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Luigi greeted them at the door with an obsequious bow, which only added to his ill temper. No matter how many times he told the maître d’, ‘No ceremony, Luigi, please—’ it fell on deaf ears. But this was the best restaurant in Rome, where he kept a business account for occasions such as this, so he just had to grit his teeth and get over it.
Naturally they were shown to the best table in the room. Only Kate’s natural dignity made up for her lack of dress sense. The restaurant was packed with every beautiful face in Rome, half of whom he was forced to acknowledge on his way to their table. In a strange sort of way the proud tilt of Kate’s head pleased him as she subjected herself to the unforgiving scrutiny of the glitterati, but that didn’t mean he was taken in by her little charade. She could play Miss Butter-wouldn’t-melt all she liked; he wasn’t buying it.
He settled back as each of them was handed a giant-sized leather-bound menu. ‘Do you have a preference for wine?’ he asked her as the sommelier approached. He glanced up when she remained silent and saw her anxious gaze darting about. She looked as if she was ready to bolt. The light thrown down by the chandeliers was cruel and revealed dark shadows beneath her eyes. She seemed strung out as if something big was worrying her. Maybe she would crack a lot sooner than he’d thought.
‘A preference?’ she said, refocusing on him.
Her eyes were beautiful and he felt a tug somewhere deep inside him when she looked at him that way. Filing it away for future consideration, he concentrated on the wine list. ‘Do you prefer red or white wine?’
‘Santino …’
‘Yes?’ He looked up, surprised at the discreet, even confidential tone of her voice. ‘What is it?’ He leaned across the table anticipating a full meltdown. His eyes filled with lazy certainty as he waited for her reply. He anticipated a suggestion they order room service instead of eating in the restaurant—the same room service he’d given her five years ago. He waved the waiters and the sommelier away.
‘I don’t like it here,’ she told him bluntly.
‘That’s it?’ He sat back frowning.
‘I feel uncomfortable. I’d like to go somewhere else.’
He had to admit that where sheer, unadulterated front was concerned Kate took the prize. He had brought her to the best place in Rome, the most glamorous place in Rome. As a rule it was necessary to book six months in advance, and then if Luigi didn’t recognise you you were lucky to get a table near the kitchen. What was wrong with her? He was tempted to tell her just how uncomfortable she looked in her ill-fitting suit. ‘What do you expect me to do about it?’
‘Take me somewhere else.’ She held his gaze.
‘Like where, for instance?’ He gave her one last chance to redeem herself with a little softening of those steel-grey eyes.
‘Somewhere traditional and typical of the area …’
Her expression was disappointingly earnest. ‘This is typical of the area,’ he pointed out in an ironic reminder that she was staying in the best part of Rome.
‘You know what I mean,’ she insisted stubbornly. ’Somewhere … Oh, I don’t know … where mamma cooks and papà serves—’
‘How sweet.’ He could barely stop his lip from curling.
‘There’s no need to be sarcastic.’ She gave a nervous laugh to soften the remark. ‘I thought this was a business meeting, not a—’
As her mouth clamped shut he raised his eyebrows, daring her to say date, but she fell silent. Looking down, she licked the full swell of her bottom lip. He wondered if she knew how provocative that was.
Probably not. She was as much a dreamer as her cousin Cordelia, though Kate suppressed her desires under countless onionskins of denial. But why play games when she wanted him? Forget the swollen lips. Raised nipples and flushed cheeks told him all he needed to know. And he wanted her. They were two healthy adults with healthy adult appetites, so what was standing in her way?
‘I know it sounds ridiculous …’
Wisely, he didn’t comment.
She shrugged her shoulders. ‘But I have this urge to eat home-made food.’ Urges he understood.
‘And to be truthful,’ she went on, ‘I don’t feel it’s wise to discuss Caddy’s private affairs with waiters hovering at my shoulder. You never know who’s listening. The paparazzi have spies everywhere and somewhere noisier and less formal would be safer, in my opinion.’
She talked sense.
‘When I flew into Rome I thought I might get the chance to sample some real Italian food,’ she went on. ‘And this menu … not that I’m not grateful,’ she tempered politely, ‘is all in French.’
‘I see what you mean …’ Playing along, he scanned his copy as if he hadn’t eaten in the restaurant a thousand times before.
‘What do you think?’ she pressed.
‘I think I know a better place …’
Santino dismissed the chauffeur and took Kate to a place she would never have found without him. It was at the end of a narrow alleyway, and was the sort of noisy café Aunt Meredith had talked about whenever she and Caddy had pressed her for stories from her back-packing youth.
