Lily heard the sudden bitterness which had entered his voice but the steeliness of his profile made her bite back the question which had been hovering on her lips. ‘You see,’ she said. ‘Everybody has their own stuff which they carry around with them.’
‘I guess they do,’ said Ciro, finding himself in the unusual situation of having an intimate conversation with a woman he hadn’t even had sex with. And the thought of having sex with her made him start to ache again.
‘Why not just sit back and enjoy the ride?’ he said unevenly.
Lily tried to do as he suggested, but it wasn’t easy. She wanted to pretend that this was her life. She wanted to forget the cramped reality of her new home and the worry of how she could possibly make it feel big enough for Jonny, when he came home. And she wanted to stop feeling this powerful sexual attraction towards the dark and dangerous Neapolitan.
‘Where are we going?’ she asked.
‘A place called The Meadow House—do you know it?’
‘You mean the hotel?’
‘That’s the one,’ he said, without missing a beat.
Lily gave her dress an unnecessary tug. ‘You’re staying there?’
‘Mmm. I didn’t want to drive back to London after dinner, and besides—’ he glanced in his rear mirror ‘—I like to think of it as a bit of a fact-finding mission. Finding out what the local competition is like. They’ve just employed a Michelin-starred chef who’s come from Paris to oversee the kitchen and I’m interested to know what’s on the menu.’
Lily wasn’t remotely interested in the food on offer, or the fortunes of some unknown chef, and she suspected that Ciro wasn’t either. Because it didn’t matter how he dressed it up. The bottom line was that he was taking her back to his hotel—and the message from that was loud and clear. He obviously expected her to sleep with him!
She glanced down at his powerful thighs. At the strong, olive-skinned hands which bit into the soft leather of the steering wheel as if it were a woman’s flesh. Of course he expected her to sleep with him! He was a red-blooded Italian man and the atmosphere between them had been sizzling from the get-go. He was hardly bringing her to his hotel for an evening of sophisticated chit-chat!
But she was disappointed that he could be so… obvious. Despite all her reservations about this date, she’d expected him to at least have a stab at playing the gentleman. Did he really think she was going to fall into bed with him simply because she’d agreed to have dinner? She stared at the hedgerows which were whipping past them, their leaves gilded rose-gold by the light of the setting sun. Because if that was the case—then he was in for a shock.
Lost in thought, Lily barely noticed the rest of the journey until the car slid to a halt in the car park at the back of The Meadow House, alongside a fleet of other shiny and expensive vehicles. She followed Ciro into the main reception where everyone seemed to know him, and they were taken through to the garden at the back.
Here, the tables had been laid up as if the management had suddenly decided to hold an impromptu picnic. The place settings had a Bohemian look, with mismatched crockery and wine glasses which were coloured ruby, emerald and amber. Starry jasmine scented the air and tea-lights glimmered on every available surface, so that it felt like walking into an intimate arena of flickering light.
Despite her reservations about the evening ahead, or the fact that their arrival had attracted the interest of the upmarket diners, Lily was enchanted as she looked around. ‘Oh, it’s beautiful,’ she said softly.
Ciro watched as the candlelight gilded her golden head. ‘You’ve never been here before?’
‘Never.’
He heard the trace of wistfulness in her voice as they sat down and once again he found himself wondering why she sometimes seemed so lost. As if she’d suddenly found herself alone in a great big world with most of the cares of it on her slender shoulders. What had happened to make her like that? He waited until they’d ordered and their champagne had been poured, before sitting back and studying her.
The candlelight was casting flickering shadows over the pale skin of her décolletage, deepening the shadows where her luscious breasts curved invitingly.
‘Pretty dress,’ he murmured.
‘Really?’
‘Really. Pretty colour, too. Did you buy it especially to match your eyes?’
Lily smiled. She’d bought the material because it had been in the end-of-line bin and an absolute bargain. ‘Actually, I didn’t buy it at all. I made it myself.’
‘You make your own clothes?’
If she’d announced that she wing-walked on light aircraft, he couldn’t have looked or sounded more shocked. ‘You seem surprised.’
‘That’s because I am.’ Ciro took a sip of water to ease the sudden dryness in his throat. ‘I don’t usually come across women who are quite so accomplished, or so hard-working.’
‘No?’ Lily couldn’t stop herself. ‘Then what kind of women do you usually come across?’
There was a pause as Ciro considered her question. He thought of pencil skirts and killer stilettos. Of glossy lips and crotchless panties. Of women who were this soft, sweet creature’s very antithesis. He thought of Eugenia, with her impeccable pedigree and beautiful, calculating expression. And he looked into Lily’s blue eyes and nobody seemed to exist in that moment except for her. ‘Nobody who matters,’ he said softly. ‘And here comes our food.’
The waiter brought plates of squash, fanned into artistic golden slivers and dotted with soft goat’s cheese, and Lily stared at it, wondering if she would be able to do it justice. How ironic to be presented with such delicious food on the one time her normally robust appetite seemed to have deserted her. But maybe Ciro felt the same way, judging from the way he was picking uninterestedly at his starter.