Page 90 of Sunrise over Strawberry Hill Farm

Nico turned around slowly and locked eyes with Flora. Of course his father was going to run true to form and focus on the beautiful woman rather than on his son whom he hadn’t seen all summer.

‘This is Flora Barton,’ he said in a dull tone. ‘She owns the farm. And this is my friend Tyson.’

Paolo gave the teenager a curt nod, but Flora had the full works, from the wide winning smile to taking her hand and brushing his lips across her skin.

Nico was ready to explode. However, he kept his temper in check, because Flora was there. And Tyson too.

‘Nice to meet you,’ she murmured.

She flicked a concerned glance at Nico, but he kept his face as a mask of neutrality. The last woman who had stolen his heart had ended up in his father’s bed. He knew that would never happen with Flora. He trusted her, body and soul. It was his own father that he didn’t trust.

‘Can I offer you a drink?’ she asked.

Paolo was about to rave about how generous she was and of course he wanted a drink, but Nico cut him off.

‘Perhaps after we’ve caught up,’ he said, taking his father’s arm and beginning to lead him away. ‘It’s been so long, Papa. Excuse us. We’ll see you in a while.’

Paolo must have been trying to get on his better side because there were no protestations about being led away from the beautiful woman. Instead, he walked alongside Nico as they went across the courtyard and up towards the gate into the strawberry field.

‘It’s quite an operation they’ve got going on here,’ said Paolo, reverting back to Italian. He looked at the camping field beyond, as well as the number of people picking strawberries in the field in front of them.

Nico leant against the gate and kept quiet. He thought he knew why his father was there, but the child deep inside of him was still hoping that he might just want to catch up with his only son.

‘And this is where you’ve been all this time? Since you left?’ asked Paolo, with raised eyebrows.

Nico turned to look at him. ‘Yes. Why would that surprise you? I grew up on a vineyard. A farm isn’t that much of a difference.’ He hesitated before asking, ‘How did you find me?’

Paolo gave a grunt of ill humour. ‘It took some time,’ he said, his eyes growing narrow. ‘You should have left me a note.’

Nico gave a shrug of his shoulders. ‘Why? You didn’t give me any warning when you sold the vineyard out from under my feet.’

‘I told you why I needed to do that,’ snapped Paolo.

‘Yes, I remember,’ drawled Nico. ‘It was to invest in the next big thing.’

Paolo nodded. ‘Yes, it was.’

Nico sighed heavily. ‘So what was it this time? A woman? A rare antique?’

His father hesitated. ‘Listen, son, life is complicated. Can’t you trust me to do the right thing with the money from the vineyard?’

Nico turned away to gaze out over the field instead. Trust had been broken a long time ago.

‘You know that I would’ve been there when you were growing up if my career hadn’t had to come first,’ he heard Paolo say.

‘Rubbish.’ Nico spun to look at his father. ‘It’s always about you.’

Paolo sighed. ‘I can’t change the past. But let me make it up to you.’

Nico shook his head. ‘I don’t need anything from you. Not any more. You lost that chance a long time ago.’

‘We’re the same, you and I,’ Paolo told him.

‘We share a surname,’ said Nico. ‘We’re vastly different in every other aspect. In how we treat people.’

‘You’re not so well behaved yourself,’ said Paolo, with a scowl. ‘I remember all those girlfriends you had.’

‘That was years ago, Dad,’ Nico reminded him. ‘A lifetime ago. These days, I treat people better.’