Pushing open a narrow door with no sign over the top of it to hint at what lay behind, Santino invited Kate to go in ahead of him. The noise, heat and aroma of wonderful food hit her full in the face. The small packed space was crammed with tables covered in red gingham tablecloths, and the only light was that provided by candles flickering in wax-caked bottles. Kate started smiling right away. She could hear ‘mamma’ shouting instructions from the kitchen, while the red-faced ‘papà’ with a tea towel stuck through the ties of his white apron was yelling back to her above the buzz of conversation. Right now their moustachioed host was in the middle of executing an elaborate pirouette as he searched for the correct table upon which to unload the plates and platters wobbling on his outstretched arms.
‘I love it,’ Kate exclaimed impulsively, ‘but can they possibly find space for us?’
The answer came quickly. Having spotted Santino, the chubby restaurateur wiped his hands down the front of his apron and came to welcome them.
‘Santino!’ Dragging Santino down to his own, much shorter level, the older man kissed him robustly on both cheeks. ‘Li vedo portare un ospite!’ he added, pulling back to stare at Kate.
‘I see you have brought a visitor.’ Santino translated for her briskly. ‘For a business meeting,’ he informed the older man in English, causing the restaurateur to view Kate speculatively.
‘Of course … Capisco! I understand,’ he cried, instantly adopting a serious expression. ‘I hope you’re hungry?’ he added out of the corner of his mouth for Kate’s benefit.
‘Starving,’ she assured him with a smile.
‘Bene … bene!’ Rubbing his hands together in anticipation of another hungry customer, their host gazed around until he identified a group about to vacate their table. ‘Two minutes, and the table’s yours,’ he promised Santino with an open-armed flourish.
‘Is this all right for you?’
As Santino checked with her Kate thought both his eyes and his voice were daring her to say no. ‘This is perfect,’ she assured him. ‘And once again I apologise for putting you to so much trouble.’
‘Please …’
His manner both thrilled and frightened her. As he gave a shrug the inflection in his voice was pure charm, but his eyes were dangerous … there was far too much irony in them.
‘You’ll have to lose that jacket or melt,’ he observed as he shrugged his off. ‘Your choice.’
After a moment’s hesitation Kate removed her jacket, and then, because Santino was right about the heat, she opened a couple of buttons at the neck of her shirt too.
They were soon seated in the corner with a mound of fresh crusty bread between them and a bowl of fat green olives slicked with oil. Santino had rolled up his sleeves and the sight of his powerful forearms tanned and shaded with black hair just as Kate remembered them was a worrying distraction. She had to get started on her concerns for Caddy right away and find something safer to think about, she decided.
‘That all sounds perfectly reasonable,’ Santino agreed after they had discussed everything in detail and agreed safety measures be put in place to prevent anything from upsetting Caddy in the future.
But when the business discussion was over and Kate ran out of things to say she knew it was dangerous to attempt small talk. Who knew where it might lead?
‘We can move on to another place,’ he suggested after one protracted silence.
Where did he have in mind? There was an air of innocence about him that put Kate immediately on her guard and Santino’s eyes were asking questions she didn’t want to answer.
Her heart bounced against her chest wall as she considered the possibilities. She should have taken into account the fact that she would be pressed up hard against him in the tiny restaurant. She should have realised they would have to bring their faces very close together in order to hear each other above the noise. ‘I’m happy to stay,’ she said quickly, sitting back. ‘It was a brilliant suggestion. The food is delicious—’
Santino accepted what she said with a faintly ironic smile.
CHAPTER FIVE
THEY sipped vintage cognac with their coffee, warming the honey-coloured liquid in giant-sized glasses they held cupped in their hands. The conversation was flowing more easily now, and Santino confined it strictly to business, for which Kate was relieved. She felt relaxed in his company, which was a first. Until her phone rang …
Glancing at the incoming number, Kate blenched. ‘Do you mind if I take this outside?’ She was already on her feet.
‘No …’ Santino’s eyes narrowed as she left the table.
After the heat of the café the cool night air was a sharp reminder to Kate of the world she had left behind. ‘Meredith?’ she said anxiously. ‘Is everything all right?’
Aunt Meredith was quick to reassure her that this was just a routine call. She sounded far more concerned about Kate.
‘I’m fine!’ Kate immediately regretted the force of her claim. She suspected Caddy must have said something to Meredith and Kate knew from experience that Aunt Meredith wasn’t easy to fool. ‘Everything’s going really well …’ But by the time the call was finished Kate knew she hadn’t convinced Meredith, who knew her better than her own mother had ever done.
‘Sorry about that,’ Kate said as she joined Santino at the table. She felt a flutter of concern when she noticed that her coffee-cup had been refilled. It appeared as if Santino was in no hurry to bring the evening to a close.
‘Not a problem for me … And not a problem for you, I hope?’ His gaze was keen as he searched her face.
‘No.’ Kate laughed it off, but inside she was aching with guilty secrets. There were too many of them locked inside her, of which her daughter was just one. And now here she was, sitting with Francesca’s father. It seemed incredible, and it frightened Kate to think that Santino didn’t even know of Francesca’s existence.
