The Count's Prize (2 page)

‘I’m a very formal person.’

‘Then allow me to say that it gives me the greatest pleasure to welcome you into my humble home,’ he announced with mock gravity. As he spoke, he inclined in a semi-formal bow. When Josie pointedly refused his unspoken invitation to join in the joke he straightened up again, but he was still smiling.

Josie knew that hiding her shyness behind a brave face often worked, so she fell back on that. She lifted her chin and returned his gaze boldly. This was a man who was at ease in every situation—she had learned that much from Antonia’s stories. The same stories that had led her to surreptitiously search for him on Google the other night. Neither the gossip columns nor Antonia had
exaggerated. His aristocratic bearing made those anecdotes all too believable, and one look at Count Dario di Sirena showed that his charm ran deep. He was as gorgeous as he was imposing, and radiated an inner assurance that all the wealth and power in the world couldn’t buy. Dario in the living, breathing flesh was a different prospect altogether from his sister—Josie’s cheerful, chubby friend. Without a doubt, he was the best-looking man she had ever seen. The way he looked at her was its own distraction: it set her firmly at the centre of his universe.

It took a supreme act of will on Josie’s part to remember that most men had the attention span of fruit flies. She took it for granted that when she failed to massage his ego Dario would soon lose interest and disappear. That tactic had worked only too well for her in the past, even though she hadn’t done it deliberately. Men seemed to vanish, whether she wanted them to or not. An experienced charmer like Dario wouldn’t waste his time in trying to pursue her.

‘I’m surprised you chose to come straight here instead of staying at Rimini with Antonia and little Fabio first, Dr Street,’ he said conversationally, trying to penetrate her awkward silence.

The spotlight of his attention paralysed Josie. Somehow he seemed to be blinding her, even though his face was in shadow. She moved uncomfortably, trying to persuade herself it was the sun that was sending her temperature off the scale.

‘You can call me Josie,’ she mumbled. ‘I’ve stayed at your villa there before, and felt that I rather cramped
Antonia’s style. She always tried to include me in her entertaining, but all those posh neighbours with their stories about people and places I didn’t know were …’ She groped for a way to put it politely.

‘Not quite your cup of tea?’

Dario’s words were slow, but the merriment in his eyes was quicksilver. Hearing his beautiful Italian accent caress such a typically English phrase, Josie felt it melt the veneer of sophistication she had tried to put on. The fierce heat of embarrassment rushed up over her breasts and stained her face with a blush again.

‘The chauffeur took my luggage away with him and left me here on my own. I was trying to work out how to attract someone’s attention.’

‘You’ve got my attention now,’ Dario said with calm assurance, and something deep inside Josie flared to life, wishing that were true. Impervious to Josie’s internal turmoil, Dario reached out to the bell pull and flicked aside a small catch that Josie hadn’t noticed. It was keeping the iron rod clamped in place.

‘Ah—of course. Thank you.’

She put out her hand automatically, but he caught it before she could connect with the heavy iron ring. For a split second she experienced the grip of his strong brown fingers again, then his touch fell away.

‘I wouldn’t. That’s the
castello
’s original fire alarm, and this is the assembly point. It operates a big bell that gathers everyone within earshot and I don’t think either of us would want that, would we?’

Josie shuddered. The idea of being the centre of attention horrified her—unless her audience was as warm
and friendly as this man. With a smile that told her he knew exactly what she was thinking, Dario flicked the safety catch back on.

‘To ring the bell, you need to get up close and personal with Stella Maris here,’ he said, nodding towards the iron mermaid. ‘One of my forebears had a wicked sense of humour.’

Dario seemed to have inherited it. Sticking out his index finger, he pressed the mermaid firmly in the tummy button. An astonishingly loud ring drilled into the interior of the house.

‘Ah! Was this one of the inventions of the eighth Count? When Toni suggested I came here, I read everything I could find about the
castello
,’ Josie gabbled to cover her embarrassment.

Dario looked bemused, then shrugged. ‘If you say so. I have no idea, I’m afraid. Whoever thought of it must have wanted to deter honest women.’ Dario gave her a wickedly expressive look.

