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‘In that case then I accept your offer … grazie.’

The night was inky dark, and roads like treacherous narrow ribbons were illuminated by the car headlights as Fabian smoothly confronted each one as if he regularly negotiated far trickier terrain—in even poorer light and with equal impressive ease. His hands were fascinating to watch. Lean, yet powerful, with flawless tanned skin—they would draw a woman’s eye whether he were sculpting clay, digging in the earth or holding a child …

Laura cut off the thought abruptly, even though the picture it conjured up was almost too tantalising for words.

‘Am I driving too fast for you?’

Both amusement and mockery wove through his compelling voice, and Laura glanced at his smiling profile with no little agitation. ‘I have no doubt that you are perfectly in control, Signor Moritzzoni, but I’d be a liar if I told you that the minuscule width of these roads plus the speed we are travelling at didn’t scare me! Would you mind slowing down just a little?’

The impressive Maserati responded to the lightest touch from Fabian—like something wild suddenly tamed—and immediately Laura sensed the powerful machine slow down to a much more acceptable pace. Her relieved sigh was clearly audible in the intimate confines of the luxurious interior, and a swift glance from Fabian told her that he was still somewhat entertained by her caution. He probably thought she was a complete scaredy cat. She had every reason to be cautious, but her new employer did not know that …

‘Is that better?’

‘Much … Thank you.’

‘So what did you think of our little town, hmm?’

‘I thought it was quite delightful. I got the feeling that there was a real sense of community amongst the inhabitants that’s very appealing to a city girl like me! The passeggiata was fascinating too!’

‘We are a very traditional culture, as you probably know, and that is more often reflected in the smaller towns and villages. But Italy is also very modern … more so in places like Milan or Rome.’

‘They always seem such impossibly glamorous destinations, hearing about them back in England! And although I would definitely like to visit them, I think I might just prefer your small town … even though it might not be so modern.’

‘So you are a traditionalist? The type of woman who would prefer home and family to a career and a glamorous social life?’

‘A glamorous social life has certainly never been on my personal agenda, but the conflict between bearing children and having a career doesn’t seem to get any easier for most women. However, I do think that the decision to have a child is such a momentous one that the child’s needs and welfare should definitely come before the demands of a career—you only get one chance at a childhood. But in an equal partnership that could equally apply to a man making that decision. If that view makes me a traditionalist, then I suppose I must be!’

For a few moments Fabian didn’t reply. Withdrawing his gaze only very briefly from the winding road, he examined Laura’s impassioned expression in the semi-dark, wearing a seriously thoughtful one of his own. ‘It is good to know that there are still young women who care so deeply about the welfare of children that choosing to stay home to take care of them over pursuing a career is not seen as such a sacrifice,’ he commented. ‘When what values we have left in western culture have been so cheapened by television and the media it is reassuring to learn that not everyone is so enamoured of or fooled by them.’

As if by mutual agreement they fell silent after that—as though both of them were privately surprised that they had found some unexpected common ground—and it seemed almost no time had passed before they were travelling the final road to their destination.

‘See?’ Fabian said softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners with a suggestion of pleasure. ‘There are the lights of the villa up ahead. We are almost home.’

Home … Laura wished her dream of what that entailed could be a reality … the reality her heart sorely longed for.

‘Fabian has asked us to join him for lunch,’ Carmela announced absent-mindedly as she breezed into the office midway through the morning. She picked up the master plan for the concert from her desk and glanced down at it with a small frown between her perfectly arched brows.

‘He has?’ On her knees in the middle of the sumptuously carpeted floor, unpacking yet another box of champagne flutes and checking that none was broken, Laura glanced up in shock and surprise.

The heat had descended like a tropical blanket, and the fans dotted round the room were rendered practically useless against such deadening temperatures. Her sleeveless pink linen dress clung stickily to her too-warm skin, yet Carmela looked as fresh and cool as an exotic water lily in comparison.

‘I know I was meant to be leaving at midday, but he insisted I stay for lunch and I agreed.’ Glancing up from her clipboard, the Italian girl rested her lovely gaze on Laura. ‘When Fabian insists on anything, one cannot really argue! Besides … he has been very good to me, and I do not like to disappoint him. He is a considerate, generous man … not a tyrant like some bosses you hear of!’

