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Lorenzo's Reward
Lorenzo's Reward
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Lorenzo's Reward

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“I will.” She returned his affectionate hug and kiss with warmth, took the box he gave her, and stowed it carefully in her bag. “Must make a pitstop before I go back. Don’t wait. See you tomorrow, brother-in-law.”

Jess waved Jonah off, then hurried off to the cloakroom, needing to make a few repairs as self-defence before she went in search of Roberto Forli. But no search was necessary. When she returned to the foyer, lips re-touched and hair in place, he was waiting for her. And he had company. Jess’s heart gave a great lurch, missed a couple of beats, then resumed with a force which made her feel giddy. She felt hollow, hardly able to breathe, the blood pounding through her veins at a dizzying rate as she recognised Roberto’s companion.

Like Roberto, he wore a pale linen suit, but his hair was thick and dark, and the unforgettable black eyes held hers with the look Jess had persuaded herself she’d imagined. A faint smile played at the corners of his mouth while she gazed at him mutely, for the first time in her life struck completely dumb.

“Will you not introduce us, Roberto?” said the stranger at last, his voice deep-toned and husky, with a hint of accent which accelerated Jess’s pulse to an alarming degree.

“I will do so at once, before she runs away again.” Roberto, who had been looking from one to the other with narrowed eyes, bowed formally. “Miss Jessamy Dysart, allow me to present my brother, Lorenzo Forli.”

Jess murmured an incoherent greeting, and Lorenzi Forli took her hand and raised it to his lips. Jess disengaged her hand swiftly, and forced her attention back to Roberto. She had met him only once before, when she’d played an unwanted third at dinner in this very hotel the night Leonie had informed Roberto Forli she was marrying another man. Then, they had spent a pleasant hour together after Jonah had arrived to take Leonie home, and Roberto, despite the circumstances, had been charm itself to Jess. Tonight, however, his manner was hostile. Nor did Jess blame him for it.

“I’m glad to see you again, Roberto.” She held out her hand to him. “How are you?”

He took the hand and bowed, unsmiling. “I am well. And you?”

His chill courtesy made it difficult to embark on the apology she was very conscious that he deserved. “I’m fine. I came on an errand for Leo. My sister,” she explained, turning to Lorenzo.

“I am acquainted with the beautiful Leonie,” he informed her. And Leo had never thought fit to mention him?

“How is the bride?” asked Roberto. “Radiant and beautiful as always?”

“Even more so at the moment,” Jess informed him.

Roberto’s eyes flickered for an instant. “Ah, yes. You know I am invited to the wedding?”

“Leo told me. But I was surprised you’d want to come,” she said frankly.

Roberto shrugged his shoulders in the way Jess remembered well from their first meeting. “I was coming to your country at this time for other reasons.”

“Is it a business trip?” asked Jess. “I’ve forgotten what you actually do, I’m afraid.”

“We are involved in hotels,” said Lorenzo, moving closer. “Miss Dysart, please drink a glass of wine with us.”

“I’m sorry, I can’t,” said Jess with deep regret. “I’m driving, I must get back.”

“We saw you with Leonie’s fidanzato.” Roberto informed her, his eyes bright with unexpected malice. “But he left before we could congratulate him.”

“I came to collect some earrings from Jonah,” said Jess. “Leo’s wearing them tomorrow, and he’d forgotten to hand them over.”

“Neither your brother nor your father could do this?”

Jess stiffened at his tone. “They wanted to,” she said shortly. “But I had my reasons for coming myself.”

“Of course you did,” said Roberto with open sarcasm.

“Enough, Roberto,” commanded Lorenzo. “Rejoin the Ravellos. I will escort Miss Dysart to her car.”

Roberto, obviously about to protest, received a quelling look from his brother, and reluctantly acquiesced. He nodded coldly to Jess. “Please give my—my regards to Leonie. Arrivederci!” And before she could embark on her apology he strode off.

“There’s something I must explain to Roberto,” began Jess in a rush, and would have gone after him, but Lorenzo Forli took her arm.

“Leave him.”

“But he’s obviously put out with me—I need to apologise for running away that day in London,” she said, ignoring the fact that Lorenzo Forli’s touch seemed to be scorching through her sleeve.

“Roberto is ‘put out’ as you say, not only because you ran away at the sight of him, but because he believes that you are in love with Leonie’s fidanzato,” he informed her, as he escorted her outside to the car park.

“What?” Jess stared up at him in disbelief.

