The Count's Prize (5 page)

D
ARIO
didn’t look back. He rode fast, straight back to the stables. There he leapt off his horse and let the stallion find his own way to the nearest stable lad. Dario’s favourite refuge in times of crisis was his art. Striding straight for his studio in the
castello
grounds, he went in and slammed the door. Leaning back heavily against it, he tried to think. Since Arietta died, he had roamed from woman to woman, picking, choosing, but never staying with anyone for long. To do anything else was unthinkable. He always slipped away before emotion could coil him in its oily grasp. Other people might envy him, but they only saw his free and easy attitude. Casual charm was his mask of choice.

Until now, he had never cared what other people thought. He had gone out each day with a smile on his face, and that was enough to reassure most people that he was happy. Now the sunlight had shone into more than that secluded glade. It had thrown back the shadows from the most private place inside him. It was somewhere so dark, not even Dario was aware of how deep its secrets went. All he knew was that this morning
he had let his nonchalant shield slip. So what was different about today?

Dr Josie Street
, he thought.

Their kisses had torn away everything; he’d been captured by the simple pleasure of that moment, of that woman, in a way he hadn’t experienced in years. Raw, naked lust had risen up, overwhelming all his finer feelings and making him almost lose control. Shame burnt through him—for a moment he’d forgotten Arietta.

When Josie had stormed away after their spectacular kiss, Dario had found himself unable to follow her. Instead, he had let out a stream of curses. He had enjoyed many women since losing Arietta, so what had happened today to make him say
her
name out loud?

Maybe it was because Josie was so different from all those other women. She had something they lacked. For a start, she might appear composed and serious, but he sensed that deeper down there was a core of fire. The women who usually competed for his attention never hid their passion. They tried to use it as bait. Josie fought to hide hers every inch of the way.

In that respect we’re alike
, he thought with a jolt of recognition. Most of the time she coped by staying silent, but that would never work on him again—not after he had felt the heat of her response and the passion of her kisses. Those few incendiary moments had unleashed the tigress in her, but instinctively Dario knew that if he casually took advantage of her awakened passion then Josie would never forgive herself. Or him.

There was another reason why he held back, too. Time had dimmed Arietta’s memory but, for some reason,
it had burst back into life when he’d responded to Josie. She attracted him in a way that no other woman had since Arietta, but he had no desire to go through that much pain again. And he suspected that if he pursued Josie, that was exactly what would happen.

For the rest of the day, Josie could think of nothing but Dario’s kiss and the feel of his body. As she worked her way around the grounds of the Castello Sirena, her senses were tuned to detect him. Every moment she spent practising her Italian with the farm workers and villagers, she was secretly wondering about Dario—where he was and what he was doing.

Later, when she retreated to her room to write up her notes, she finally found out. As the shadows lengthened, the growl of a high-performance engine passed beneath her window. Looking out, she saw a beautiful royal-blue sports car accelerate away down the lime avenue.

That told her Dario’s take on their encounter was very different from her own.

He must have put her out of his mind already. He was going back out on the town.

The next few days were a horrible mixture of routine and denial for Josie. Her mind kept telling her to forget about Dario. Her body had different ideas. Each time she thought of him, her pulse ran riot. She coped in the only way she knew how, by drawing up a punishing schedule of surveying and study for every day of her projected stay. She ticked tasks off that ‘to do’ list like a metronome. Every evening she fell into her
dreamily comfortable bed, satisfied with what she had achieved. It was a routine that had got her top marks for as long as she could remember. It also shielded her bruised heart and kept a tight lid on her newly discovered libido. But soon her emotions fought against being confined any longer. The moment she closed her eyes, images of Dario filled her mind. The sound of his sports car roaring away as he set off on another night of pleasure made her pictures of him still more vivid. She could almost feel his hands around her waist, his cheek brushing her hair and his long, lingering kisses setting her senses on fire all over again …

She tried to tell herself he was a distraction she couldn’t afford. That might have worked for her after Andy left, but it sure as hell didn’t work with Dario.

