‘Don’t worry,’ Gino said. ‘She’s as crazy about me as I am about her. From now on, everything’s going to be fine.’
CHAPTER FOUR
ALEX had often heard of the magic of Italy, but, being a practical person, she had dismissed it as romanticising. Now she found that it was real.
Perhaps it was in the light that intensified every colour. Or perhaps it was Florence, packed with medieval buildings, where there were as many cobblestones as modern roads.
She tried not to be seduced by the beauty. She was only here to raise money, then return to London, marriage to David, the partnership: in other words, her ‘real’ life.
It was just that it seemed less real suddenly, and she could feel no hurry to push things along. David had told her to take as much time as she needed, and it might be better to stay here for a while, and broaden her mind.
So the day after her meeting with Gino, she did something she hadn’t done for years. She played hookey.
Firmly turning off her mobile phone she hired a car and left Florence, heading south. After a few miles she began to climb until she reached the tiny, ancient town of Fiesole.
After wandering its cobbled streets for an hour, she found a restaurant with tables on a balcony looking far down, and sat there, sipping coffee and gazing at the rows of cypresses, and the elegant villas that were laid out before her.
‘You’re in good company,’ said a quiet voice.
Rinaldo had appeared, seemingly from nowhere. She wondered how long he had been standing there, watching her.
But today, although his face was grave, there was no antagonism in it as he came to sit at her table.
‘Good company?’ she asked.
‘Your English writers, Shelley and Dickens, once admired this valley. Down there is the villa where Lorenzo de Medici entertained his literary friends. This little town is known as the mother of Florence. Look around and you’ll see why.’
Alex saw it at once. The whole panorama of Florence, barely five miles away, was spread out before them, glowing in the noon haze, the great Duomo rising out of a sea of roofs, dwarfing everything else.
‘What are you doing up here?’ he asked lightly.
‘Do I need your permission?’
‘Not at all, but wouldn’t you be better occupied negotiating? You’re a woman of business. There’s work to be done, and here you are, wasting time, staring into the distance.’
Alex didn’t normally quote poetry, but this time she couldn’t resist it.
‘What is this life if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare?’
Rinaldo frowned. ‘Who said that?’
‘An English poet.’
‘An
‘Yes,’ she said, nettled. ‘Strange as it may seem, an Englishman wrote it. Shock! Horror! Now you might have to adjust your ideas about the English.
‘You think of me holding court, receiving my financial suitors one by one, selling you out to the highest bidder. And let’s face it, that’s how you prefer to see me.’
Rinaldo hailed a passing waiter and ordered two coffees. Alex had an amused feeling that he was giving himself a breathing space to come to terms with her attack.
‘You were probably following me up here,’ she added, ‘to see if I met up with a prospective buyer behind your back.’
‘No, I’ve been visiting friends in Fiesole. This is pure chance.’
Suddenly she remembered that Gino had said his wife came from this town, and wondered if he had been to see Maria’s family.
‘Anyway, you’re wrong,’ she said in a gentler tone. ‘I have nothing to negotiate, not with Montelli or anyone else of his kind, until I’ve first talked seriously with you. Anyway, I dislike him.’
Rinaldo gave her a grin that was as harsh as it was humorous. ‘The question is, do you dislike him as much as you dislike me?’
‘I haven’t quite decided, but it makes no difference. I never allow personalities to interfere with business.’
‘Like a good accountant?’ he mocked.
‘No, like a civilised human being actually,’ she said crisply.
He gave a half nod, acknowledging a hit to her.
The coffees were served, giving them both a brief time out.
‘I wonder what your notion of “civilised” includes,’ he mused when they were alone again. ‘My brother?’
‘Your brother is a nice lad, but I told him, and I’m telling you, don’t treat me like a fool.’
‘Meaning?’
‘Meaning that you should have been ashamed to be so obvious. You sent him out to say pretty nothings to me because you thought I was a ninny who’d faint the moment an Italian gave her the eye. Well, he’s delightful and he made my head spin-not perhaps as much as you planned, but enough for a very nice day.
‘But let me make one thing plain to you, Signor Farnese. I do not make serious decisions while my head is spinning. I hope that’s clear.’
He began to laugh, a robust, virile sound that was free from strain. He could be really attractive, she realised; a man, in contrast to his brother’s boyishness.
‘I see that Gino has been fooling himself,’ he said. ‘This isn’t the impression I got from him.’
There was a silence, during which they eyed each other. Alex smiled.
‘Signor Farnese, if you’re waiting for me to ask what he said about me, you’ll wait for ever.’
He raised his eyebrows. ‘You’re not interested in knowing?’
‘Let’s just say that I have exceptional self-control.’
He inclined his head in salute.
‘My compliments,
‘I don’t think there’s any fear of that! He knew the nature of the duel. His heart isn’t involved any more than mine.’
‘Don’t be too sure of that. Gino is a man who gives his affections easily. In that, he is not like me, or you.’
‘You know nothing about me.’
‘Only what you’ve just told me, which is that you’re a woman who likes to be in control-’
‘Just like you.’
‘Just like me. Also like me, your head rules your heart. I respect that, but it makes me wary of you.’
‘You mean I’m not going to be the simple-minded walkover that you were expecting.’
‘I don’t think I would ever call you simple-minded,’ he said gravely. ‘May I buy you lunch?’
‘No, thank you. I’ve had a snack and it’s time for me to be going.’
‘Let me walk with you to your car.’
She led the short distance to where she had parked, and as soon as he saw her car he grimaced.
‘What’s wrong?’ she demanded.
‘I know this car. I know the firm you hired it from. Neither are reliable.’
As if to prove it, the car made forlorn choking noises and refused to budge.
‘Oh, great!’ she said, exasperated. ‘How do I start this?’
‘You don’t. You’ll have to abandon it and tell the firm to come for it later.’
Muttering, she got out and called the hire firm on her mobile phone. The ensuing conversation was terse on both sides. The firm was reluctant to accept responsibility, insisting that the car had been perfect when consigned