And nor could he until she was sure of him.
‘You seemed concerned when you identified the number,’ he probed casually.
He wasn’t going to let it go, Kate realised. ‘It was Aunt Meredith, Caddy’s mother, ringing to check that everything is all right. You can understand her concerns for Caddy…’
She could tell Santino wasn’t convinced by her glib excuses. She had set alarm bells ringing, which was the last thing she had wanted to do. ’So …?’ To avoid looking at him she began gathering her things together, hoping that Santino would take the hint and suggest the time had come for them to leave.
‘So …’ He mimicked her ironically, viewing her over the rim of his coffee-cup as if they were hours away from bringing the evening to a close. ‘Why don’t you tell me something about yourself, Kate?’
Kate was sure her heart stopped beating. ‘Like what?’
Such as why she was doing a good impression of a hedgehog curling into a defensive ball might be a start, Santino reflected. ‘How you first came to be interested in the film industry?’ He was prepared to take everything one step at a time if that was what it took. They had covered Kate’s concerns for Caddy and they had established that the connection between them was as strong as ever. Now it was time for the interview for the position he had in mind.
‘Working in the film industry wasn’t my idea to begin with,’ she admitted. ‘It was Meredith’s—’
‘Meredith’s? What did your parents think of that?’
He could see her thought processes clicking into the appropriate grooves. She was deciding whether or not to trust him with some small detail from her life … weighing up whether it would be worth it to distract him from some bigger issues, perhaps?
‘They were never part of the equation.’
‘I see …’ He didn’t, of course, but he didn’t want to knock her off track. She made it easy for him when she began speaking again without prompting.
‘I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do when I left school and Meredith had contacts in the film industry. She gave me the introduction I needed, and I thought, Why not? I wasn’t too keen at first, but I grew into it.’
As her face lit up he suggested, ‘And came to love it in the end?’
‘That’s right.’ She looked at him as if she hadn’t thought he would be interested in what she found good about her life, but his tactic had always been to find out what people wanted and then to give it to them. It was so simple he found it hard to understand why everyone hadn’t found the same route to success. ‘From what I’ve seen there’s no doubt you have a way with people …’ He dealt her the compliment that he knew would boost her confidence, bringing him another step closer to his goal.
‘Thank you.’
Her eyes softened to a misty grey as she looked at him and he could tell that his words were having the desired effect.
They were both trying to fathom out what each of them wanted from the other. But now something else had crept into her eyes … was it wariness, or something more? If he hadn’t known better he might have thought it a sign that he had hurt her in some way. But he had never left a string of broken hearts in his wake. He only ever dealt in adult relationships with women who knew their own mind, women just like Kate.
To reassure himself he took his mind back to the night when she had raked him with her fingernails and begged him not to stop, never to stop. It was hard for a man to forget a thing like that, impossible for him to forget a woman like Kate, unthinkable that he would let her get away a second time. ‘I’d like to make you an offer …’
When she looked at him keenly he knew the moment had come to close the deal. ‘I’d like you to stay on here in Rome and work for me.’
‘Work for you?’ She was clearly incredulous.
‘What’s wrong with that?’ He was growing impatient. No one had ever refused the offer of a job in his organisation.
‘I can’t, that’s all—’
‘You can’t?’ he cut across her. ‘Or you won’t?’
‘I’m sorry, Santino, I really can’t … Couldn’t you get someone else?’
‘I want you.’ His jaw firmed.
‘You …’
Even as the light of hope sparked in her eyes her voice faded in recognition of her mistake. She knew Santino Rossi would never want her the way she wanted him. He felt a rush of triumph as he interpreted the signs. Kate was a good actress, but not that good. She might act prim, but there were fires burning very close to the surface of this new Kate Mulhoon’s decorous manner.
‘I’m only offering you a job, Kate …’
She flinched at the put-down, but quickly recovered.
‘I already have a job … two jobs, in fact. I represent Caddy at the agency, and for the time being at least I’m her manager. Obviously there’s a conflict of interest and I won’t—’
‘Remain her manager? Stay at the agency? Well, now you won’t have to because I’m offering you a job.’
‘Look, all of this is so sudden …’
And the last thing she wanted was to antagonise him with a flat refusal, he guessed. He let her squirm for a while.
‘I don’t know what to say,’ she said at last, clearly thrown.
‘You don’t have to say anything right away. Think about it. You’ve got until tomorrow morning to decide.’ He liked deadlines. When he put one in place something had to happen. Inactivity killed him.
‘Why me, Santino?’ She looked at him curiously.
Because the window of opportunity was open and he had never been one to walk on by. ‘Because after this debacle on the set I know I need to hire someone who understands the business, someone who works well with my team, which you’ve already proved you can do, someone who can liaise between me and my people on the ground. It would be a vast improvement on your present position back in London. You’d have your own department. You’d report directly to me—’
‘This is all going way too fast—’
