The Millionaire Tycoon's English Rose

‘Let’s have some fresh coffee,’ she said at last, rising. ‘I’ll just go into the kitchen and tell Rosa. She’s the best cook in Naples-but you’ll discover that for yourself when you come to dinner.’

‘Thank you. I’d love to.’

Hope was gone a few minutes. Just as she prepared to return she heard the sound of a car drawing up outside, and a glance out of the window showed her Francesco arriving. She was about to call him when she realised Celia would be bound to hear her. Instead, she returned to the main room, and arrived just a second too late.

Francesco had started to walk through the doorway when he saw Celia. He stopped dead, silent and motionless. Hope, watching his face from the other side of the room, saw in it all she wanted to know.

The sight of her had astounded him, penetrating his armour that was so strong against the rest of the world, leaving him exposed and defenceless. He just stood there, staring at Celia, paler than his mother had ever seen him before. He actually seemed unable to speak, and his breathing was shallow, as though he’d received a blow over the heart.

‘Hallo, Francesco,’ Celia said calmly.

Of course she recognised him, Hope thought. She knew his step. Of the two of them, she was the one in command of this situation.

Although she had spoken to Francesco, Celia’s face was half turned away from him, so that Hope had a good view of her expression and saw the soft, eager smile that touched her mouth. Her eyes danced with pure joy.

‘I had no idea that you were coming to Italy,’ Francesco said slowly, and there was a slight hesitation in his voice that would have been a stammer in any other man.

‘I thought it was time I changed my life,’ she said cheerfully. ‘Found new horizons, learned new skills.’

‘But-why Italy?’

‘Because you may recall that I spent some time learning Italian in case you and I ever came here together. It seemed a shame to waste it. So if you had any idea that I’d come trotting after you, you can just think again, oh, conceited one!’

‘That wasn’t what I-’

‘Yes, it was. It’s the first thing that came into your head.’

‘Well, I didn’t expect to find you sitting in my mother’s front room. Does she know who you are?’

‘I think she guessed as soon as she saw Jacko.’

‘Who the hell is Jacko? Your latest romance?’

‘You might say we’re constantly in each other’s company. He takes me everywhere.’

‘I’ll bet he never gets told to keep his hands to himself because you’re better off without him,’ Francesco said bitterly.

Celia’s voice rose slightly in indignation.

‘For pity’s sake, Jacko is my dog!’

He swore under his breath.

‘Don’t be vulgar, my son,’ Hope said.

‘I didn’t see you there, Mamma. This is-yes-well…’ His voice trailed off as he realised the incongruity of what he was saying.

‘I’ve been here over an hour,’ Celia said merrily. ‘Your mother knows who I am by now. I came to return some things that belong to you. They’re in that bag by my feet, next to Jacko.’

‘He’s black,’ Francesco said, regarding Jacko. ‘I didn’t see him in the shadow.’

‘Come and say hallo to him,’ Celia offered.

He came forward uneasily and reached out to stroke the dog, who stretched up his head for a moment, then settled down again. Francesco seated himself close enough to Celia to talk quietly.

‘I don’t believe this is happening. What the devil are you doing here?’

‘I’ve told you. But well done for being honest! None of that stuff about pretending to be glad to see me.’

He bit his lip. So often in the past he’d snagged himself on her sharp wits, and clearly nothing had changed.

‘Is there any reason why I should be glad to see you?’ he growled.

‘None that I can think of.’

‘Good. Then, as you say, honesty is the best policy.’

‘I expect you’ve got someone else by now,’ she said casually. ‘Don’t worry, I’m not here to make trouble.’

‘There’s no-’ He checked himself but it was too late. Now she would know.

‘Then I’m not causing you any problems by being here?’ she said.

‘No problem at all,’ he agreed briskly. ‘I’m glad to see that you seem to be on top of the world.’

‘Right on top,’ she agreed. ‘I love your country.’

She repeated the last words in Italian, for the benefit of Hope, whose footsteps she could hear. Delighted, Hope explained in Italian that her husband was here, too, and introduced him.

Celia responded with a few more words in Italian, which made Toni tease, ‘Ah, but can you speak our dialect?’

He proceeded to teach her a few words of Neapolitan, which she mastered at once, and demanded to learn more.

‘You learn very fast,’ Toni said admiringly. ‘I expect you’re good at that?’

‘Yes, I depend on my mind a lot more than sighted people have to,’ Celia said calmly. ‘My parents, who are blind, too, used to teach me all sorts of memory tricks when I was a child. I’m still proud of my memory, but, of course, now there are all sorts of gadgets to make life easy.’

‘Easy?’ Toni echoed, smiling at her kindly. ‘Well, perhaps.’

Hope drew Francesco aside.

‘I think she’s marvellous,’ she said. ‘What possessed you to leave her?’

‘I didn’t leave her, Mamma. She threw me out. She actually said, ‘I don’t want to see you here again.’ She talks like that-like a sighted person-because she almost doesn’t realise that she’s any different to anyone else. And I can’t make her realise it.’

‘Perhaps you’re wrong to try,’ Hope says thoughtfully. ‘Why do you want to force her to realise something she doesn’t want to know?’

‘Because she can’t live for ever in a fantasy. I only wanted her to be a little realistic-’

‘Realistic?’ Hope echoed, aghast. ‘Do you think you have anything to teach that girl about realism? I don’t wonder she threw you out. I’d like to do the same.’

‘You’ll probably get around to it,’ he said with a wry grin.

Before she could say any more there was a small buzz from Celia’s wrist.

‘It’s my watch,’ she explained. ‘I set the alarm to go for six o’clock. I have to get back to town and meet a customer.’

‘But I want you to have supper with us,’ Hope mourned.

‘I’m sorry, I’d have loved to, but I’m still making my mark in a new job, so I have to try to impress people.’

‘But you will come another night?’ Hope asked anxiously.

‘I’ll look forward to it. Can you call me a taxi?’

‘I’ll take you,’ Francesco said at once. ‘I’ll be home later, Mamma.’

‘Thank you,’ Celia said. ‘Jacko?’

Hope saw Francesco lean forward, as though about to take her arm, then check himself and pull his hand back quickly. Something told Hope that Celia was fully aware of this, although she showed no sign of awareness.

‘Until we meet again, signora,’ she said to Hope, before following Jacko out of the door.

CHAPTER FOUR

‘WHERE are we going?’ he asked as he started up the car.

‘It’s a little cafe called the Three Bells.’

‘I know it.’