‘Yes, but why would he invite me too?’ Her brows drawn together in genuine puzzlement, Laura brushed a drifting strand of pale hair away from her face. ‘I’m only here temporarily, and there’s so much to do I really should just crack on. I can eat something later.’

‘That will not do at all!’ Carmela was aghast. ‘I told you. Fabian was most insistent that we both join him. He likes to entertain when he is at home—which is not very often because he travels so much. It helps him unwind, and a lunch like this is also an opportunity for him to get to know you a little before you start to work together, Laura.’

‘Well … in that case I suppose I should go.’

Summoning a smile, Laura silently reflected on the challenge of being driven home by her new employer last night—and now contemplating eating lunch with him today! The intimate arrangement of the seating inside his luxurious sedan, with its attendant and somehow sexy smells of leather and burnished wood, had made her far too aware of the man sitting beside her. So much so that every molecule of air around him had throbbed with the sheer force of his presence, and made it impossible for Laura to feel completely at ease. The conversation they had shared had worked its magic on her too. And even though Fabian had initially been driving too fast for her comfort, it had been a long time since she had felt so safe on a car journey.

The recollection of all this left a far too vivid impression on her already overloaded senses which was hard to dispel. But it was perfectly true what she’d said to Carmela. There was still so much to do, what with the concert scheduled to take place in just four days’ time, and as confident as the Italian girl appeared to be in Laura’s abilities, she had yet to earn that confidence.

Allowing himself the faintest of private smiles as he glanced round the elegantly laid luncheon table, Fabian started to relax. Surrounded by three very beautiful women, he had no argument about not being in his element.

As Aurelia Visconti—a vivacious raven-haired opera star from Verona—chatted to Carmela about her upcoming Caribbean honeymoon, Fabian found his gaze settling on the young Englishwoman. She looked a little flushed from the heat as they sat beneath the luxurious awning outside the orangerie, where they were dining, and her fine blonde hair kept descending in gentle drifts of diaphanous silk around her heart-shaped face …

He realised he was staring. ‘You are a little uncomfortable with our climate, I think, Signorina Greenwood?’ he commented, watching her pale eyes widen, as though she were startled from a dream.

Her fingers moved a little restlessly over the white linen tablecloth. ‘I’ll get used to it. Believe it or not, it was almost as hot in the UK before I left! Climates are changing all over the world, I think.’

‘That certainly seems to be the case.’

‘Still … when you look at the history of the world, the earth always seems to right itself again somehow. I don’t mean to say we can’t take steps to improve things, or admit our part in it, but at the end of the day it’s out of our hands, isn’t it?’

‘Another indication, perhaps, that we are not the ones in charge?’

‘Yes.’

‘Not an entirely comfortable thought for those who like to map out their lives down to the finest detail,’ he remarked with droll humour, leaning back a little in his chair. ‘So … you are not one of those people, Signorina Greenwood—if you believe that our fate is pretty much out of our hands?’

‘No. These days I neither plan nor look too far ahead. Life has a nasty habit of intervening whenever I try to control anything, I find.’

A cloud seemed to pass before her eyes, and Fabian intuited that her mind had visited a dark place for a moment. She was thoughtful and quiet, and seemingly without guile—it struck him how different she was from most women he got into conversation with. For a start there was not the slightest hint of flirtation in her eyes and—without being conceited—he had become accustomed to such an occurrence. Was she in a relationship and perhaps completely devoted to her partner? So much so that she would not dream of making eyes at someone else?

Finding the very concept much too alien to easily embrace, Fabian drummed his fingers on the table. He realised that he would not exactly be averse to Laura flirting a little with him. It was definitely time to divert his thoughts away from such dangerous ground.

‘Carmela tells me that you taught music in England? What ages were your pupils?’

‘Six and seven.’

‘So young!’

‘You are never too young to enjoy music.’

‘And clearly, by the look on your face, you enjoyed teaching the subject to them?’

