The Truth Behind his Touch

‘We need to have a little chat and this place isn’t doing it for me.’

Caroline felt her heart lift a little. Maybe he was reconsidering his original stance. Maybe, just maybe, he had seen the light and was now prepared to let bygones be bygones. She temporarily forgot his ominous opening words and the mysterious stack of papers in front of her.

‘Of course!’ She smiled brightly and then cleared her throat when there was no reciprocal smile. ‘I … You haven’t said how you managed to find me. Where are we going? Am I supposed to bring all this stuff with me?’

Presumably, yes, as he spun round on his heels and was scouring the piazza through narrowed eyes. Did he notice the interested stares he was garnering from the tourists, particularly the women? Or was he immune to that sort of attention?

Caroline grabbed the papers and scrambled to follow him as he strode away from the café through a series of small roads, leaving the crush of tourists behind.

Today, she had worn the only other outfit she had brought with her, a summer dress with small buttons down the front. Because it left her shoulders bare, and because she was so acutely conscious of her generous breasts, she had a thin pink cardigan slung loosely over her—which wasn’t exactly practical, given the weather, but without it she felt too exposed and self-conscious.

With the ease of someone who lived in the city, he weaved his way through the busier areas until they were finally at a small café tucked away from the tourist hotspots, although even here the ancient architecture, the charming square with its sixteenth-century well, the engravings on some of the façades, were all photo opportunities.

She dithered behind him, feeling a bit like a spare part as he spoke in rapid Italian to a short, plump man whom she took to be the owner of the café. Then he motioned her inside where it was blessedly cool and relatively empty.

‘You can sit,’ Giancarlo said irritably when she continued to hover by the table. What did his father see in the woman? He barely remembered Alberto, but one thing he did remember was that he had not been the most docile person in the world. If his mother had been a difficult woman, then she had found her match in her much older husband. What changes had the years wrought, if Alberto was happy to work with someone who had to be the most background woman he had ever met? And once again she was in an outfit that would have been more suitable on a woman twice her age. Truly the English hadn’t got a clue when it came to fashion.

He found himself appraising her body and then, surprisingly, lingering on her full breasts pushing against the thin cotton dress, very much in evidence despite the washed-out cardigan she had draped over her shoulders.

‘You never said how you managed to find me,’ Caroline repeated a little breathlessly as she slid into the chair opposite him.

She shook away the giddy, drowning feeling she had when she looked too hard at him. Something about his animal sex-appeal was horribly unsettling, too hard to ignore and not quite what she was used to.

‘You told me where you were staying. I went there first thing this morning and was told by the receptionist that you’d left for the Duomo. It was just a question of time before you followed the herd to one of the cafés outside.’

‘So … have you had a rethink?’ Caroline asked hopefully. She wondered how it was that he could look so cool and urbane in his cream trousers and white shirt while the rest of the population seemed to be slowly dissolving under the summer sun.

‘Have a look at the papers in front of you.’

Caroline dutifully flicked through them. ‘I’m sorry, I have no idea what these are—and I’m not very good with numbers.’ She had wisely tied her hair back today but still some curling strands found their way to her cheeks and she absent-mindedly tucked them behind her ears while she continued to frown at the pages and pages of bewildering columns and numbers in front of her, finally giving up.

‘After I saw you I decided to run a little check on Alberto’s company accounts. You’re looking at my findings.’

‘I don’t understand why you’ve shown me this. I don’t know anything about Alberto’s financial affairs. He doesn’t talk about that at all.’

‘Funny, but I never thought him particularly shy when it came to money. In fact, I would say that he’s always had his finger on the button in that area.’

‘How would you know, when you haven’t seen him for over a decade?’

Giancarlo thought of the way Alberto had short changed his mother and his lips curled cynically. ‘Let’s move away from that contentious area, shall we? And let’s focus on one or two interesting things I unearthed.’ He sat back as cold drinks were placed in front of them, along with a plate of delicate little tortas and pastries. ‘By the way, help yourself …’ He gestured to the dish of pastries and cakes and was momentarily sidetracked when she pulled her side plate in front of her and piled a polite mound, but a mound nevertheless, of the delicacies on it.

‘You’re actually going to eat all of those?’ he heard himself ask, fascinated against his will.