Lorenzo shrugged. “He is sure that you came here tonight for a few stolen moments before your sister’s lover lost you tomorrow.”

Jess stopped dead, and wrenched her arm away, her eyes blazing as she glared up into the dark, imperious face. “That’s nonsense,” she snapped.

“Is it?” he demanded.

“Of course it is!” Jess looked him in the eye. “Look, Signor Forli, I came here tonight purely to please my sister, and to explain to Roberto why it was impossible to speak to him on Thursday—”

“All of which may be true. But I think Roberto can be forgiven for his mistake.” Lorenzo Forli’s eyes locked with hers. “I also saw you embrace your sister’s lover,” he informed her.

“So did several other people,” she retorted, incensed. “There was nothing furtive about it. I find Roberto’s insinuations deeply offensive. Yours, too, Goodnight, Signor Forli.” Jess stormed off blindly towards the car, in such a tearing hurry she caught one tall, slender heel in a patch of loose gravel and fell heavily on her hands and knees.

Lorenzo raced to pull her to her feet. “Dio—are you hurt?”

“Only my dignity,” she snapped, scarlet to the roots of her hair as she pulled away.

“Take care,” he said sternly, and bent to retrieve the impractical sandal. “You could have broken your ankle. Put your hand on my shoulder and give me your foot, Cenerentola.”

Jess complied unwillingly to let him slide on the offending shoe, then bit her lip when Lorenzo took her by the wrists.

He said something brief in his own tongue as he examined the grazed, bleeding palms. “I will take you inside to cleanse your wounds.”

“No, please,” she protested, in an agony of embarrassment. “I’m fine.”

Lorenzo shook his head firmly. “You cannot drive with hands which bleed. How far is it to your home?”

“Twenty miles or so—”

“Then I shall drive you. Leave your car here.”

“Certainly not,” she snapped, then spread her hands wide suddenly as blood threatened to drip on her jacket.

Lorenzi handed her an immaculate handkerchief. “You cannot control a car in this condition. And if you have an accident it will spoil the day for your sister tomorrow.”

Unexpectedly hurt by his thought for Leonie rather than herself, Jess mopped blood and dirt from her grazed palms without looking at him.

“Come,” he said imperiously. “I will ask the receptionist for dressings.”

Twenty minutes later Lorenzo Forli was driving his mutinous passenger towards Stavely in the car he’d hired for his stay in Britain. “Your hands are still hurting?”

“A little,” she muttered, still hot with embarrassment over the fuss made by the assistant manager, who’d been in the foyer when they went back into the hotel. In short order she’d been presented with plasters and antiseptic, offered brandy, and Roberto had been sent for to explain his brother’s proposed absence. Roberto’s prompt offer to drive Jess to Stavely himself had been summarily dismissed by his brother, and Jess hustled off with only a brief goodnight.

“Perhaps you should have rung Leonie to explain the delay,” said Roberto, as he followed her directions to Stavely.

“No need.” She said stiffly. “Leo won’t be expecting me just yet.”

Jess fixed her eyes on the road, cursing the fate which had actually allowed her a meeting with the charismatic stranger, only to find he believed her capable of lusting after her sister’s bridegroom. Jess seethed in silence while Lorenzo Forli drove smoothly along the winding road which hugged the river. The scene was very peaceful in the fading light. Later the traffic would increase as Saturday night revellers made for home, but at this hour the journey would have been restful in almost any other circumstances. With Lorenzo Forli at the wheel, however, expert driver though he was, Jess felt anything but restful, consumed with a volcanic mixture of resentment and excitement which made it hard for her to sit still in her seat.

“Why did you run away from me that day?” Lorenzo asked abruptly, startling her. “I think you knew very well I wished to meet you. Was the prospect so intolerable?”

She raised her chin disdainfully.

“It was nothing to do with you, Signor Forli. It was Roberto I was running away from. Because of Jeremy Lonsdale.”

“Roberto’s friend, the avvocato?” He frowned, baffled. “I do not understand.”

With resignation Jess once again explained her dilemma as a juror. Lorenzo heard her out, then gave a long smouldering look before returning his attention to the road.

“This does not explain why you refused to speak to me when I rang that night.”

Jess shot him another startled look. “That was you?”

“Did your friend not tell you?” His expressive mouth tightened. “She said you had the migraine. Was that true?”

“No,” said Jess faintly, shaken by the discovery that Lorenzo had rung her on the strength of one fleeting, chance encounter. She cleared her throat. “Emily said it was Signor Forli, so naturally I assumed it was Roberto.” She eyed his aloof profile in appeal. “There was another day to go in court so I still couldn’t speak to him.”