‘I loved it, as a matter of fact.’ Her blush was in evidence again, and Fabian couldn’t help but derive pleasure from the sight of it. ‘That’s why I was pretty devastated when I lost my job,’ she admitted.

‘What happened?’

‘I was in an accident.’ Appearing as though she’d inadvertently taken a road she would clearly prefer not to go down, Laura grimaced. ‘Consequently I had to take a long period of time off, recuperating. When it was time for me to go back, the school principal told me that the authorities had decided to close down the music department due to lack of funding, and therefore there was no longer a position for me. Music wasn’t exactly a high priority in the school curriculum, but knowing how much the kids loved my classes, I think it’s a crying shame that they took that view.’

Remembering how passionate she’d sounded on the drive home last night when talking about children, Fabian felt an undeniable tug of profound interest.

‘Some educational establishments can be very shortsighted where the arts are concerned … but perhaps that will change in time, with enthusiastic teachers like you to point out the benefits?’ he suggested.

‘It would be nice to think so.’

About to enquire further about her work experience, and curious about the accident that had robbed her of her job, Fabian found his attention suddenly claimed by Aurelia Visconti.

Laying a smoothly plump hand bedecked with diamond rings possessively over his, her ruby-red lips forming a definite pout, ‘Darling!’ she exclaimed dramatically. ‘You are making me feel quite left out, talking to your little English friend over there instead of me! I am sure she has plenty to do, helping to arrange the concert, without monopolising your valuable free time as well!’

CHAPTER THREE

LAURA didn’t understand everything the other woman said, but she’d been listening to language tapes and devouring phrase books ever since she’d agreed with Carmela that she would fly out to Tuscany and act as her stand-in. Consequently she was quite capable of getting the gist of what the opera star’s meaning was, even if the look of disdain in her eyes didn’t render the message loud and clear.

All of a sudden she fervently wished that the final course would arrive. Then she could make her excuses and get back to work. In fact, she wondered if their host would protest if she bypassed the dessert altogether and left now? As she found herself glancing towards Fabian, and the possessive diva by his side, his startling blue gaze met and claimed hers for a long, perturbing moment. Her stomach dived into empty space, as though she were plunging off the edge of the earth.

‘Is something the matter, Laura?’ he asked, completely confounding her by using her first name and not the more formal address she’d been becoming used to.

‘No … nothing’s the matter. I was just wondering if you would mind if I didn’t have dessert and went back to work instead? I’m anxious to keep on top of things and I—’

‘It is my express wish that you stay until the end of our lunch!’ Looking surprised, then furious, Fabian glowered formidably. ‘I am not accustomed to my guests suddenly getting up to leave in the middle of a meal! As important as your duties undoubtedly are, they will just have to wait.’

Feeling everyone else’s gaze on her now, as well as their host’s, Laura knew the heat in her face must cover every shade from puce to cerise in one fell swoop. All she had wanted to do was escape a situation where she was struggling to feel at ease, and she genuinely wanted to get on with the job she’d been hired for. But instead she’d unwittingly offended the very man she couldn’t afford to offend. His attention had returned to the dazzling creature by his side, but Fabian’s hard, slightly arrogant jaw clearly confirmed her conclusion. Feeling miserable now, as well as hot, Laura reached for her glass of water and took a long draught of the ice-cold liquid, hoping it would help cool her embarrassment as well as quench her thirst.

Laura had been wished an affectionate farewell by a flushed and happy Carmela, eager to be off on her honeymoon at last, and had spent the rest of the afternoon familiarising herself with her new duties. She’d rung several of the companies that were providing their services on the night of the concert to introduce herself, and sent out a last small batch of invitations to staff at a local hospital. Carmela had deliberately kept a few back for this express purpose.

In the middle of arranging for flowers to be delivered from Fabian to the formidable Aurelia Visconti, at the villa she was staying at until just after the concert, Laura glanced up in surprise as the man himself put his head round the door. Could it be that there was something going on between him and the beautiful opera star? She told herself it was only human to speculate after the way the older woman had so clearly staked her claim on him for most of their lunch—although Carmela had mentioned in passing that her boss was divorced and unattached.

