Afterwards, they fed each other olives and black grapes and drank good red wine. And they talked endlessly. About Morante Group—the chief operating officer sent daily reports that Paloma discussed with Daniele, and she was glad of his opinions and advice. He told her about his e-commerce company and his determination to help young entrepreneurs become successful, and they discovered a shared commitment to promote the charitable foundation that was Marcello Morante’s great legacy.
Sometimes in the quiet stillness of the night, Daniele spoke about Afghanistan while Paloma listened without commenting, knowing he needed to let the blackness inside him pour out. And when he stopped talking and pulled her beneath him, she held him tightly and told him with her body the secrets she kept locked in her heart.
One golden day slipped into another and another, and Paloma lost track of time. It felt as though their Tuscan idyll would never end. She should have known that nothing was for ever.
Daniele watched Paloma moving around the kitchen with her innate grace that captivated him. She was wearing one of his shirts that was too big for her and stopped midway down her slender, golden tanned thighs. The knowledge that she was naked beneath the shirt made his body clench. Desire was a fire smouldering inside him that regularly blazed into an inferno. He wondered when he would grow tired of her. For surely he must? In his experience, sexual attraction always burned out.
She stirred something in a bowl and paused to study a recipe in Daniele’s only cookbook that Enrique’s wife had given him. He’d never opened the front cover.
‘What are you making?’ He strolled across the kitchen, more because of his need to be close to Paloma than any real interest in the concoction in the bowl.
‘Chocolate mousse.’ She dipped a spoon into the mixture and held it against his lips. ‘What do you think?’
That you are driving me insane.He kept the thought to himself and licked the mousse off the spoon. ‘Delicious, but I prefer the taste of you on my tongue,cara.’ He was fascinated by the rosy blush that winged along her high cheekbones. ‘Who taught you to cook? Your mother?’
Paloma laughed. ‘Heavens, no. I told you I studied cordon bleu cookery at a Swiss finishing school that Nonno persuaded me to attend before I went to university. I doubt my mother has ever set a dainty foot inside a kitchen. After she divorced my father, she took me to live in London, and we had several staff, including a cook and butler. Mama blew her divorce settlement from Papa very quickly and just as quickly found herself another rich husband. I grew up thinking that money, not love, was the reason why people married.’
She poured the mousse into glass dishes and put them in the fridge. ‘Mama always forgot the dates of the school holidays, and invariably she was away on a cruise when my boarding school shut for the summer break. I used to stay with my friend Laura. Her family have a farm in Yorkshire, and her mother, especially, was always so welcoming and kind to me.’
Daniele suspected that Laura’s family had given Paloma the love and attention that she hadn’t received from her own parents. ‘Neither of our mothers were good role models.’
‘At least you now know from your mother’s letters that she didn’t completely abandon you when you were a boy.’
‘It doesn’t change the fact that she left me behind. I accept that the situation was complex, and my grandfather was a cruel man.’ His jaw hardened. ‘But what mother would leave their child?’
Paloma stared at him. ‘I know I couldn’t. When I have children, I will tell them every day that I love them,’ she said in a fierce voice. Her words hung in the air, and she jerked her gaze from Daniele as the atmosphere in the kitchen crackled with awkwardness.
It was not a surprise that she hoped to have children, he acknowledged. Of course she wanted a husband who loved her, babies, a family of her own. But they were not things that he could give her. He liked his freedom, at least that was what he told himself. Lately, he’d wondered if their marriage might continue after Paloma was twenty-five. But hearing her state that she hoped to have a family reminded him that he was not the man for her. Deep down, he would always believe that his mother had left him because she had not loved him enough to fight to keep him. If he hadn’t been good enough for his own mother, how could he be good enough for high-born Paloma Morante? And then there was his guilt that Gino had died and he’d lived, when it should have been the other way round. The truth was that he did not deserve Paloma, and she deserved a better man than him.
Paloma’s colour was high, and she avoided Daniele’s gaze. It occurred to him that perhaps she wanted more from their marriage bargain than she’d let him believe. And why shouldn’t she want more than a sexual fling? Unbelievably good though the sex was, he suspected she still clung to the romantic ideals that had made him wary of getting involved with her three years ago.
