’s feelings if it made her happy. And there was no doubt that Ashley had known how Tess would have reacted if she’d told her what she’d intended. That was why she’d made sure she’d been long gone before Tess had arrived.
It was so frustrating; so disappointing. She should have guessed there was more to it than Ashley had told her. She should have rung Andrea before she’d left England. It was her own fault for not expressing any interest in her stepmother’s health. But for now she was helpless. Until Ashley chose to contact her, there was nothing she could do.
She had planned on treating herself to an evening meal at the local pizzeria before returning to the apartment, but she changed her mind. After spending an uneasy day jumping every time someone came into the gallery, she was in no mood for company. She would buy herself some salad greens, she thought, toss them in a lemon vinaigrette, and grate some parmesan for flavour.
She was about to lock up when a man appeared in the doorway. He had his back to the light and for a ridiculous moment she thought Castelli had come back. Her heart skipped a beat and hot colour surged into her throat. But then the man moved and she realised her mistake.
It was Silvio Palmieri, she saw at once, the young man who ran the sports shop next door. Though perhaps calling the establishment he managed a sports shop was understating the obvious, Tess mused. With its windows full of endorsements from famous sports personalities and the exclusive designer gear it sold, it was definitely not just a sports shop.
Still, she acknowledged she had been foolish to mistake the younger man for Castelli. Silvio was dark, it was true, but that was where the resemblance ended. He didn’t move with the instinctive grace of a predator or regard her with tawny-eyed suspicion. Silvio was just a rather pleasant man who had taken it upon himself to look out for her.
‘Ciao,’ he said. Then he noticed her expression. ‘Mi scusi, I startle you, no?’
‘Oh—I was miles away,’ murmured Tess, gathering her composure. ‘You surprised me, that’s all’
Silvio frowned. ‘You have not had bad news?’ he asked, with surprising perception. ‘Ashley’s mama—she has not had a relapse, spero?’
‘Not as far as I know,’ said Tess drily, not at all sure how Andrea must be feeling at this moment. ‘Um—have you had a good day?’
Silvio shrugged. ‘What do you say? So-so? Si, it has been a so-so day. How about you?’
Tess felt an almost irresistible urge to laugh, but she doubted Silvio would appreciate her hysterics. She couldn’t involve him in her problems. Ashley wouldn’t like it and Castelli definitely wouldn’t approve.
‘It’s been—interesting,’ she said, moving to drop the blinds on the windows. ‘But I’m not sorry it’s over.’ And that was the truth.
‘I saw Raphael di Castelli come into the gallery earlier,’ Silvio ventured, his brows raised in inquiry, and Tess wondered if she was being absurdly suspicious in thinking that that was the real reason he had come. ‘He is quite a well-known person in San Michele. In the season, many people work at the villa. Picking the grapes, capisce?’
Tess stared at him. ‘You know him?’ she asked, absorbing the fact that his name was Raphael di Castelli. She moistened her lips. ‘Does he have a large vineyard, then?’
‘I think so.’ Silvio was regarding her curiously now. ‘And, no, I do not know him. Well, not personally, you understand?’
Tess hesitated. Ashley’s interest in Marco was beginning to make sense. ‘And Ashley?’ she asked, trying to sound casual. ‘I believe she knows his son?’
‘Ah, Marco.’ Silvio nodded. ‘Si. Marco is—how do you say?—the artist, no?’
‘Marco’s a painter?’
‘He would like to be.’ Silvio spread a hand towards the paintings lining the walls of the gallery. ‘He would like the exhibition, I think.’
Tess caught her breath. Castelli hadn’t mentioned that his son wanted to be a painter. But perhaps it explained how Ashley had come to know Marco, however.
Now she looked around. ‘Are any of these his paintings?’ she asked cautiously and Silvio laughed.
‘A mala pena.’ Hardly. ‘But he is ambitious, no?’
‘I see.’ Tess nodded. ‘Does his father approve?’
‘I think not,’ said Silvio, sobering. ‘Di Castellis do not waste their time with such pursuits. Besides, Marco is still at school’
‘Ah.’ Tess thought that explained a lot. ‘Well, thank you for your insight. It was certainly—um—interesting.’
‘And Marco’s father?’ prompted Silvio. ‘You didn’t say what he wanted.’
‘Oh.’ Tess had no intention of discussing the reasons for Castelli’s visit with him. ‘He—er—he was looking for Ashley.’ She crossed her fingers. ‘He didn’t say why.’
‘Mmm.’
Silvio didn’t sound convinced, but Tess decided she had said enough. ‘Now, I’ve got to go,’ she said. ‘I want to go to the supermarket before I go home.’
‘Or you could have dinner with me,’ Silvio suggested at once. ‘There is a favourite trattoria of mine just a short way from here.’
‘Oh, I don’t think—’
‘You are not going to turn me down?’
Silvio pulled a petulant face, but Tess had had enough. ‘I am sure there are plenty of women only too eager to dine with you, Silvio,’ she said firmly. ‘I’m sorry, but it’s been a long day and I’m tired. I wouldn’t be very good company tonight.’
‘But Ashley, she said you would be glad to go out with me,’ he protested. ‘She tell me you are not—attached, no?’
‘Did she?’ Tess wondered what else Ashley had told these people about her. ‘Well, she was wrong, Silvio. I do have a boyfriend.’ Boyfriends, anyway, she justified herself. There was no need to tell him