Josie blushed again. Beside Dario, she felt like a hedge sparrow matched against a peregrine falcon. He was totally at ease in his sunny surroundings, and dressed to enjoy them. Josie wasn’t. Her shoes were comfortable but clumpy, while her chain-store skirt suit was totally out of place beyond her university’s lecture theatre.

Within seconds, the great main door creaked open and a servant showed them into Dario’s home.

The
castello
’s entrance hall was dominated by a huge stone hearth. The fire back was a copy of the di Sirena
family crest, with more mermaids like the ones Josie had seen discreetly stamped on Antonia’s luggage.

‘There go your things,’ Dario observed as a member of his staff swept past carrying a suitcase in each hand. ‘They’ll have put you in the West tower. That means you won’t be disturbed by any of the yachting club who stayed here last night. They’re all in the East wing. Come on, I’ll show you up to your suite.’

While Josie stared in wonder at the entrance hall’s carved ceilings and wooden panelling, he was taking the marble staircase two at a time. When he called to her, she had to run to catch up.

‘I’m sure you must have better things to do, Count Dario. Don’t let me put you to any trouble.’ Her voice echoed through the foyer.

He looked down at her sharply from his vantage point on the first landing. ‘You’re already a friend of the family, Josie, so to you I’m Antonia’s brother. Just call me Dario. It really would be my pleasure to show you to your suite,’ he finished firmly.

Josie followed him, although she had her reservations.

‘Are you sure you can find it?’ she said drily as they walked through a warren of corridors. All the flawless white plaster and polished woodwork made them look alike to her.

‘I have been rattling around inside this place all my life. Hasn’t Antonia told you why these floors are so shiny?’

Josie shook her head, smiling at the incongruous image of Dario with floor polish in hand.

‘I’d tie dusters to her feet and push her up and down, along all these miles of corridors. No matter how upset she was, that could always make her laugh.’

‘It’s hard to think of anyone being unhappy in a place as beautiful as this,’ she murmured.

‘People forget—there is more to life than just a lifestyle.’ Dario sighed, pushing open the nearest door. They were in the oldest part of the castle, where a huge lookout tower had been built within the shelter of its thick stone walls. It had been completely modernised, with a circular staircase leading up to a self-contained suite arranged on three floors. The first floor was laid out for dining and relaxing, while the second contained a bedroom and en suite bathroom.

‘—and finally,’ Dario announced as he led her up beyond the second floor doorway, ‘there’s something I call the solar …’

They had reached the top floor and he stepped out into a large circular room with windows facing in every direction. There were glass panels set into the roof too, so the whole space was flooded with light. It felt almost as free as being outside, but with the benefit of a sophisticated air-conditioning system.

‘Wow …’ Josie breathed, but couldn’t say anything more. She walked around the sunlit interior, taking in its panoramic views of the Tuscan countryside. The atmosphere outside was as clear as vodka. Pencil-slim cypress stood out like exclamation marks against rolling fields of arid grass, sunflowers and the green corrugations of the estate’s vineyards.

‘You should see it after nightfall,’ Dario told her,
waiting until she paused before strolling slowly over to stand beside her. ‘It’s a scene of black velvet, full of possibilities. Headlights streaking along the Florence road … is it a triumph or a tragedy, a baby arriving or a lover departing? It’ll be hard for you to pick out the little farmhouses scattered across my land until you know the area better, but by night Luigi’s house, Enrico’s olive grove and Federico’s farmhouse will all be recognisable.’ His voice dropped to a wistful note. ‘I come up here sometimes to sit in the silence and wonder what they’re all doing.’

He was standing so close to her, Josie could feel his presence as well as catch the delicious drift of his aromatic aftershave. It gave her a tremulous feeling deep inside her body.

What’s happening to me? I’ve come here to work
, she thought in alarm, glancing up at him.

Dario was gazing out across the view, lost in thought. At that moment, as though feeling her gaze fall on him, he turned his head and their eyes met. Another sensuous ripple thrilled straight through her.

