The Italian's Blushing Gardener

Chapter Two

‘DON’T flatter me, or yourself,’ Kira muttered, beginning to fuss with the belt of her jeans. It felt wrong to be exploring such a place in her dusty work clothes; somehow she felt that the villa demanded a sense of occasion. He was standing so close to her that the temptation to study him was next to irresistible. Instead, she concentrated on brushing herself down, removing any stray grass seeds before she crossed the threshold of the grand house.

‘Don’t worry. It’s a villa, not the Vatican!’ He chuckled, again exhibiting a disquieting ability to read her thoughts. ‘You look fine. You’re one of those women who look good in anything.’

Kira glanced up sharply at his unexpected compliment. He laughed as their gazes connected. She couldn’t stop staring at him, and when he caught her eye it sent a confusion of signals through her body.

‘You’re right. I’m only looking around a house, that’s all. It’s nothing more than that,’ Kira murmured, trying to stake her claim to innocence. This Stefano Albani was strangely magnetic. Leaving him to investigate on his own might mean she never saw him again. If she followed him, she would delay the moment of parting and get to view the property of her dreams, too.

‘So if you are ready, signore, shall we make a start?’ she added with a bit more confidence.

He laughed again. ‘Suddenly so businesslike! I’m making the effort to leave the world behind for a while. Why don’t you do the same? I suspect it would do us both good to live a little, for once.’ His gaze was uncomfortably direct and Kira shifted under it. ‘In fact, it occurs to me that I don’t even know your name. So, as we begin, why don’t we start with some simple introductions? You know who I am, but who are you?’

Kira had often wondered that herself. ‘That isn’t important, Signor Albani.’ She shook her shoulders irritably.

‘Of course it is!’

‘No, really. I’m nobody.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous.’ His smile showed signs of fading. ‘Everybody is somebody. Your name is your own. You can give it to me.’

Kira stopped. Ignoring this danger sign, Stefano didn’t.

‘Go on. You know you want to, and it won’t hurt!’ he teased her gently.

His question revived all Kira’s pain. The isolation of Bella Terra meant she didn’t have to introduce herself more than once or twice a year. That suited her. Every time she spoke her name, it reminded her of the shame she had left behind in England.

‘It’s Kira Banks,’ she muttered. Head down, she tried to cross the threshold but Stefano blocked her retreat.

‘You don’t sound very happy about it.’ His air was light, but she saw interrogation in his relentless blue gaze.

Blast him, what was wrong with the man? Kira was used to people backing off, becoming bored when met with her reluctance to talk about herself. In her experience most people preferred to be talking about themselves in any case. It appeared Signor Albani was used to having his questions answered.

‘Why is that?’ Stefano persisted quietly in the face of her continued silence.

Kira wanted to stare him out but her features lost the struggle. They were moving of their own accord. Her lids would not obey. She lowered her lashes, unable to struggle against the depth of his gaze. Making up some excuse for any other person would have been easy enough, but Stefano Albani was looking down at her with a fiction-piercing stare that demanded nothing less than the truth.

She gritted her teeth and muttered, ‘I came here to escape. I wanted to live in a place where no one knows my name.’

He drew back from her a little.

‘Okay, I’ll let it go at that…’ he relented, although his face told a different story. ‘For now…’ he added with a smile.

Kira mastered her features and managed a bland smile.

‘Don’t say I have stumbled on a master criminal, living in her bolthole in Italy?’

He was teasing her again. She managed to lift her eyes to challenge him, but knew she couldn’t afford to rise to his bait. Her pain hovered too close to the surface. She didn’t need him to aggravate her injuries. There were other people only too willing to do that.

‘Why I’m here is nobody’s business but my own.’ She tried not to snap, but it was difficult. Only his steady gaze softened her reaction. ‘In any case, the reasons would take far too long to explain, Signor Albani. Some things are best kept private. Why don’t we stop wasting time, and start looking around this lovely house?’

