Page 23 of When She Tempts (The Fallen)
I purse my lips in his direction. Reconnect with nature?Seriously?
“Wonderful,” Allegra says. “You couldn’t have picked a better place. You’ll see, this property is truly something special.”
CHAPTER7
MARTINA
Breakfast wraps up shortly after,and when I finish my cappuccino, Giorgio leads me out of the dining room to begin our tour.
“The staff know better than to ask a lot of questions, but it appears they’ve forgotten their manners due to their excitement,” he says once we’re out of everyone’s earshot.
“Thanks for answering them,” I say quietly. “I didn’t really know what to say.”
“When in doubt, say less,” he advises as we enter the living room.
“Is that a life philosophy?”
His lips twitch. “Something like that.”
We stop by an enormous arched window, where I’m treated to another spectacular view of the forest I saw from my bedroom this morning. The skies are gray, but here and there, sunlight peeks out and paints patches of gold across the treetops.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Giorgio turn to me. “I should make one thing clear. You are not to leave the property under any circumstances.”
I resist the urge to roll my eyes at his grave tone. I mean, where would I even go? On the drive here last night, this place seemed like it was in the middle of nowhere. From up here, I can see a smattering of homes up on the hills in the far distance, but they’re on the other side of the forest. “Fine.”
“Besides that, you’re free to roam the property with the exception of the forest. It’s easy to get lost in.”
I send a frown in his direction. “Allegra said Tommaso and Polo go running there.”
His expression narrows with warning. “They know the land. You don’t.”
I let it go, not in the mood to argue over a point that doesn’t matter much to me. Hiking isn’t in my plans.
Closer to the castello is a large, rectangular pool with a stone deck around it. A small bird with a bright-yellow beak bobs on the surface of the water.
“Do you like to swim?” Giorgio asks.
I glance at him. He’s facing the window, his arms clasped behind his back.
“I’ve lived in Ibiza most of my life. Of course I like to swim. Do you?”
“Not particularly.”
“Really? But you’re from Naples, and it’s right on the sea.”
“My mother was afraid of water, so we rarely went when I was a kid.”
“Why was she afraid of it?”
He’s still looking out the window as he says, “She had a bad experience once. Nearly drowned. I must have picked up on her distaste subconsciously.”
“Hmm. My mom was very afraid of bees. Dem told me it was because her cousin got stung and died. My brother’s afraid of bees too, even though he won’t ever admit it out loud.”
Giorgio gives me an amused look, and something about it sends warmth spreading through my gut. “You shouldn’t tell people that. Your brother’s weaknesses are about to become extremely valuable information.”
I pale. “Crap. Forget I said it?”
“I’m afraid I have an exceptionally good memory.”