And, as if knowing what was on her mind, Dario granted her a slow, sweet, irresistible smile.

J
OSIE’S
mind and body churned as she almost drowned in Dario’s gaze.

It must have been like this with Andy and that woman at the university
, she thought with a shiver.
I can’t risk getting between this man and the girlfriend he’s bound to have hidden away somewhere
.

After what felt like an eternity, she managed to regain enough control to step away from him, as if to take a tour around the room.

‘This suite is wonderful, Dario, but it’s way out of my league. Don’t you have anything smaller?’ she asked, desperately trying to bring them both back to earth.

He looked startled for a moment, then laughed.

‘This isn’t a hotel! As I kept telling Antonia, you don’t have to pay anything at all for your visit, Josie. As her friend, you have a standing invitation to stay here whenever you like, for as long as you like. Surely she passed on my message?’

‘She did, but I always pay my own way.’

‘And the local hospital fund was very grateful when I forwarded your contribution.’ Dario grinned. ‘So why
don’t we pretend your generosity qualified you for a complimentary upgrade?’

Josie hesitated, but decided that she had made her point.

‘In which case, thank you, Dario. But I’m afraid you won’t get much chance to look out of these windows while I’m staying here,’ she told him, and herself, briskly. ‘This looks like the perfect place for me to spread out my finds and paperwork. It’s well away from everyone else, so we won’t disturb each other. Thank you for bringing me up here.’

Dario gave her a smile of silent amusement. The meaning in her clipped words was only too obvious. She wanted to be alone, so he slowly headed back towards the door.

‘You’re trying so hard not to let yourself go, aren’t you?’ he murmured, just loud enough for her to hear.

‘I don’t know what you mean.’

He turned to face her, and then grinned again. ‘That blush tells me you’ve been taking too much notice of Antonia’s stories, Josie.’ He chuckled, his rich Florentine accent making her name sound incredibly beautiful. ‘Be assured that, as my sister’s best friend, you are quite safe. From me, at least.’

‘Anyone coming on to me would be making a mistake, Dario,’ she said firmly, ‘and I’d be making an even bigger mistake if I fell for it,’ she added. Her voice stopped his smile in an instant.

‘I suppose that’s understandable, when you’ve seen what has happened to Antonia.’

‘And to me.’

His eyes flashed dangerously. ‘You don’t mean that waster Rick tried it on with you, too?’

‘No—no! I just assumed Antonia had told you about—’ Josie stopped, and mentally hugged her friend. Antonia must have been very discreet. ‘That is … I mean … I had a similar experience, though it was nothing compared to what Toni’s been through. At the time I tried to warn her, but it was hard when she was so happy.’

His expression turned into one she couldn’t quite identify. ‘Knowing Antonia, trying to warn her off was a rash move. And yet you’re still friends?’

‘Of course.’

Dario’s dark, finely arched eyebrows shot up. ‘Weren’t you afraid she would dump you for trying to make her see sense?’

‘Oh, yes, but I felt I had no choice. I couldn’t bear to stand back and watch her throw away all her hard work for a man who was nothing but a lightweight—if you know what I mean.’

Her glance flicked around the palatial surroundings of her suite. She hoped he wouldn’t take her words personally. Seeing all the brand new luxury decorating the age-old splendour of the Castello Sirena, Josie decided she was going to like staying here, despite its attractively distracting Count.

‘I most certainly do know. I get plenty of gold diggers prospecting around me,’ he said grimly.

Josie laughed. ‘The only digging I’m interested in is the historical sort. So if you’ve got any ancestral skeletons hidden in your wardrobe, I’m the one to find out
where their bodies are buried.
Your
dark secrets are your own affair, though!’

She was still glancing idly around the room as she spoke. When he didn’t reply, she looked back at him quizzically. For a second, there was such a depth of feeling in his irresistible dark eyes that not even Dario could hide it. The instant she trapped his gaze, the look vanished. His expression was left as bland as any first-time house guest could wish for, but Josie wasn’t fooled for a second.