Purposely keeping her voice casual, she jerked herself out of his grasp. She could not escape his expression so easily. It was like a caress. It took all her determination to break eye contact with him. She managed it by concentrating on the breathtaking photograph on the cover of the property brochure in his hand. It was the only sure way she could distract herself from the delicious dangers of this man. Stefano gestured for her to walk across the entrance hall first. It was large, cool, and it echoed with his slow footsteps as he followed her across the cracked marble tiles.

Kira took a good look around. She had only ever entered the villa by one of the back doors. This was her first time in the grand public areas, and she didn’t want to miss a thing. While she was daydreaming, Stefano strolled past her. Pulling a pearl-handled penknife from his pocket, he pushed the blade against the woodwork of the nearest door. Kira gazed in wonder at the ornate plasterwork, and the beautifully worked banisters on the great double staircase, but he was busy with more practical things. He worked his way methodically around the entrance hall, testing, checking and inspecting.

‘This is the most beautiful house I have ever seen,’ she said wistfully. Stefano was not so easily impressed.

‘My town house in Florence is more practical, and in better condition,’ he observed, before flashing another brilliant smile at her. ‘But you’re right. The setting and space here can’t be beaten.’

Kira nodded. ‘It’s a lovely house. Oh, yes, there are bound to be things about it that must be altered, updated or replaced. It’s old. But I’d like nothing better than the chance to give it some homely touches. Couldn’t you just imagine the scene in December, with a fifteen-foot Christmas tree standing in that bay between the staircases?’

Stefano looked over to where she pointed. He studied the space, tipping his head first one way, and then the other.

‘Yes, the proportions would be exactly right. That’s important with these old houses. Everything must be in scale,’ he said firmly.

Kira’s heart gave a strange flutter. She had been half joking, hardly expecting the big-shot billionaire to consider Christmas trees with such seriousness. That might be a glimmer of hope. Even if he might fill the place with rowdy celebrity friends, he clearly had an eye for the important things in life.

‘A tree like that in a place like this will need to hit exactly the right note. When I host my first Christmas party I want everyone to be speechless with delight—because I’m all for a quiet life.’ He smiled, and gave her a look of undisguised interest. ‘So that’s the festive season sorted out. What do you suggest for my housewarming extravaganza?’

It was a totally unexpected question. Kira looked to see if he was trying to wind her up. He gazed back innocently. Smiling in spite of herself, she decided to answer in the same spirit.

‘Actually, I’m the last person you should ask about entertaining. I’m a garden designer. I prefer to work with plants rather than people.’

‘What is a Christmas tree, if it isn’t a plant?’ He shrugged. ‘And I shall need all sorts of those. When we become neighbours I shall want your advice, sooner or later.’

Kira shot him a look of pure disbelief. ‘You can have exactly what you like, signore. You don’t need anyone to advise you, let alone me!’

‘There are times when everyone can do with a little help,’ he slung straight back at her. ‘By employing skilled people, I can spend my time and effort on all the things I really want to do. In this instance, it gives me plenty of time to plan for Christmas.’ He stopped inspecting the paintwork and turned an acute gaze on her. ‘I know—you must have a good eye for colour. How would you like the task of co-ordinating all the decorations?’

Kira nearly laughed out loud. It felt truly bizarre to be standing in a vast Tuscan villa in the heat of summer, talking about something that was months away.

‘Why on earth would you want someone else to decorate your Christmas tree? It’s something I’ve looked forward to every year for as long as I can remember! It’s the chance to be a child again, I suppose, without all the pressure.’

It was Stefano’s turn to look askance. ‘I know all about pressure.’ His voice darkened with meaning.

Kira groaned under the weight of memory. ‘That’s why it’s so good to get away from it all, to a place like this. I can enjoy Christmas my way. No rehearsing recitals in Gloucester cathedral, dashing between carol services and amateur dramatics, torturing tons of holly, ivy and mistletoe into wreaths and swags. When I was a child, it was never ending.’

He pursed his lips, and then said drily, ‘It’s a wonder you had any time to yourself.’

‘I didn’t. That’s the penalty you pay for being a trophy child, isn’t it?’