‘How are you getting on with everything?’ he asked.

‘Fine so far.’

‘No problems?’

Breaking off her telephone conversation, with her concentrated gaze Laura conveyed the fact that he had her full attention.

‘Nothing I couldn’t handle.’

‘Good. I just came to tell you that I am going out for a while, and do not expect to be back until later this evening.’

‘Okay.’

‘And tomorrow you will be moving into my office with me.’

‘Oh … is that really necessary? I mean, I’ve just got used to where everything is, and won’t a move take up valuable time away from organising the concert?’

‘It will take up hardly any time at all. You will need me around to ask questions, and sometimes to talk to people and problem-solve. It will be easier for us both for purposes of work if we are in closer proximity. Was there anything you needed to ask me before I go?’

‘Not that I can think of right now.’

Feeling heat throb through her at the realisation that from tomorrow onwards she would be working in the same office as Fabian, Laura willed herself not to appear flustered by the news. The incident at lunch had made her even more wary of the man than she’d been initially, and she wished she could just erase it from her memory. Yet, perversely, she’d also experienced frustration at not having a chance to ask him more about the concert.

Their little exchange about life and planning had prompted her curiosity about how he personally viewed such things. Was the anniversary concert something that was set in stone as far as Fabian and his family were concerned? Did he ever find the responsibility of hosting such an event year in, year out, somewhat daunting—onerous, even?

Still she grappled with the idea of sharing an office with him …

‘Then have a good evening, and enjoy the dinner that Maria is preparing for you,’ he said now, the faintest suggestion of a smile touching his lips. ‘My housekeeper is an exceptional cook, and she makes the best lasagne in Italy! Ciao!’

‘Ciao …’

The next moment he was gone, leaving just a faint impression of sandalwood and spice hovering in the air, and the slam of another door outside somewhere indicated he was on his way out to his car. Was he visiting Aurelia at her villa, perhaps?

Impatient that such an irrelevant consideration should hijack her thoughts, Laura leant back in her chair behind a desk that screamed to be tidied and ran the flat of her palm over her hair. Shaking the soft fall of golden butter-coloured strands loose from its confining band, she sighed at the release of tension that flowed out of her neck and shoulders, as if a small trapped inlet that had been shut off by a boulder could now flow freely.

The delicious lasagne eaten, and most of the other staff and work teams who had inhabited the building and grounds all day now gone—along with the orchestra and the opera company—Laura found the huge gracious house had become blissfully quiet again. But, although relative silence prevailed, inside Laura’s head all she could hear were echoes of the amazing music that her ears had been treated to throughout the day. She realised that despite everything she was feeling happier than she’d been in ages. She’d made contact at last with a friend she’d very much missed, and had been given this marvellous opportunity to work in an environment that was about as idyllic as she could imagine. Surely it was a sign that life in general was improving vastly?

Humming to herself, she inserted the final invitation to an after-concert supper party into its gilt-edged envelope—this was an event that Fabian was throwing for some local dignitaries—and put it with the others, before tackling the chaos on her desk. That accomplished, she went to kneel on the floor to check through the two boxes of glassware that lay there unopened, wincing slightly as a familiar ache throbbed through her thigh. But the heady scent from the climbing wisteria outside the window, perfuming the tranquil night air, immediately distracted her, and the tune that Laura had been contentedly humming turned into a fully-fledged song.

As Fabian walked into the softly lit marble-floored hallway of the villa all the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. The voice he could hear singing was so delightful, so exquisitely pure, that he just stood where he was listening, hardly daring to even breathe. Who was this angel? He had never heard her sing before, of that he was certain. Such a voice one would not soon forget! Perhaps she was a younger, more recently recruited member of the company?

As the last notes of the song clung, quivering, to the hushed atmosphere of the night, Fabian let out his breath and moved his head in mute astonishment. He simply had to meet her!

Following the direction whence the voice had come, he walked down the wide, gleaming corridor of closed doors. Everything was absolutely still, with no indication of anyone else’s presence. Knocking at each door before he entered a particular room, he called out, ‘Ciao? C’e nessuno li?’ Is there anybody there? But every room he visited was empty of any other human being but him.

