Rinaldo's Inherited Bride. Lucy GordonЧитать онлайн книгу.
you mean is that you demand that I go about it in the way that suits you,’ she replied at once.
Something that might almost have been a smile passed over his bleak face and was gone.
‘Let us say that you should consider the whole complex situation before you rush to a decision,’ he said at last. ‘Every penny the farm has is tied up until the harvest. You’ll get your money, but in instalments.’
‘That’s no use to me. I have my own plans.’
He regarded her. ‘If your plans conflict with mine, let me advise you to drop them. In the meantime, you should leave Italy.’
‘No,’ she said bluntly.
‘I strongly advise you—’
‘The answer is no.’
‘Signorina,’ Rinaldo said softly, ‘you do not know this country.’
‘All the more reason for remaining. I’m part Italian and this is my country too.’
‘You misunderstand. When I said “this country” I didn’t mean Italy. I meant Tuscany. You’re not in cool, civilised England now. This is a dangerous place for intruders. Those dark hills look inviting, but too often they’ve hidden brigands who recognised no law but their own.’
‘And I’ll bet they were led by someone just like you,’ she challenged him back. ‘Someone who thought he had only to speak and the world trembled. Do you see me trembling?’
‘Perhaps you would be wiser if you did.’
‘Stop trying to scare me. It won’t work. I’ll do what suits me, when it suits me. If you don’t like it—tough. After all, that’s the code you live by yourself.’
This was a shot in the dark. She barely knew him, but instinct would have told her the sort of man he was, even if his own words and attitude hadn’t made it pretty plain. He was overbearing, and he wouldn’t be too scrupulous about how he got his own way. That was her estimation of him.
The sooner he realised that, in her, he’d met his match, the better.
‘Are you suggesting that I’m a brigand, signorina?’
‘I think you could be if you felt it necessary.’
‘And will it be necessary?’
‘You tell me. I imagine we judge the matter differently. I don’t want instalments. I need a lump sum, fairly soon. I have a once-in-a-lifetime chance, and to seize it I need money. But we can work it out. Perhaps someone else can take over the mortgage—a bank or something.’
Suddenly his face was dark, distorted.
‘Don’t try to involve strangers in this,’ he said fiercely. ‘Do you think I’d allow them to come interfering—dictating—Maria vergine!’
He slammed one hand into the other.
‘I’ve had enough of the way you talk to me,’ Alex said firmly. ‘Once and for all, try to understand that I will not be bullied. If you thought I would just collapse, you picked the wrong person.’
‘I’m only trying—’
‘I know what you’re “only trying” and I’ve heard enough. Now I’m going out. If you wish to talk to me you can make an appointment with my lawyer.’
‘The hell I will!’
‘The hell you won’t!’
Alex snatched up her purse and made for the door. Grim-faced, he moved fast, and she thought he was going to bar her way. Instead he opened the door for her and followed her out.
In the street she walked on without looking where she was going.
‘Which of them are you going to meet now?’ he demanded, walking beside her.
‘Well, of all the—’
‘Tell me.’
‘It’s none of your business.’
He got in front of her, forcing her to stop. ‘If you’re meeting Montelli it is my business.’
‘If and when I meet Signor Montelli it will be in my lawyer’s office, which is also where I will meet you—always supposing that I want to meet you. Now please get out of my way. I’d like to find somewhere to eat.’
Slightly to her surprise he moved aside. ‘I can recommend a good place in the next street—’
‘You mean it’s run by a friend of yours who’ll keep an eye on me?’ she said lightly.
‘You’re full of suspicion.’
‘Shouldn’t I be?’
Wryly, he nodded. ‘You’re also a very wise woman.’
‘Wise enough to pick a restaurant for myself. Your choice might have arsenic in the wine.’
‘Only if you have put me in your will.’
The last thing she’d expected from him was a joke, and a choke of laughter burst from her. She controlled it quickly, not wishing to yield a point to him.
Then she turned a corner and stopped in sudden delight at what she saw.
Before her was a huge loggia filled with stalls, selling pictures, ornaments, lace, leather goods, fancy materials. Everywhere was brightly coloured and bustling with life.
Most fascinating of all was a large bronze boar perched on a pedestal which contained a fountain, its tusks gleaming, its mouth open in a grin that mixed ferocity and welcome. Unlike the rest of the body, the nose was gleaming brightly in the late evening sun.
Even as Alex looked, two young women went up to the boar and rubbed its nose.
‘That’s why it shines,’ Rinaldo said. ‘You rub the nose and make a wish that one day you’ll return to Florence.’
Smiling, Alex put out her hand, but withdrew it without touching the bronze animal.
‘I’m not sure what I’ll do,’ she said, as though considering seriously. ‘Wishing to return to Florence would mean that I was leaving, wouldn’t it? And that’s so much what you’re trying to make me do that I think I should do the opposite.’
He eyed her with exasperation. But he did not, as she had been half hoping, show signs of real annoyance.
‘Of course, if I just decide to stay here, I wouldn’t need to return,’ she mused.
‘I suppose this entertains you,’ he growled. ‘To me it’s a waste of time.’
‘I’m sure you’re right. I’ll defer a decision until I’ve worked out what would annoy you the most.’
She began to turn away, but he grasped her upper arm with a hand that could almost encompass it. His grip was light, but she could sense the steel in his fingers, and knew that she had no chance of escape until he released her.
‘And then you’ll annoy me, for fun,’ he said. ‘But beware, signorina, to me this is not fun. My life’s blood is in Belluna. You will remember that, and you will respect it, because if you do not—’ his eyes, fixed on hers, were hard as flint ‘—if you do not—you will wish that you had. I have warned you.’
He removed his hand.
‘Enjoy your meal,’ he said curtly, and vanished into the crowd.
It was over. He was gone. All the things she ought to have said came crowding into her head now that it was too late to say them. All that was left was the imprint of his hand on the bare skin of her arm. He hadn’t held her all that tightly, but she could still feel him.
She turned away from the market and walked on through the streets. She found a restaurant and entered, barely