‘I wouldn’t know. I missed out on all that. I skipped it, and went straight from sleeping in a box under the table, to earning a living.’

‘Gosh, you must have had a deprived childhood!’ she joked.

He stared at her, unimpressed. His eyes were suddenly chill with all the hidden feelings she recognised from her own reflection. She stopped laughing.

‘Yes. Yes, I did.’ He grazed his lower lip with his teeth for a moment, and then added, ‘But that’s behind me now. The future is all that matters.’

There was iron-hard determination in his voice. His eyes were everywhere. She wondered what havoc he would wreak on this beautiful old house when he took possession of it. The thought worried her. A few moments ago, she had been annoyed by the way he talked as though the villa was already his. Now she was thinking about it in the same way. He was checking every inch of the building like the rightful owner. If ever a man was made to lord it over the Bella Terra valley, it’s Stefano Albani, she thought, with a shiver of apprehension.

‘You’re cold. Why don’t you step outside into the evening sun and warm up?’ he murmured.

His words surprised her. She thought all his attention was riveted on the villa’s sales brochure, and hadn’t expected him to notice.

‘No, I’m fine,’ she said quickly, unwilling to miss this chance to look over the grand villa she gazed at every day from her favourite viewpoint on the other side of the valley.

His eyes glittered with sudden fire. ‘As long as you’re sure.’

Kira began to feel uneasy. Every time he looked at her, he smiled as he spoke. It was an unusual expression, caressing the most secret parts of her. As she tried not to shrink beneath his gaze, she felt the peaks of her nipples push against the smooth profile of her thin shirt. They stiffened still more to know he was looking at her. It was no longer the chill of the cool marble hall affecting her body. He must have realised it, too, but looked away sharply as obvious appreciation flared for a moment in his eyes.

Kira didn’t know what to do. Putting her head down, she scuttled off towards the nearest door.

‘Let’s see what’s through here, shall we?’ she said, bursting into the first room beyond the entrance hall. Within half a step she stopped. It was the reception room that time forgot. Sunlight streamed through tall, graceful windows but its beams danced with dust motes. The design of the room was in a typically grand Italian style, although its furnishings wouldn’t have been out of place in an English country house.

‘Oh, my goodness!’ Kira exclaimed. ‘A little bit of England overseas!’

Following close behind her, Stefano clicked his tongue when he saw her shudder.

‘My stepparents have spent a lifetime collecting stuff like this. Cane-back chairs, chintz upholstery and Goss china. Sir Ivan must have shipped everything over here from England. Why on earth would you move to Italy, then recreate England in your new home?’

‘I don’t know.’ Stefano was equally put out at the sight. His mouth was a stern line of disapproval. ‘Some foreigners buy up these properties claiming to love Italy. In reality, Toscana is nothing more to them than England with better weather. They are more interested in worshipping their own land from a safe distance.’

‘I’m not. I love it here,’ Kira told him. ‘I couldn’t wait to leave England behind, decorations and all…’ She paused, wondering whether to push her luck, and decided she had nothing to lose.

‘If we’re going to be neighbours, I’d feel happier if I knew you were going to treat this old place well,’ she went on. ‘It would be such a shame to see it spoilt.’

‘It won’t matter to you for a few weeks a year, surely?’ He shrugged.

Kira was puzzled. ‘So you’re going to be away a lot?’

‘No, but you’ll be leaving with the summer, won’t you?’

Kira coloured up angrily. ‘Why should I?’

‘So you won’t be flitting between here and your home in England?’ He looked surprised.

She shook her head defiantly. ‘No! I thought I’d made it clear—I don’t have a home in England any more. In any case, I couldn’t bear to leave at the end of summer, as the holiday-home owners do. How could I abandon my home here? The Bella Terra valley is everything I want—peace and beauty.’

Stefano’s dark brows lightened a little. ‘I assume that means you could find no peace in England, so you brought your beauty here?’

His voice was low and melodious but his eyes shone with mischief. Drawn to look straight at him again, Kira could not help lifting her lips in the ghost of a smile, but she said nothing.