Although their paths had somehow stopped crossing after their encounter in the wood, Josie wanted Dario to know it was because she was working, and not just hiding away from him. Whenever she was out on the estate she tried to forget him, but spent half her time looking over her shoulder. She was as wary as a gazelle on the African plains, on the alert for the lion that might pounce at any time.

As time went on and he didn’t appear, she began to settle back into her normal routine, managing, for the most part, to push her frustrated desires back into hiding—and then one evening Dario rode out of the sunset while she was busy brushing the fine, dry soil away from her latest find. From being lost in her thoughts, Josie was thrown into confusion. With desperate movements
she stood up, shoving her hair behind her ears and brushing the worst of the dust from the legs of her overalls. Then she rubbed her sleeve over her brow, before realising it was as grimy as her knees had been. Desperately she grabbed the towel from the table where she washed her finds. Without a mirror, she had to hope it made any smudges better and not worse. Trying to look absorbed in her work for the agonising minutes it took him to ride up to her was impossible. It was only when she stopped trying that he smiled.

‘Dario,’ she greeted him quietly.

‘Josie,’ he replied in kind as he jumped down from his horse.

Despite her apprehension, she couldn’t help checking his saddle for another picnic basket. There wasn’t one.

‘I wondered what you were doing here,’ she said to cover her embarrassment when he noticed what she was looking at.

‘I live here, remember?’

‘When you aren’t roaring around the countryside by night,’ she said before she could stop herself.

He raised his eyebrows, strolling past her to investigate her finds table. ‘You noticed?’

‘I can’t help it … er … because the sound of your engine disturbs my work every night, that is.’

‘But your suite is always in darkness,’ he said casually, picking up one of her site sketches. ‘I’m here to deliver a message, by the way. I thought you’d like to know that Antonia rang—she’s coming home tomorrow. Hmm … I like this drawing. It’s artistic as well as being accurate. You’re clearly a woman of many talents.’

Josie tried not to feel smug, but it didn’t work. In the face of his obvious appreciation, she felt horribly tongue-tied.

‘You learn to be a jack of all trades in this job,’ she muttered. ‘Art used to be a bit of a hobby of mine. Not that I ever get a chance to do anything about it these days, apart from site sketches,’ she said wistfully.

He made a disapproving noise. ‘Have you ever thought of working some of these drawings up into full-sized paintings? They would add something unique to your coursework.’

‘It’s tempting …’ she said, stealing a long look at his beautiful profile as he studied her work, ‘.but there’s no point. Effort like that would be wasted on the academics who read my stuff.’

‘Come on, Josie—don’t be so defeatist! You’re a highly qualified woman with a lot of talent, both inside and outside of your usual sphere. Why be content with such a small market for your skills?’

‘You sound very sure of yourself. Who’s to say anybody else would share your opinion?’

‘I’ve studied art for long enough to know good work when I see it—you should have more confidence in yourself!’

His voice tailed off, as though he’d just heard his own enthusiasm. Josie glanced at him, but he looked away at almost the same instant. She almost caught herself smiling. According to Antonia, her brother Dario was a famous seducer but, standing in front of her now, he looked completely lost for words.

His uncomfortable silence didn’t last long; he seemed
to gather himself and carried on in a more practical manner. ‘With artistic talent like this, you could draw in a much wider audience. Quality artwork would attract people who wouldn’t normally think of picking up an archaeology textbook. Me, for one.’

Josie chewed her lip. ‘Do you really think so?’

‘Definitely. I’m certain others would think that way, too.’

He sounded genuine, and smiled to drive the point straight into her heart. The memory of their eventful picnic made Josie break eye contact and move away from him. She started to tap a pile of already tidy papers into a meticulously rectangular block.

‘Oh, I don’t know. I don’t have the time, or the equipment …’

‘You should
make
time. It counts as work, so you wouldn’t have to feel it’s being wasted,’ Dario said in a voice that gave her no option. ‘And, as for equipment, that’s no excuse either. I keep a well-stocked studio. Anything you want, you can get from me. In a purely artistic sense, of course,’ he added hurriedly, seeing her frown.