Had he imagined what he’d just heard? Ridiculous! Clearly one of the company was rehearsing somewhere in private and he had unwittingly disturbed them. He would make it his mission to find them, offer his sincere apologies then introduce himself.

A few minutes later Fabian went still as a statue as the exquisite voice he had heard sounded on the air again. He made his way to the office that Laura was now occupying instead of Carmela. There was a tension inside him that seemed to build with every step. Entering the room, he saw his temporary assistant with her back to him, straightening some files on a bookshelf. He saw she had dispensed with her shoes and her feet were bare, and her previously bound hair fell softly around her shoulders. But most of all he realised that the amazing voice that he was hearing belonged to her.

A sense of shock interwoven with pleasure electrified Fabian’s spine. He said nothing—he fully intended to let her finish the song before addressing her—but all of a sudden she stopped, turned round, and gazed at him with a slightly stunned expression.

‘Oh!’

‘Your voice is exquisite … I had no idea.’

‘I hope I didn’t disturb you? I was just enjoying being here in your beautiful house, and I let my happiness and pleasure spill over. I always sing when I’m happy.’

‘Do not apologise. That is a remarkable talent you have, Laura. Carmela never mentioned that you could sing.’

‘I last saw her about ten years ago. Although we kept in touch we never really talked about things like that. Besides … it’s just something I do to amuse myself these days. Nothing more.’

Her hand slid over her cheekbone and he glimpsed a silver earring with a small pale blue stone shimmering on her lobe as she tucked her hair behind her ear. Fabian could hardly believe she was so dismissive of a talent that other people would trade their life savings for.

‘Why is that?’ he asked immediately. ‘With the right people to guide you, you could have an impressive career. I have been around singers, musicians, artists all my life … I do not say this lightly.’

‘But I don’t want an impressive career! What I want is to be able to teach music to children, like I was doing before. I would do it for nothing if I could afford to!’

Stunned by such an unexpected and passionate response, Fabian lifted his brows in surprise. It was no exaggeration to say that people these days seemed to idolise fame and fortune, and yet this slender reed of a girl—although she clearly had talent in abundance—appeared to scorn it in preference to teaching children! He hadn’t felt so taken aback or intrigued by someone in a very long time. Certainly his ex-wife would never have displayed such altruism or heartfelt generosity. Just the opposite, in fact!

But Fabian didn’t want to think about the avaricious and deceitful Domenica. Right now it was this woman who had all his attention.

‘If you would do what you love to do for nothing that is an admirable quality indeed … if a little naïve. You do realise you could very quickly become quite wealthy with a voice like yours, Laura? You would never have to worry about money again.’

‘I told you.’ Moving across the room, she bent down to collect her discarded sandals, and after sliding her small elegant feet inside the soft brown leather she straightened and rested her gaze directly on Fabian. ‘I’m not interested in a career as a singer. I had that dream a long time ago, when I was young, but I’ve since found something I feel far more passionate about. It may never make me rich, but then wealth doesn’t have the fascination for me that it does for some people. Not everyone is so enthralled by the idea of it!’ She bit her lip in sudden anxiety. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean any offence.’ ‘None taken.’

‘My needs are simple … that’s all I meant. I think I’ll say goodnight now, if you don’t mind? I want to make an earlier start tomorrow.’

‘You have already worked a long day. There is no need to make an earlier start than normal.’

‘If you say so.’

‘What about the man in your life? Surely he would want you to make the most of your exceptional talents?’

Fabian was fishing unashamedly, and for a moment Laura appeared dazed by his question.

‘I’m a single woman. There is no man in my life apart from my father.’

‘Even so … surely he must—?’

‘He only wants whatever makes me happy.’

Her small chin came up, and her pale eyes signalled such defiance that Fabian glimpsed unexpected steel in her character that warned him this was as far as he should go right now.

Unable to think of any other reason to keep her there right then, he slid his hand into his trouser pocket and briefly inclined his head. ‘Then I will see you in the morning, Laura. Sleep well.’ ‘And you.’

