‘Ilovedit. I’ve never had a day like it.’
‘I told you Tuscany is special.’
He didn’t understand. He thought she was simply talking about the stunning buildings and pretty vistas. The meandering streets. The cornucopia of produce displayed at the food market.
Ida shook her head. ‘The place is lovely, but I meant more than that. It’s been a revelation. Not just the architecture and the people. Or even the food.’
She’d adored the food. The lemongelatohad tingled on her tongue like a frozen taste of summer. The red wine they’d sampled at a small vineyard had been so rich and full. Their lunch, simple but delicious.
‘You’ve given me...’ She searched for the right words, to her chagrin feeling her throat tighten. She didn’tdoemotional.
‘Ida? What is it?’
He reached out, his hand squeezing hers.
She felt that immediate rush of pleasure. Was it possible that in just two days she’d become addicted to his touch? It almost felt like Cesare had the power to convince her he could make everything okay.
But life wasn’t so simple.
They approached a tight curve in the road and Cesare put his hand back on the steering wheel. Ida told herself she was glad. She felt too much emotion bubbling inside without Cesare’s touch befuddling her.
Deliberately she focused on the shadows of dark ochre and plum lengthening across the undulating countryside as the sun dropped.
‘It’s hard to explain.’
She hesitated, torn between needing to let him know how much today meant and caution at revealing too much.
‘Try me. I want to know. I want to understand.’
Ida had spent her life learning to hold in strong feelings, not to share them. Kate was a generation older. She’d cared for Ida and tried her best, but had never been a true confidante, and Ida’s grandfather had been the very reason she’d learned to keep her emotions buttoned down.
‘Everywhere we went, everything we did, was fun and fascinating. But it’s not that. It’s the fact you thought about what might appeal and then organised a day that was totally forme.’
She heard the tell-tale wobble in her voice and paused.
‘Thank you, Cesare. I’ll remember today always. It was a lovely gift.’
He’d made her feel special, though she understood his motivations weren’t solely about pleasing her.
For the longest time he didn’t say anything. Eventually she turned and found him frowning at the road as they swooped down a hill.
Finally, he spoke. The rush of wind past the car must have affected her hearing because he sounded different, his voice hoarse.
‘You’ve never had that before? A time just for you?’
‘Not since my parents died.’ She stopped. The contrast between her happy childhood and later years was too stark. Even with Kate, Ida had always been conscious that she was an unasked-for burden, though her cousin had never said so. ‘Anyway, I want you to know I appreciate it. You’ve been very generous with your time.’
They could have stayed on Cesare’s estate, and she’d have been happy. She adored sex with this man. His tenderness and his urgency, his patient seduction and his outrageously exciting demands. When they weren’t making love, she had the run of his pool, his library, the pretty gardens, the cinema room and—
‘Usually when women speak about generosity, they mean dates somewhere expensive or extravagant gifts.’
‘You mix with the wrong sort of women.’ She shot him a challenging stare and saw his tight smile.
‘What about tomorrow?’
‘Tomorrow? What about it?’
‘Don’t you want to go out again?’