The Italian's Rightful Bride

She loved to stretch out in the warmth, even though someone as fair-skinned as herself had to work hard not to be burned. Years of working in the sun had turned her a permanent light brown, and bleached her hair.

She kicked off her old canvas shoes and lay flat on the ground, arms flung wide, head obliterated by the huge hat. She supposed she looked like a hobo, but she didn’t care. This was bliss.

Beginning to doze, she was only vaguely aware of a car stopping nearby. She sensed rather than heard someone looming over her then dropping to one knee.

‘Go away,’ she muttered. ‘I’m asleep.’

‘Excuse me…’

The man’s voice was polite but firm, and there was power in the hand that grasped her shoulder. Reluctantly Joanna moved the hat aside and looked up.

At first she couldn’t see properly. His head blotted out the sun, throwing his face into darkness.

‘Who are you?’ she asked, grumpy at being disturbed.

But she knew before he replied. Her vision was clearing and the face gazing quizzically down at her was the one she would never forget.

CHAPTER THREE

SHE sat up, studying him. He was older, heavier, with a careworn look that did not belong on a man of only thirty-four. She saw that much in an instant, also the touch of premature grey at the sides of his head.

He was frowning at her. ‘Have we met before?’

‘We did once,’ she told him gently. ‘A long time ago.’

‘Forgive me…’ He searched her face. ‘It will come to me in a moment.’

‘Time changes us all,’ she said with a wry smile. ‘I might not have recognised you if I hadn’t been prepared. And twelve years is a long time.’

‘Twelve—? Maria Vergine! Joanna!’

‘At last!’ she chuckled, having regained her composure enough to see the funny side. ‘How unflattering you are!’

He reddened, and she remembered how shy he could sometimes be. It was odd, and appealing, in a man who lived at the peak of society.

‘I didn’t mean—well, as you say, old times. It’s good to see you again. But how do you come to be here? Are you with…?’ He indicated the dig.

‘Yes, I did finally become an archaeologist.’

He reached out his hand to help her to her feet. It was as she remembered, lean but steely strong.

‘It was always what you really wanted, I recall,’ he said. ‘You used to talk of it.’

‘You mean I bent your ear endlessly,’ she reminded him, dusting herself down. ‘Goodness knows how you endured me!’

‘I liked it. You were so passionate about your favourite subject, it made your eyes light up. So you finally achieved your ambition, and now work with Mrs Manton, who, Carlo assures me, is the very best. Why are you laughing?’

‘I must thank Carlo for his good opinion.’

‘His—? You mean—?’

Her eyes teased him. ‘Uhuh!’

‘You are Mrs Manton?’

‘I plead guilty.’

He groaned. ‘I don’t know why it didn’t occur to me, except that you’re young to have such a reputation.’

‘Ah, but I’m the best,’ she reminded him, laughing.

‘I’m sure you are. Well, it’s good to know that an old friend is doing this work.’

‘Not just me. I have a team that I use for big jobs. They’ve gone back to the house for some lunch.’

‘Then let us do the same. It’s too hot to stand out here.’

‘Now I remember,’ he said as they drove back. ‘When Carlo called me he mentioned a team, and that you’re all staying in the house.’

‘I hope you don’t mind your house being invaded. It keeps us close to the work.’

‘Of course. Where else would you stay?’

Joanna was getting her bearings. She had seen him and, although an intensely attractive man, he was no longer the romantic Prince Charming of her memories. She was full of relief. Everything was going to be all right.

‘I’ll have our lunch served in my office and we can catch up on old times,’ Gustavo said as they approached the house.

But in the same moment Carlo appeared at the top of the steps, waving gleefully as he saw them.

‘It will have to wait,’ Gustavo said. ‘Let’s go in so that I can meet your team.’

The next hour was taken up with introductions. Gustavo greeted everyone involved in the dig and joined them in the buffet lunch. He behaved perfectly, spending time with each one and giving them his whole attention.

Joanna knew that this was part of noblesse oblige, something he’d been taught from childhood as the gracious behaviour expected of a prince. But the effect was still charming, and she was amused to notice that the three young women in her team flowered under it.

Claire had only just left college, cheerfully called herself the dogsbody of the group, and obviously regarded Gustavo with almost schoolgirl admiration.

Raven-haired Lily was an anthropologist, a blazing beauty and an incurable romantic who fell in love in ten minutes and out again in five. One look was enough to tell Joanna that Lily was already far gone.

Even Sally, a short, stern young woman, who was always gruff except when dealing with computers, gazed up at Gustavo, her attention riveted.

It forced Joanna to see him through their eyes, not overlaid by memories of how he had been, but as the mature man he was now, and she had to admit that she understood their reaction.

He’d been very young when she had loved him, little more than a boy. Now the years had brought him to his prime, and his prime was splendid. He seemed to have actually grown, but had merely filled out. As a boy he’d been too lean for his height. Now the slight extra weight he carried made him impressive.

He smiled suddenly, and at last she saw something familiar. It was more of a half-smile, as though some part of him was holding back, concealed behind it. Just as it had always been.

‘Does anyone know where my daughter is?’ he asked, looking around.