Her moonlit gaze withdrew, and she slipped past him like the brush of silk against bare skin—the air she left behind intoxicatingly and beguilingly scented with a perfume that was both sultry and innocent at the same time. For a long time after Fabian’s feet claimed the same spot on the carpet, as though welded there …

‘The lanterns need to be arranged in the trees on either side of the road, so that the drive is clearly lit when people arrive.’

In the middle of explaining some of the external decorating requirements in an earnest blend of English and Italian to the two cheerful and willing workmen standing in the office with her, Laura gave only a perfunctory glance at her boss as he came in through the door, bringing his cup of coffee with him. From today, she was in his domain, and she had never before set foot in such a plush, richly decorated office.

It was nearly twice the size of Carmela’s and—along with the crystal chandelier that hung suspended from the cathedral-like ceiling—it was full of the most exquisite art and objets d’art. Earlier, the same workmen who were with her now had moved her desk and computer to the opposite side of the palatial room from Fabian, and another young man had appeared to connect everything up again. Sunlight streamed in through the enormous windows as though it were worshipping at a shrine.

She couldn’t deny her stomach had flooded with butterflies at the idea that they would be working together so closely. And she couldn’t help but recall what had happened last night when Fabian had discovered her singing. She’d been taken aback by the compliments he had paid her on her voice, and the suggestion that she could have a lucrative career out of it, but it had done nothing to change Laura’s mind about the career she desperately wanted to resume … that of working with children. Her singing had been a spontaneous, unplanned event, brought about by a contentment she had not experienced in a long time, and she had not sought or expected an audience, much less acknowledgement!

‘Buongiorno!’

He included everyone in the convivial greeting as he went to his desk and set down his coffee cup, nonetheless Fabian’s glance came to rest specifically on Laura. It was a feat quite beyond her to glance away from the ocean of achingly vivid blue that blazed back at her.

‘You slept well?’ he asked her.

‘Fine, thank you … You?’

‘Like a bambino!’

His lips broke into the most boyish and captivating grin Laura had ever seen. The sun pouring in through the huge windows behind him illuminated him in a dazzling aura of gold. She knew she was staring, but she would defy anyone—man, woman or child—not to do the same.

‘Really?’ she murmured.

‘Last night I heard an angel singing.’ The expression on Fabian’s face was deliberately provocative, and it made Laura’s skin heat and her heart race. It seemed to suggest that they shared a secret … a secret that placed her in his power somehow. ‘Yes … I went to sleep with the sound of her exquisite voice lingering tantalisingly in my ears … bella!’He kissed his fingers in an extravagant gesture and his smile grew even wider.

The two workmen grinned hugely at this, nodding in vicarious appreciation. Meanwhile, Laura’s whole body was trembling so hard she felt sure everyone must see it.

‘Yesterday the house was full of so much beautiful music.’ Forcing herself to smile nonchalantly, she returned her attention to the waiting workmen, because it was far safer than allowing herself to be caught up in the dangerous spell that Fabian seemed to cast so easily. Striving to maintain an even, slightly authoritative tone in her voice, she crossed her arms in front of her chest. ‘Now, you know what’s to be done? The lanterns are all ready and waiting in the storeroom. They arrived yesterday, and I’ve checked that we received the right number. When the job is completed I’ll come and have a look. Grazie.’ ‘Si, signorina.’

The room fell silent again after the workmen’s departure, and Fabian dropped thoughtfully down into his seat. Running his critical gaze over his assistant’s porcelain skin and willowy form, he noted that she was looking almost as pale as the marble of one of Michelangelo’s sculptures this morning. Had his teasing upset her? Hearing her sing was the first thing he had thought about that morning on waking, and he had been thinking about it ever since.

‘Why didn’t you join me for breakfast?’ he asked.

‘Maria very kindly brought some coffee and fruit to my room.’

‘Coffee and fruit? Are you trying to starve yourself? No wonder you are so slender!’

‘I assure you there is nothing wrong with my appetite, Signor Moritzzoni! I enjoy my food just like anyone else! This just happens to be my natural build.’

‘No doubt many women would envy you.’