“And if you had known it was I who wished to speak to you? What then?” he demanded, throwing a challenging glance at her.

Jess thought about it for a while. “I’m not sure,” she said at last.

Lorenzo’s jaw set. “I see.”

“I don’t think you do. I mean,” added Jess in desperation, “that if I had known who you were I would have—have liked to speak to you, but I’m still not sure whether I would have been breaking any rules if I had.”

He turned to her with a smile of such blatant triumph it took her breath away. “Ah! That is better. Much better.”

Jess turned away sharply, so floored by her body’s response to the smile she spent the next mile or two in pulling herself together, uncertain whether she was sorry or glad when they reached the turning which led past the church and on up to Friars Wood. In command of herself at last, she gave concise instructions as Lorenzo negotiated the steep bends of the drive, telling him to park in front of the Stables, well away from the main house.

“This is my brother’s private retreat,” Jess told him, wincing as she tried to undo the seat belt.

“Permesso,” said Lorenzo, and leaned across her to release the catch, giving her a close-up of thick black lashes and the type of profile seen on Renaissance sculptures. He turned away to get out of the car, and came round to help her out, taking her elbow very carefully. “I must not hurt your hands. Are they giving you pain?”

“I’m fine,” she assured him, which was a lie. In actual fact, she felt so weirdly different from usual she was relieved when her brother emerged from the stable block to inject a note of normality.

“Hi, Jess,” said Adam, eyeing the stranger with curiosity. “Where’s your car?”

“I left it at the Chesterton,” she explained, and introduced Lorenzo.

“Nice to meet you,” said Adam as he shook hands.

“Piacere,” said Lorenzo Forli, smiling. “Your sister fell and hurt her hands, so I drove her home.”

“How the devil did you manage that, Jess?” demanded Adam. “Don’t tell me,” he added, resigned, noticing her feet. “Life-threatening heels, as usual.”

“I tripped on some gravel,” said Jess tersely. “So you’ll have to drive me back to Pennington after the wedding, to collect my car.”

“No problem,” said Adam cheerfully. “Right then, Jess, bring Lorenzo in to meet the family. I was just going to ask Mother to make me a snack.”

“You are most kind,” said Lorenzo, after a questioning look at Jess’s face. “But I will not intrude on this special night.”

When it became clear that Lorenzo had no immediate intention of getting back in the car, Adam threw his sister a bright, knowing look, said goodnight, and loped off in search of food.

“Thank you for driving me home,” said Jess at last, desperate to break the silence once Adam had gone.

“It was my pleasure.” Lorenzo reached out a hand to touch hers. “Jessamy, I can tell that you are angry.”

“How perceptive,” she snapped, backing away.

“Why?” he asked, advancing on her.

Her head went up. “I would have thought it was obvious. I object to wild accusations about my morals, especially from strangers,” she added coldly.

“Ah!” His eyes held hers relentlessly. “We return to the subject of your sister’s fidanzato. You insist you do not love him?”

“On the contrary, I do,” she assured him airily, gratified when his dark eyes blazed with anger.

“You admit this?” he said incredulously.

“Only to you,” she said sweetly. “They say it’s easier to confide in strangers. So I can share my little secret, Signor Forli.”

“Then Roberto was right,” said Lorenzo grimly. “He suspected this when he first met you. No matter. You will be made to change your mind.” His smile was so arrogant it raised every hackle Jess possessed. “I swore this the first moment I saw you.”

“But you didn’t know who I was.”

He moved closer. “Ah, but I did.”

Jess stared at him wildly. “I don’t understand.”

“You lie, Jessamy.” He held her wrists loosely, one finger on her tell-tale pulse.

“I’m not lying,” she retorted, and pulled her hands away. “So explain. Had you seen me somewhere before?”

“Only in my dreams,” he said, routing her completely. He smiled into her eyes. “But now I’ve met you in the alluring flesh, Jessamy Dysart, you will forget all other men in your life from this day on, including your sister’s husband. I forbid you to gaze at him with longing tomorrow.”

“What? You can’t forbid me to do anything,” she said, incensed, desperate to hide the tumult of delight beneath her outrage. “We’re complete strangers. I don’t know what you think gives you the right to talk to me like this—”

“Why did you cut off your beautiful hair?” he interrupted, changing the subject with an abruptness which knocked her off balance again.

Jess blinked. “Not—not quite all of it.”