‘I know, I shouldn’t really. But I’m starving.’ Caroline sighed at the diet which she had been planning for ages and which had yet to get underway. ‘You don’t mind, do you? I mean … they’re not just here for show, are they?’

‘No, di niente.’ He sat back and watched as she nibbled her way through the pastries, politely leaving one, licking the sweet crumbs off her fingers with enjoyment. A rare sight. The stick-thin women he dated pushed food round their plates and would have recoiled in horror at the thought of eating anything as fattening as a pastry.

Of course, he should be getting on with what he wanted to say, but he had been thrown off course and he still was when she shot him an apologetic smile. There was an errant crumb at the side of her mouth and just for an instant he had an overwhelming urge to brush it off. Instead, he gestured to her mouth with his hand.

‘I always have big plans for going on a diet.’ Caroline blushed. ‘Once or twice I actually did, but diets are deadly. Have you ever been on one? No, I bet you haven’t. Well, salads are all well and good, but just try making them interesting. I guess I just really love food.’

‘That’s … unusual. In a woman. Most of the women I meet do their best to avoid the whole eating experience.’

Of course he would be the type who only associated with model types, Caroline thought sourly. Thin, leggy women who weighed nothing. She wished she hadn’t indulged her sweet tooth. Not that it mattered because, although he might be good-looking—well, staggering, really—he wasn’t the sort of man she would ever go for. So what did it matter if he thought that she was overweight and greedy into the bargain?

‘You were saying something about Alberto’s financial affairs?’ She glanced down at her watch, because why on earth should he have the monopoly on precious time? ‘It’s just that I leave tomorrow morning and I want to make sure that I get through as much as possible before I go.’

Giancarlo was, for once in his life, virtually lost for words. Was she hurrying him along?

‘I think,’ he asserted without inflection, ‘that your plans will have to take a back seat until I’m finished.’

‘You haven’t told me whether you’ve decided to put the past behind you and accompany me back to Lake Como.’ She didn’t know why she was bothering to ask the question because it was obvious that he had no such intention.

‘So you came here to see me for the sole purpose of masterminding a jolly reunion …’

‘It wasn’t my idea.’

‘Immaterial. Getting back to the matter in hand, the fact is that Alberto’s company accounts show a big, gaping black hole.’

Caroline frowned because she genuinely had no idea what he was talking about.

‘Si,’ Giancarlo imparted without a shade of regret as he continued to watch her so carefully that she could feel the colour mounting in her cheeks. ‘He has been leaking money for the past ten years but recently it’s become something more akin to a haemorrhage …’

Caroline gasped and stared at him in sudden consternation. ‘Oh my goodness. Do you think that that’s why he had the heart attack?’

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘I didn’t think he took an active interest in what happened in the company. I mean, he’s been pretty much a recluse since I came to live with him.’

‘Which would be how long ago?’

‘Several months. Originally, I only intended to come for a few weeks, but we got along so well and there were so many things he wanted me to do that I found myself staying on.’ She fixed anxious brown eyes on Giancarlo, who seemed sublimely immune to an ounce of compassion at the news he had casually delivered.

‘Are you … are you sure you’ve got your facts right?’

‘I’m never wrong,’ he said drily. ‘It’s possible that Alberto hasn’t played an active part in running his company for some time now. It’s more than possible that he’s been merrily living off the dividends and foolishly imagining that his investments are paying off.’

‘And what if he only recently found out?’ Caroline cried, determined not to become too over-emotional in front of a man who, she knew, would see emotion in a woman as repellent. Besides, she had cried on him yesterday. She still had the handkerchief to prove it. Once had been bad enough but twice would be unforgivable.

‘Do you think that that might have contributed to his heart attack? Do you think that he became so stressed that it affected his health?’ Horribly rattled at that thought, she distractedly helped herself to the last pastry lying uneaten on her plate.

‘No one can ever accuse me of being a gullible man, Signorina Rossi.’ Giancarlo was determined to stick to the script. ‘One lesson I’ve learnt in life is that, when it comes to money, there will always be people around who are more than happy to scheme their way into getting their hands on some of it.’

‘Yes. Yes, I suppose so. Whatever. Poor Alberto. He never mentioned a word and yet he must have been so worried. Imagine having to deal with that on your own.’

‘Yes. Poor Alberto. Still, whilst poring over these findings, it occurred to me that your mission here might very well have been twofold.’

‘The doctor said that stress can cause all sorts of health problems.’