‘I don’t know of many people who would willingly hide away in such an isolated spot,’ he murmured. ‘You’re not afraid to stand up for yourself, you work for your living and you love this place as much as I intend to. How could anything make such a forthright, independent woman leave England under a cloud?’

Kira lifted one hand and began to fiddle with a skein of her dark auburn hair.

‘It was a combination of things,’ she said, hoping to stop him asking any more awkward questions.

He lifted his brows still higher, encouraging her to unburden herself. She shifted from foot to foot. Her fingers moved from her hair to toy with the thin gold chain around her neck. Stefano watched her. He seemed genuinely interested, and ready to listen. Suddenly she was tired of bottling everything up, and keeping herself to herself. She wanted to talk. She needed someone who might sympathise, or at least answer back. It hardly mattered about the words. She had never seen Stefano Albani before today, and might never see him again. He had already proved himself to be sympathetic. If she explained the whole miserable business to him, as an impartial third party, it might make her feel better.

It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him the whole sorry story. She pushed the guilty words against her teeth, trying to force them out. It was no good. She had kept silent for so long, she didn’t know where to begin. Finally, she shook her head.

‘It’s nothing.’

He considered her gravely. ‘I think it is. Something is obviously weighing heavily on your mind.’

He took a step towards her. Kira knew he moved almost silently, but the brush of his leather-soled shoes sounded loud in the peace of the reception room. She stared at the floor. She winced when his feet appeared in her field of view, but it was still a shock to feel the gentle touch of his hand on her shoulder.

‘There’s no need to jump. I’m only offering a little support,’ he said.

‘I don’t need it,’ she said staunchly, but he took no notice and never moved. His touch was warm, reassuring…seductive. In spite of herself, Kira relished the feeling. Then he spoiled the effect. His touch vibrated slightly. She looked up, and saw laughter in his eyes.

‘One day, I would really enjoy the chance to discuss sins with you, Miss Kira Banks. Whatever you may have done, I’m sure I can top it!’

With a sharp twist of her head, Kira looked away. She could not bear to let him see her misery. Squeezing her lids tightly closed, she battled to stop the tears falling. She was so lost in her own despair she was completely unprepared for what happened next. Stefano closed the gap between them. His arms glided around her. She was drawn into his body again, and it felt so natural she let it happen without a word. For a few heart-stopping seconds she leaned against him. The sensation of his shirt pressed against her cheek and the enveloping male fragrance of him closed her eyes.

‘Is there anything I can do?’ His voice echoed around the unloved caverns of the villa.

Kira shook her head. ‘I’d be grateful if you could just drop the subject,’ she managed, with a trace of steel showing through her muttered words.

‘Okay.’

He took his time in releasing her. Kira normally disliked physical contact, but this was different. Stefano seemed to specialise in the sort of touch she might like to experience again.

He obviously wasn’t going to give up on her. Kira sensed he couldn’t resist a challenge any more than she could. However, she also knew her fragile self-esteem couldn’t stand too many questions. Her reaction to unwarranted attention was usually to snap first, and apologise later. It appeared that this hadn’t dissuaded Stefano in the slightest. The most disconcerting thing about that was how ready she’d been to indulge in the comfort he offered. Pull yourself together! she ordered herself silently. This man was clearly used to getting his own way and she was embarrassed how easily she had mistaken his charm for anything more permanent.

A hint of her old defiance returned. It allowed her to face him calmly, but it didn’t stop her cheeks flaming red at how much she had nearly revealed. ‘I’m sorry, signore. That was a momentary lapse, but now you’ll see that I really don’t want to talk about it. So I’d be grateful if we could leave it at that. Okay?’ she finished crisply.

Stefano’s gaze ebbed away from her as she spoke. He said nothing. Instead, he tightened his lips, and bobbed his head once in silent agreement. In the pause that followed, he glanced around. His eyes, like his body, were restless.

‘Everyone has parts of their lives they’re not proud of,’ he conceded. ‘I can relate to that. So if we agree on a truce, can we continue with the tour?’

