Page 4 of Unveiled As The Italian's Bride
‘Great. She’s had some excellent results in her maths and English and, in fact, she was asked to read her essay out loud for the class. Her Christmas play is the week after next and I wonder if you’ve perhaps decided whether you can come or not...?’
‘I see no reason why not. I’ll get my PA to clear my diary for the day, although naturally I can’t promise anything.’ He swirled his glass and stared down into the deep red liquid for a few seconds, then looked at her in silence.
This woman had worked for him for a little over two years and he knew next to nothing about her personal life. Not that he had ever had much interest in digging deep. She was highly competent, Angelina adored her and she kept herself to herself. What else could possibly be relevant?
He was well trained when it came to drawing very clear lines between himself and his employees but, even so, there had always been something resting in the shadows that drew his reluctant eyes to places they didn’t belong. To the slender gracefulness of her figure, to the smooth calm of her features and to barely-there hints of undercurrents that belied that calm exterior.
‘She’ll be thrilled.’ Kate smiled and met his gaze. ‘She’s always very excited when you attend school events.’
Dante wondered, just fleetingly, whether there was an implied criticism there and then decided that there wasn’t.
‘I expect you must be wondering why I’ve asked to have a chat with you.’
‘Well,’ Kate returned cautiously, ‘not at all. I work for you and—and—naturally you’re going to want to find out how Angelina is, how her day’s been...’
‘I’ve just been to see my uncle.’
‘How is he?’ This time Kate’s smile was genuine. She was very fond of Antonio. She and Angelina would often visit, sometimes at the beginning of the summer holidays before Kate returned to England, sometimes during Angelina’s half terms. How on earth he could be related to Dante was a mystery because, as personalities went, they couldn’t have been more different.
‘Not well, I’m afraid to say.’
‘My word, what’s the matter with him?’
‘To be blunt, he’s been diagnosed with possible cancer. Nothing’s confirmed but the signs bear thinking about.’ Dante held up one hand as though to stop a possible interruption even though Kate’s mouth had dropped open in speechless, horrified silence. ‘I personally don’t think that it’s nearly as serious as he seems to believe, but he’s fairly frantic with worry. I’ve spent the past day and a half with him, going to see his consultant so that I can get a clear picture of what exactly is going on.’
‘And...?’
‘More tests need to be done. Things aren’t as clear cut as they might have assumed, given all the physical symptoms, but there were certainly no murmurings of doom.’ Dante stared at the drink, took a sip and sighed. ‘Unfortunately, things aren’t quite as straightforward in other areas as could be expected.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Antonio seems to think that this diagnosis places him at death’s door, despite reassurances from myself and from his consultant. He’s managed to convince himself that the Grim Reaper is lurking around the corner and he’s now in the process of putting his affairs in order.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘It means, firstly, that he’s going to give up overall running of the family estates. Frankly, much of the business of running the estates is already extensively handled by people I put in place when my parents died, and before Antonio assumed full control, but it’s a big deal for him. He’s going to leave the palace and is making noises about retiring to the countryside, even though there’s absolutely no need for such a drastic change.’
‘I guess the palaceisvery big for a man on his own.’
Dante frowned.
‘What does size have to do with it?’
‘He might feel a little lonely, I guess...’
‘This place is not much smaller. I’ve never felt lonely in it.’
Kate shrugged and gazed down at her fingers linked on her lap.
What a world Dante D’Agostino inhabited. One in which palaces, castles, vineyards and villas were all just part and parcel of an accepted lifestyle. Was it even possible for him to stop and consider that an old man might just find a palace something of a handful, even if all his needswerecatered for?
She thought of some of the places she had lived in with her parents, forever travelling across the country, dipping into Europe now and again, jumping from mobile home to canal boat to the occasional caravan thrown in for good measure. One of the most permanent places had been a commune in Scotland, where they had lived for over two years, during which time Kate had thrived, caught up on her schooling and enjoyed the temporary bliss of having roots in one place.
Her hippy parents had never contemplated the horror of settling down in one place. She couldn’t remember a time when she had lived in any place bigger than a handful of rooms and where getting on top of one another had been part of the deal. Home tutoring had joined forces with conventional education now and again, and she had just had to make the best of it in all the weird and wacky places they had stayed in.
And here she was with a guy who couldn’t see why a palace to house one person might be a bit over the top.
‘Why are you smiling?’