In that instant she had seen a genuine reaction from a man who must be as used to putting on a public face as she was. Somehow, Josie knew, she had touched Dario di Sirena on a raw nerve. The man was hiding something. She had no idea what it was, or what she had done to provoke him.

All she knew was that she would have to be on the alert from that moment on.

Dario rarely allowed himself to be anything
but
alert. He had been born an aristocrat, and now fell back on the full force of his upbringing. He kissed her hand again and covered his momentary lapse with his most charming smile, which usually distracted even the most stubborn woman. Except … it didn’t have that effect on Dr Josie Street. Right now her green eyes were as bright and hard as emeralds, and her long silky lashes could do nothing to soften her curious, intelligent gaze. For a moment, she’d forgotten to be shy. Then a lock of hair dared to escape from the band that was holding her severe ponytail in place and she snatched back her hand. The wayward strand was scraped irritably behind her
ear and she turned her back on him to fuss with her suitcases.

Dario chose to take the hint. ‘Goodbye, Josie. I hope you enjoy your stay here.’

‘I’m sure I shall, Dario. Especially when Toni and Fabio get back here next week.’

‘You could still join them both in Rimini now, if you like.’ Dario lifted his tennis racket again and began idly spinning it over his palm. ‘I could arrange transport for you right away.’ For some reason, the thought of Josie and her all-too-perceptive gaze staying here for the week made him uneasy.

‘No, thank you.’ She glanced over her shoulder at him with a glint of green ice. ‘As I said before, I’d rather work here than gossip with the beautiful people of Rimini.’

He raised his eyebrows again. ‘It’s a rare woman who would choose that.’

‘Not rare, just honest,’ she countered.

Dario tipped his head in salute. ‘That quality is in short supply in the circles I move in. I can see why you would have difficulty fitting in.’

She shrugged. ‘Research demands honesty, and it gets to be a habit. That’s all.’

‘I’ll bear that in mind,’ Dario said as he left, wondering what it would take to make Dr Josephine Street loosen up.

Josie couldn’t wait to plunge out into the estate and start exploring. She unpacked as fast as she could, intending to get busy straight away, but her suite was as
distracting as Count Dario di Sirena himself. It seemed odd to hang up her cheap white T-shirts on beautiful hand-made padded hangers filled with lavender. The marble wet room that was part of her en suite bathroom was an irresistible temptation as the sun climbed higher outside. Tearing off her shoes and tights, she padded around in it barefoot for a while.

By the time she had changed and finished exploring the three floors of her hideaway in the tower, Dario’s other guests were in a holding pattern down in the courtyard. Watching all those chauffeur-driven limousines and prestige sports cars jockeying for position was an entertainment in itself. Josie spent much more time than she meant to with her elbows on her windowsill, staring down at the magnificent procession.

It was only when the Count himself came into view that she dodged back from the window. She moved as though she had been burned, not wanting Dario to think that her claim to be busy was just empty waffle.

Work first, play later
, she kept reminding herself, although, for her,
later
never quite seemed to arrive.

Antonia was always joking that no one would ever catch Josie idling. Josie wasn’t sure she liked what that said about her, but she really did have a lot of work that had to be done before the new academic year started.

Italy and its history had fascinated Josie since she was a child. Pottering about in her back garden, she was always unearthing things and taking them in to school. One piece had turned out to be a broken Roman brooch, lost by a woman over two thousand years ago. That single piece, and an inspirational teacher, had really fired
Josie’s imagination. Now, twenty years later, she was here in the land of the Romans preparing to inspire others, allowed to design a whole new course! She was acutely conscious of her luck, and grateful for the sacrifices her mother had made. The downside was the extra pressure she felt to make the best of all her chances.

That was why watching Dario walk across the courtyard was bound to disrupt her plans. Something about him drew her back to the window again like a flower to sunlight. He had swapped his tennis kit for taupe jodhpurs, a white shirt and a pair of highly polished riding boots. The pale clothes showed off his exotic colouring perfectly. Josie could hardly believe her luck. Hard work had brought her here to Italy, and now she was staring down at a drop-dead gorgeous guy from a tower that would have made Rapunzel sick with envy. Dario strolled across the forecourt, heading for the shade of the lime avenue like an emperor inspecting his lands. His leisurely strides were deceptive. They ate up the distance so quickly that soon the canopy of lush green leaves would hide him from view.