He had been almost teasing as he tried to extract her secret, but now he had retreated again behind that impenetrable mask. Kira felt a strange pang of loss. She wondered if he ever experienced the sort of social unease that tortured her. It seemed unlikely. What could ever make such a man feel inadequate?

She nodded and gave him a fleeting smile. ‘Of course.’

What would it feel like to unburden herself to him? She was certain he would listen. Really listen, and not simply humour her because he wanted something. Life would take on a different dimension. It was something she had never bothered about before, but a few seconds in Stefano’s arms had opened up a whole new world of possibilities for her. It almost tempted her out of her shell, but not quite. If he couldn’t be on time for a business appointment, he was hardly likely to treat a casual acquaintance any better. She gave up on the idea. At least when she was on the defensive, she couldn’t be hurt.

‘If you are really interested in buying the Bella Terra estate, Signor Albani, you should be making the most of your visit. You mustn’t stand around here with me.’

Without waiting for his reply, she turned her back on him and walked out of the sunlit room. The vast, gloomy hall beyond was supposed to cool her feelings.

‘There’s no need to run away from me, Kira.’

She stopped.

‘You might be surprised,’ she said finally.

Her darkening attitude didn’t bother Stefano at all. He stuck one hand casually in his pocket, and grinned at her.

‘So what are you waiting for, then? Surprise me.’

His words made her uncertain. Until a short time ago, endless surprises—none of them good—had been the story of her life. Then she had escaped, and moved to Italy. For a couple of years she had experienced wonderful freedom. And now, with the loss of Sir Ivan, her foremost client, she was faced with the threat that happiness might soon be snatched away from her again. Unconsciously, her shoulders began to sag. Then she sensed his gaze was still on her. She looked up. He was still quizzing her with his eyes.

She shrugged. ‘I’m afraid there’s nothing more to me than you see here, signore.’

His face was totally impassive but he went on watching her as he said quietly, ‘Then it’s a good job I came here to see the Bella Terra estate, rather than anything else. My journey won’t have been entirely wasted,’ he announced before setting off across the hall again. ‘Now, down to business. I want to look around this house. Would you like to come with me?’

Chapter Three

TOGETHER, they began to walk.

‘Why did Bella Terra’s owner—the English gentleman—leave you alone here?’ Stefano was looking at her in a new way. Kira preferred the old one, but still felt her cheeks flare.

‘He died.’

For the first time, the smile left Stefano’s eyes. ‘Then I’m sorry.’

His sympathy looked genuine. Kira decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. ‘He was eighty-five, signore, so it was hardly unexpected.’

He shrugged. ‘But it must have been a shock, all the same. Deaths are always tragic.’ His last words grated uncomfortably in the marble-lined hall. Kira recognised a dangerous flash in his eyes. She couldn’t help noticing the length and thickness of his soot-dark lashes. He probably knows they are one of his best features, she warned herself abruptly. It can be the only reason he keeps looking at me like that.

‘I’m sorry you lost a friend, Kira. I know what that is like.’ His voice was distant and regretful. Something about the tone hinted that he had his own secrets.

He shook his head suddenly, as if discarding old memories and turned to her, a playful smile again curving the corners of his mouth, taking refuge in flirtation.

‘Kira—that is a beautiful name for a lovely woman. Coupled with your shining auburn hair, jade-green eyes and magnolia skin, what more could any man want?’

That broke the spell.

‘Nothing—until his wife finds out.’ Sidestepping him smartly, Kira headed back across the shady hall towards the only parts of the house she had seen before. That way she could put a little distance between them, without losing contact entirely. People made her uneasy, and that feeling fed on itself. Every time she began to warm towards Stefano, she felt bound to pull herself back into line. Yet increasingly, his every move held her hypnotised. When he started sweet talking her, it was too tender a reminder of how things could turn sour all too soon.

‘I have no worries on that score, Kira. I don’t have a wife.’

She heard his footsteps fall in beside her, but did not look at him.

‘That’s what they all say—to begin with, Signor Albani.’