The Count's Prize. Christina Hollis
long, leisurely lunch should kick things off nicely, he decided.
Josie was so polite, Dario knew she would never be able to refuse his invitation.
He smiled as he strolled off to bed. It would be deliciously ironic to use her typical English reserve to build bridges between them …
CHAPTER THREE
NEXT morning, Josie’s alarm woke her before dawn had tinted the sky. The temptation to roll over and snuggle down for another couple of hours was almost overwhelming, but there were a thousand acres of the di Sirena estate waiting to be explored, and she couldn’t resist that. Getting ready in double quick time, she flung open the door of her suite, ready to run out and get started—and almost tripped over a bottle of champagne waiting just outside.
It must have been left over from Dario’s wild night out! She smiled, putting it aside.
Josie hadn’t spent a night out—wild or otherwise—for ages. With a twinge of faint embarrassment, she remembered how painful social events like that could be for her.
She slipped out of the castle while the day was still dim and the air cool. For the next few hours she crisscrossed the di Sirena estate and was soon cursing herself for not bringing a hat. She used pools of shadow wherever she could, but the sun burned hotter by the second.
At first she was so absorbed by her work she had no time to think about anything else. Then she became aware that she was not alone. Wherever she went, Count Dario di Sirena was never far away. She spotted his horse tethered beside the olive press just after she left, then later she saw him approaching the dairy as she was heading away into the hills.
It’s nothing but coincidence, she thought.
Although coincidence couldn’t quite explain the sudden shiver she got every time their paths crossed.
Dario thought that going out for a ride would give him some much needed space and time in his schedule to think. It worked—but not in the way he expected. The still, silent images of Josie observing him from her window, or waving to him as he left home the night before, kept creeping into his mind. He couldn’t puzzle out exactly what it was about her that attracted him, but it wasn’t for want of opportunity. It seemed that wherever he went today, there she was. She popped up in the most unlikely places, from the hay store to the olive press. After a while it began to make Dario feel slightly uncomfortable. He might have thought he was being stalked, but for one thing. Instead of following him, Josie always managed to be one step ahead. It was as though she was reading his mind and anticipating his movements. He snorted with derision. The idea was ridiculous—but it didn’t stop him thinking about it. Usually he was never in any doubt about anything, but Josie was definitely having an effect on him.
From her tightly drawn ponytail right down to the steel toecaps of her sensible work boots, Dr Josie Street meant business. That made her almost unique, in Dario’s experience. Her furious blush when he’d explained about the champagne was the closest he got to an unguarded moment, and she barely said a thing even then. It was such a refreshing change from the endless, meaningless chatter poured into his ears at parties every night. Unless something was worth saying Josie kept quiet. Everything about her felt so calm, so stable and so right. So why did she always manage to put him on edge? Dario shook such thoughts away and decided it was definitely time to take command of the situation.
When Josie found herself drawn to a shady glade, she didn’t consider there was anything mysterious about it—to begin with. It was simply her desperate need to get out of the heat and dazzling sun. Spotting the glitter of water in a forested depression overlooking the castello, she headed straight for it. There wasn’t time to enjoy the view as she slithered down a steep rough bank, desperate to reach the cool green depths of the woodland below. Only when she plunged between the gnarled sweet chestnuts, ash trees and birches could she catch her breath and take stock of her surroundings.
As her eyes became accustomed to the cool gloom, a voice drifted through the trees towards her.
‘Ciao, Josie.’
Dario had looped the reins of his horse over the low branch of a tree and was crouched beside it. He looked like a magnificent animal poised to spring—but in his hand he held a delicate, wide-brimmed straw hat.
‘You made me jump!’
‘I intended to.’ He grinned. ‘You didn’t take any notice of my warning about sunstroke, so I’ve come to make you see sense.’
‘You seem to appear everywhere I go today,’ she said suspiciously.
He stood up and walked towards her, offering the hat.
‘I could say the same thing about you. Everywhere I go, you’re there ahead of me. I got my staff to look out one of Antonia’s hats for you. She won’t mind—but I would be very disappointed if you refused this as well as my champagne, Josie.’ He smiled.
The sight of Dario dominating the glade was almost enough to rob her of the power of speech. Although he was so tall and well built, he moved almost silently across the forest floor towards her. With his raven dark hair and beautifully honed body accentuated by his white shirt and dark trousers, Josie was reminded again of a panther stalking its prey. Realising what was likely to happen to her resolve if she didn’t keep Dario at a distance, she tried to put up a strong defence.
‘I notice you’re not wearing a hat yourself.’ Her voice was uncertain with nerves.
‘I’m used to the sun—although you’re quite right. Experience isn’t a licence to take risks. I make sure I keep to the shade wherever possible, as much for Ferrari’s sake as mine.’ He tipped his head towards where his bay horse was quietly pulling at some succulent undergrowth. ‘I’ve been exploring these hills all my life, so I know the best places,’ he said with a gleam in his eyes. ‘For instance, did you know this pool has a secret? We’re being watched.’
Crooking his index finger, he beckoned her towards the water’s edge.
‘When we were children, Antonia used to love being scared by the monster that lives behind that curtain of leaves up there.’ He pointed to where greenery hung down over the source of a waterfall tumbling into the pool. ‘She used to dare me to pull it back, then she’d run away screaming when I did.’
Josie watched the water splashing down from beneath heavy curtains of fern and ivy. It escaped over bare wet rocks to send ripples dancing out over the clean, clear water.
‘There doesn’t look to be anything to be scared of.’
Dario chuckled. ‘You say that now, but when you’re six years old an ancient carved face hidden among the rocks can seem very scary. Local legend says it’s Etruscan, but an expert like you would need to check it out to make certain. Antonia has never got around to it.’
Josie’s eyes lit up. ‘Now you’ve got me interested.’
‘I knew I would.’ His smile widened mischievously. ‘So—what do you say? Would you dare to come with me now and take a look?’
Josie couldn’t answer. She was studying the pool. It had been edged with wide stones, but everything was now worn with age and green with algae. It looked treacherous. Dario was already striding around the perimeter to the other side and calling across the water to her.
‘I’ll go first. Look, it’s perfectly safe—but, if you’re nervous, you’ll get a better view if you stand over there, beside that nearest alder …’
Josie had dropped her bag and reached his side before he finished speaking. Her fear of being thought not up to a task was greater than her fear of the water, until she saw where she would have to walk. The path to the spring’s source was narrow and cut into solid rock. In places, water splashed and played over it as though from a hose.
Edging along, she followed as close behind Dario as she dared. As he crossed the wettest place she took a step forward, felt her foot slip and caught her breath