Then Count Dario di Sirena stopped, turned and looked quite deliberately straight up at where Josie was watching him from her window. She was transfixed. Something made her raise her right hand to wave, but another impulse snapped it straight back down to her side. She could imagine how her mother would sigh if she knew about this little tableau. Mrs Street would go all misty-eyed and lose herself again in the story of how she had met Josie’s father. Josie hated that. Her mother was the sad proof of how easy it was to misjudge a man,
and it always dragged her own personal error of judgement out into the light again.

Dario continued to look up at her thoughtfully for a moment, then nodded a salute and turned to disappear into the trees. In a burst of embarrassment, Josie ducked away from the window and scrabbled around to find her notebooks and camera. This was a working trip, with a lot to do and not much time in which to do it. She had to build her reputation as a serious academic. Gawping at Dario di Sirena wouldn’t help
that
at all! Packing her things into a messenger bag, she slung it over her shoulder and headed down to the castle’s entrance hall.

Once out in the sunshine again with a map provided by the resident housekeeper, Josie was careful to turn her back on the lime avenue. She set off in an entirely different direction from Dario, in case he got the impression she was following him. Heading out to the far side of the estate, she passed through shady groves of ancient olive trees and fragrant citrus, soaking up the sun. She wanted to reach the point where the di Sirena estate’s grand gated drive met the twisting country road that idled past on its way to Florence.

She had spotted two men working on a stone wall there. In her experience, boundary walls were magical things. All through history, people had haggled over them and changed them, climbed over them and dropped things in the process, or hidden special little items in between their stones or under their foundations. She set off towards the workmen in a hurry, but the intense heat soon sapped her energy. Strolling along was the only way to travel on a beautiful day like this. A
skylark lifted off from right under her feet, while corn buntings and yellowhammers rattled away from every thicket she passed.

She had drunk almost a whole bottle of water by the time she’d toiled all the way over to the workmen. One of them had already left in search of his dinner. The other was clearing up ready to disappear, too. Luckily he was a fund of stories, with a keen eye for what he called ‘little bits of something and nothing’. She was listening to him intently when she felt, rather than heard, a drumming sound reverberating through the parched grassland beneath her feet.

It was Dario. Mounted on a magnificent bay horse, he was cantering towards where she stood.

Josie planned to call out a casual, carefree hello, as though his appearance didn’t make her pulse immediately speed up. However, as she watched him ride towards her like a prince, come out of a storybook to claim her for his own, the words somehow caught in her throat and she was silent as he drew up in front of her.

He grinned. ‘I’ve had friendlier greetings!’

Josie swallowed and managed to force words out of her suddenly dry mouth. ‘Oh … I’m sorry, Dario. I was engrossed in what Signor Costa had to say, and you caught me by surprise.’

‘As I see. What’s keeping you so busy?’ Bringing his horse to a halt, he circled it around while sharing a few words with his estate worker.

‘You want to know about the history of this boundary wall?’ he asked Josie when he had finished his conversation.

She nodded, but looking at Dario made it difficult to remember what she
did
want. He looked magnificent, mounted high above her, the reins of his horse in one hand while the other rested loosely on the muscular plane of his thigh.

‘Yes—can you help?’

He laughed. ‘Not directly. I came over to see if you needed a translator.’

Josie’s heart turned a somersault, but she managed to keep her voice under control.

‘Thank you, but I can manage,’ she replied confidently. Then, afraid of sounding rude, she added, ‘I find I can concentrate better without distractions. I … I mean on my own …’

‘That’s a shame. I was looking forward to watching you at work. It makes a refreshing change. People don’t normally come here to do anything constructive. It’s a place built for pleasure.’

Josie stifled an involuntary moan. The chances of getting any work done with Count Dario around were minimal. She would be spending all her time trying not to look at the scenery—and she wasn’t thinking about the Tuscan hills.