‘It’s very kind, Dario, but I really can’t spare the time …’

She looked over towards the Roman hearth she was uncovering, stone by stone. It was long, knee-numbing stuff.

He dropped his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. ‘Come on … you know you want to! That floor has waited two thousand years for you to come along with your trowel and brush. Light and landscape is something
that must be captured when it happens, and while it lasts. Like happiness, and laughter,’ he added.

When she smiled, he suddenly reached out to her. She flinched, and his fingers stopped short of making contact with her cheek. She took a step back, leaving his hand to fall back to his side.

‘I can see you’ve fully recovered from … the heat,’ he said with a brittle smile. ‘In which case, as I’ve done what I came to do, I’ll leave you to your work. Goodbye, Josie, but don’t forget what I said. Capture the moment. If you wait too long, it will slip through your fingers. And you’ll always regret missing out.’

‘You sound very sure about that!’ She chuckled, but all signs of amusement had vanished from his expression.

‘I am. Life can deal anyone a bad hand, Josie. Work is a great refuge, but you need to keep it in proportion. Look at me—running this estate and making sure I can pass it on to little Fabio in good heart takes up a lot of time, and it used to be that I’d focus only on that—but it’s no way to live.’

‘Fabio? But he’s not your son.’ Josie picked up on the name but then put her hand to her mouth. ‘I’m sorry; it’s none of my business.’

He looked startled, but hid it quickly. ‘You’re so close to Antonia, I assumed you knew all about that already.’

‘We spend most of our time chatting about work,’ Josie said. ‘At least we did, until Fabio came along. We hardly ever talk about our families.’

He shrugged. ‘I simply assumed she would have filled you in.’

‘Dario, I don’t need to be told anything more about you than I know already, unless you’d like me to know something,’ she said, while secretly hoping he would insist on revealing more.

He was silent, seeming to struggle with his thoughts for a moment before the mask came down and, to Josie’s disappointment, he was once again the suave, charming playboy.

‘You’re right. We both have work to do, so I’ll let you get back into your trench,’ he said smoothly, before mounting his horse and cantering quickly back the way he had come.

From then on, Josie couldn’t stop wondering why Dario had made his little nephew his heir. Dario was only a few years older than she was. What made him so sure, so young, that he would never have children of his own? Was it something to do with his mysterious dead fiancée? Josie wasn’t sure she wanted to find out the answer, but his words nagged at her like a puzzle begging to be solved.

She was tortured with curiosity for the rest of the day, but her worst moment came that night as she was drifting off to sleep, when the sound of his high-powered car dragged her awake again. Every night it took him away, leaving her sleepless and alone.

Dario and the memory of his kisses had awoken a need in Josie that would not let her rest. She got out of bed and went over to the window to watch the tail-lights of his car speeding away down the long lime avenue. Dario was heading off towards the city, with all its
temptations and distractions. He had a million friends. His social life was so full he need never be alone, but something about him made Josie think that, secretly, he might be as lonely as she was.

Josie’s curiosity kept her awake until she heard Dario return in the early hours. Her lack of sleep meant she woke up late the next morning, which put her in a foul mood from the beginning. She knew from experience that she would never catch up on the lost time. She was also half-afraid Dario might have taken her words to heart and brought a conquest home to prove a point. She found herself angry for caring so much about it, but she needn’t have worried. The
castello
and its estate were both practically deserted as she walked the half mile to her excavation beside the old olive press. She worked away at uncovering the ancient flagstone hearth until the sun was high in the sky. Then she heard the sound of a car. It was one of the di Sirena limousines, and it sighed to a halt at the junction between the main drive and the drove road.

‘Josie! Look what we’ve got for you!’ a familiar voice called out.

Josie stood up to see her friend Antonia erupting from the car’s back seat and galloping along the track towards her, swinging several paper carrier bags. Plump and pretty, Toni had the enthusiasm of a puppy but was out of breath in seconds. Jumping out of her trench, Josie ran to meet her. Taking the bag, she peered inside.