Had she been unfair to Silvio?
Stacey rinsed the knife under the tap. ‘Some people are too messed up, I suppose. Or perhaps they just don’t want to be saved. But at the end of the day there’s only so much someone else can do, isn’t there? They can give you a ladder but it’s up to you to climb up it.’
Was it that simple? Silvio should have known that Johnny would misuse the money, shouldn’t he? He should have known that Johnny didn’t have the strength to resist temptation. He wasn’t blameless. ‘Why does he employ people who have been in trouble—is it cheap labour?’
‘You’re more cynical than I am and, no, it’s not cheap labour. He pays well.’ Stacey reached for the olive oil. ‘When you come out of prison, it’s hard to get a job. Employers just won’t take a chance on you. Silvio does. He doesn’t care what’s in your past.’
‘So he’s a soft touch.’
‘Soft?’ Laughing, Stacey finished what she was doing and washed her hands. ‘He’s about as soft as steel. And clever.’
‘But—’
‘He gets something back that money can’t buy, and that’s loyalty. He has virtually zero staff turnover. Not one of his employees has ever sold him out to the press, or anyone else for that matter. They just wouldn’t. We all owe him.’
None of that changed the fact that if Silvio hadn’t given Johnny the money, her brother might still be alive.
‘How many of his staff…?’ Jessie felt awkward finishing the question but Stacey just grinned.
‘Did he drag from the streets? Dunno. He treats us all the same, you see, so you’d never know. Do you want another coffee?’
‘She doesn’t have time.’ Silvio strode across the galley and took Jessie’s hand in his, pulling her off the stool. ‘The helicopter is waiting. Stacey, you have five minutes to put together a delicious picnic. Something special.’
‘Yes, boss.’ Rising to the challenge with a delighted grin, Stacey shot towards the enormous fridge, obviously only too pleased to show what she could do.
Jessie’s face was scarlet—partly because she’d been caught talking about him but mostly because seeing him in daylight after what they’d shared the night before felt hideously awkward. Her stomach cramped and her pulse rate doubled. She didn’t want to look at him and yet she couldn’t not look. She wanted to ask him why they needed a picnic when they had nothing more to say to each other, but she felt too self-conscious to speak to him in front of Stacey. His hand still held hers tightly and the warmth and strength in his grip did something strange to her insides.
Wasn’t he angry with her?
After what she’d said to him the night before, he should have been angry.
And after her conversation with Stacey, she no longer knew how she felt.
Oblivious to the atmosphere between the two of them, Stacey was moving around the kitchen efficiently, chopping, wrapping, washing salad and adding various items to a large coolbox. Then she winked at Silvio and added a bottle of champagne and some glasses. ‘Just in case you’re thirsty, boss. Do you want me to have it taken to the helicopter?’
‘No, I’ll take it myself.’ Silvio held out his free hand and gave Stacey a rare smile. ‘Grazie.’
‘Prego,’ Stacey said in a broad London accent, and Silvio winced.
‘You really must work on that accent. Tell Chef we won’t be back for dinner tonight.’ Without giving Jessie the opportunity to question that command, he tightened his grip on her hand and walked purposefully towards the upper deck.
Wondering whether he’d overheard any of her conversation with Stacey, Jessie tugged at her hand. ‘Wait—Silvio—’ It felt as though everything was shifting around her and she couldn’t keep her balance.
‘I’m not good at waiting.’ Still pulling her along with him, he didn’t slacken his stride and she wondered why it was that he was always so sure of everything he did.
Life wasn’t that black and white, was it?
Jessie couldn’t stand the tension any longer. She had no idea where they were going or why, but she knew she had things to say. ‘At least tell me where we’re going.’
‘Somewhere we can be together without an audience.’ Without pausing, Silvio took the steps that led to the small helicopter pad. ‘Somewhere we can talk.’
‘What is there to say?’ Was he expecting her to apologise for what she’d said to him?
‘Plenty.’ His eyes unfathomable, Silvio touched her cheek gently with his fingers and then urged her onto the helicopter. He spoke to his pilot in Italian and moments later they were lifting into the air and the yacht was suddenly far beneath them.
‘Where are we going? What are we doing?’ Jessie turned towards him and he relaxed in his seat.
‘Consider it foreplay,’ he said huskily, a sardonic smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as his eyes made contact with hers. ‘Generally you like plenty of foreplay—wasn’t that what you told me? I’m giving you what you want, tesoro.’