‘Let’s visit Lucca this afternoon,’ he suggested abruptly. The city was not far away. He needed to clear his head, but he could not do that at the farmhouse with the constant temptation to make love to Paloma. Up until now, he had avoided taking her to public places because of his concern for her safety. But his enquiries into who had been behind her kidnapping had not revealed a link to an organised gang. Paloma seemed as keen as him to leave the farmhouse and ran upstairs to change into suitable clothes for a trip out on the motorbike.
After the seclusion and quiet of the farmhouse, the crowds of people in Lucca’s narrow, cobbled streets took some getting used to, although Paloma knew that the city was less of a tourist attraction than Florence or Pisa. Pretty, historic Lucca was famous for its medieval city walls that were broad enough for pedestrians and cyclists to use. She and Daniele climbed the steps and strolled along the tree-lined promenade to admire the views of the city.
His strange mood at the farmhouse seemed to have lifted, but Paloma sensed that they both made an effort to act as though they were enjoying themselves. The Renaissance architecture of Lucca’s many churches was stunning, and another time she would have loved to climb to the top of the Guinigi Tower to visit the roof garden. But she kept picturing Daniele’s face when she’d spoken about having children. His barriers had gone up, and she had an awful feeling that he had read her mind and knew she’d daydreamed of having a baby with him.
They ate at a little trattoria that served amazing wood-fired pizza, but Paloma’s appetite had deserted her, and she was relieved when Daniele paid the bill and they returned to the bike. Dusk was falling and a soft mist lay over the fields as the motorbike sped along the winding road that led to the farmhouse. Her crash helmet blocked out sounds, and she was unaware that a car was following them until it drew alongside the bike.
Paloma assumed the car meant to overtake, but it suddenly veered so close that it clipped the motorbike’s rear wheel. Daniele accelerated, and she clung on to him tightly when the car came alongside again. There was no doubt it was trying to force the bike off the road. The car’s blacked-out windows meant that it was impossible to see the driver. The next few miles being chased by the car were terrifying, and Paloma was certain that Daniele would lose control of the bike and they would crash.
They were travelling incredibly fast, but then he suddenly braked hard and turned the bike through an opening in the hedge and into a field. Paloma looked over her shoulder and saw the car was following them. Daniele was heading towards the copse at the edge of the field. The bike tore into the woods and Paloma closed her eyes, sure they would slam into a tree trunk. But at least the car had been unable to follow them into the trees. Daniele drove on a little further before he cut the bike’s engine and they both dismounted.
Paloma’s hands were trembling as she pulled off her helmet and she burst into tears. ‘Whoever was driving that car could have killed us.’
‘I think that was the idea,’ Daniele said grimly. He drew her into his arms. ‘It’s all right,piccola.I won’t let anyone harm you.’
She stared at him. ‘Do you think the lunatic driver was the same person who arranged for me to be kidnapped in Mali?’ Fear churned in her stomach when she remembered that Daniele had said he believed an organised crime gang wanted to stop her from claiming her inheritance. ‘What are you doing?’ she asked when he took out his phone.
‘Arranging security measures for when we return to the palazzo. We can’t go back to the farmhouse, as it seems that whoever is behind the threats to you is aware of our location.’
Paloma remembered that she’d thought she had heard a noise in the farmhouse courtyard on the night of Daniele’s nightmare. ‘I’m scared,’ she whispered.
Daniele slid his hand beneath her chin and tilted her face up to his. ‘Whoever is trying to harm you must know that we are married and believe that, as your husband, I am the sole beneficiary to your fortune. Only you and I know I signed a prenuptial agreement that precludes me from gaining financially from our marriage. Someone wants both of us out of the way.’ He held her closer when she shivered. ‘I will protect you with my life, if necessary.’
Because you care about me, or because you promised Marcello that you would protect me?Paloma wanted to ask him. But then his dark head swooped down, and he angled his mouth over hers, kissing her fiercely.
Her senses were heightened from the adrenaline that had surged through her when they had been chased on the bike. All that mattered was that they were alive, and she kissed him back unguardedly, unable to hide her emotional response to him.