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Italian Attraction. Lucy GordonЧитать онлайн книгу.

Italian Attraction - Lucy Gordon


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his sunglasses on to drive and now she couldn’t see his eyes as he said, ‘Come to dinner one evening. My home is at its best on a summer’s evening.’

      Her stomach tumbled. All the way from the inn she had been regretting her earlier rebuff when he had offered to show her the sights during her stay; now she couldn’t gauge if his offer was a polite empty one or if he really meant it.

      The large ornate door of the house opened in the next moment, revealing a small wizened woman with snowy white hair standing in the gap. Was this his mother? She was nothing like she’d expected, Maisie thought in surprise, only to realise her mistake when Blaine said, ‘Liliana, here is Maisie,’ as he held out a hand to the little figure.

      ‘Welcome, welcome.’ Liliana smiled at her. ‘I have a tray prepared for you, just a cool drink and some fruit. Blaine said you would be eating earlier.’

      Maisie was heartily relieved to hear Liliana speak such fluent English. She had assumed the housekeeper would probably have a smattering of the language as Blaine’s mother was American, and as her knowledge of Italian was nonexistent she’d hoped they’d get by, but this was better than she had expected. She smiled widely at the black-clad little woman. ‘Thank you very much, that’s very kind of you.’

      ‘Are you staying for a while, Blaine?’ Liliana asked, in the way a mother would rather than a housekeeper. Maisie got the feeling the two of them were very close.

      ‘Not tonight, work calls.’ He smiled and touched one heavily lined cheek with his lips. ‘I shall bring Maisie’s bags in and then leave her in your capable hands, sì? Any news from the hospital?’

      ‘He is resting and your mother has agreed to stay at the hotel from tomorrow onwards. She wants to meet Maisie tonight and then show her the horses and explain the routine and feeding of the animals tomorrow. As though I couldn’t have done that.’ Liliana sniffed. ‘Jennifer won’t be home for some time,’ she added to Maisie, ‘so I’ll show you your room in a moment and you can freshen up before you eat.’

      All the time Liliana had been talking the sound of barks and whines had filtered through the house. Now, as Maisie stepped into what was a wide and gracious hall with beautiful marble tiles on the floor and a curved staircase, the sound rose in intensity. Two large Persian cats were sitting at the foot of the stairs and they eyed her with mild curiosity and another cat, a little tabby, came winding round Maisie’s legs as she looked about her.

      ‘These are some of your charges.’ Blaine had just arrived back in the house with her case and bags. ‘There are six more cats, mostly rescue animals. My mother supports a local sanctuary and every time she visits them she seems to come back with another cat. The dogs are a mixed bunch too, but quite well behaved on the whole.’

      Liliana made a sound somewhere between a snort and a sniff at this point. Maisie gathered that she didn’t agree. ‘Can I see the dogs?’ she asked eagerly.

      ‘Now?’ Liliana asked in surprise. She clearly couldn’t understand the interest. ‘Would you not prefer to freshen up first?’

      Blaine, however, was walking towards a door at the far end of the hall and as he opened it a number of dogs tumbled out into the hall. Big ones, little ones, long-haired, short-haired, they all made a dash towards her but instead of jumping up as she had expected sat in an orderly circle once they reached her. All except for one little funny-looking mongrel with big ears and a whiskered chin. He seemed as though he was on springs and kept up a frenzied jumping on the edge of the crowd.

      Once the initial onslaught had ceased Maisie counted seven dogs, mostly mongrels from what she could see, although there was a little Scottie and a Labrador in the pack. She fussed them all enthusiastically and, apart from a little shoving and jostling amongst themselves, they behaved remarkably well, although the jumping bean positioned himself on her foot once she straightened again.

      ‘That’s Humphrey,’ said Blaine, his accent making the very English name sound even cuter. ‘He’s a law unto himself and the bane of Liliana’s life. Isn’t that right, Liliana?’

      Liliana frowned at him. ‘This is not something that is amusing,’ she said severely. ‘He is a bad dog. Only today he has chewed one of my best shoes.’

      Blaine grinned. ‘He only does it to get your attention; isn’t that what mother says? If you would only love him he would be quite content. Surely you can open up your heart and make room for one little dog?’

      ‘Hmph!’ Liliana eyed him darkly. ‘You do not live with this animal, Blaine, and my heart is quite open enough, thank you. It does not need filling with dogs and cats.’

      ‘Hard woman.’ Blaine winked at Maisie as he picked up her things and walked to the stairs. ‘Which guest room, Liliana?’

      ‘The blue.’ Liliana ushered Maisie after Blaine. ‘Come and see your room.’

      Maisie felt distinctly odd as she followed Blaine up the winding staircase. The little exchange with the housekeeper had revealed yet another side to him and this one was perhaps more disturbing than the others. He had seemed almost tender with the small woman and his teasing had been gently affectionate. There had been nothing of the egotistical playboy about him then. In fact, she had found herself envying Liliana, which was perfectly ridiculous!

      The blue room turned out to be more of a small suite overlooking the grounds at the back of the house. It held a small sitting room with a two-seater sofa, bookcase, TV and coffee table, and beyond this a large double bedroom with its own en suite bathroom in cream and blue marble. Maisie was quite overwhelmed. ‘But I didn’t expect anything like this,’ she stammered. ‘I’m here to work; I’m not a guest. This is just lovely.’

      Liliana had been looking hard at her and now she suddenly smiled. It was an amazing smile which lit up her face. Maisie realised the small woman must have been beautiful in her youth. ‘This is a good girl,’ she pronounced to Blaine, who was standing with his back to the window staring at the pair of them with unfathomable eyes. ‘I like your Maisie.’

      ‘The lady in question would object to being called my anything,’ Blaine drawled lazily, moving across the room as he spoke and touching the housekeeper’s arm as he passed her. ‘I will leave you two to get to know each other. Goodnight, Liliana. Maisie.’

      ‘Oh. Good … goodnight.’ The suddenness of his departure had taken Maisie aback.

      Liliana followed Blaine out of the room. ‘I will leave you to unpack and freshen up,’ she said quietly. ‘Come downstairs when you are ready and we can have a glass of lemonade on the veranda. I am glad you are here, signorina.’

      ‘Thank you.’

      Maisie stood for a moment, looking at the door Liliana had closed behind her. Was there more to those last words than just face value? she thought. The tone of Liliana’s voice could lead her to believe so. And then she shook her head at herself. Liliana spoke wonderful English but she was Italian through and through; it was just the older woman’s inflexion which had thrown her. It had been a polite welcome, that was all. How could it possibly be anything more?

      CHAPTER FOUR

      BY THE time Blaine’s mother arrived home much later that evening Liliana had shown Maisie all over the beautiful house and well-kept grounds. Of her own volition she had met the two horses, a stallion and a mare, both with coats as black as jet and liquid, heavily lashed eyes. She had been surprised to see the mare was heavily pregnant; no one had mentioned this thus far. After giving them a couple of sugar lumps to make friends, she had stood watching them for some time, Liliana long since having returned to her kitchen.

      The evening shadows turned from gentle violet and mauve to velvet charcoal as she stood observing the two horses, the stallion standing with the mare half leaning against him, their two heads nuzzling every so often.

      The air carried the delicate perfume of the orange groves beyond the horses’ paddock and stables and it was very quiet and tranquil, the sky pierced with stars and the


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