Her Sicilian Baby Revelation / The Greek's One-Night Heir. Natalie Anderson
returned from his walk nearly thirteen hours ago. Since they’d nearly kissed. Without Finn or his nurse’s physical presence to distract her, Orla found her awareness of Tonino becoming more than a distraction, throwing her back four years when she’d spent ten days with her entire being consumed by this one man.
‘Do you feel better now?’ he asked after he’d demolished the leftovers.
‘What do you mean?’
He shrugged nonchalantly. ‘Only that if looks could kill, the looks you were giving me on the plane over would have struck me dead.’
She had the grace to blush. Not looking at him, she muttered, ‘I just wanted to get home.’
He nodded musingly. ‘Of course. You were missing your home.’
‘Exactly.’
‘Have you lived here long?’
‘Four months.’ Orla, mortified that he’d picked up on her earlier bad mood, mustered something she hoped resembled a smile.
‘Dante bought it for you?’
‘Aislin bought it.’ She wasn’t about to explain that the money to purchase it had come via Dante paying her sister a million euros to pretend to be his fiancée for a weekend. Of course, Aislin and Dante had fallen in love over that weekend for real, but the lead-up to their falling in love was a private matter between the two of them. Having been the subject of gossip for the entirety of her life, it was not something Orla ever indulged in. ‘Dante paid for it to be made Finn-friendly.’
She finished her water and tried not to stare longingly at the remaining wine in the bottle. Alcohol, she was sure, would help her relax. Or, as was more likely, send her to sleep.
Relaxing in Tonino’s company was something that was going to take time. A lot of time.
Now that most of the memories of their time together had returned, she found herself replaying it. Much of it felt as vivid as if it had happened only days ago. She’d been relaxed with him then. She’d found an ease in his company she had never felt with anyone other than Aislin before. It had been as if a stranger she’d known for ever had walked into her life. A stranger who’d made her bones melt with nothing but a look.
It horrified her to find her bones still melted for him. Every time he reached for his glass and his muscles flexed beneath his shirt the baser part of her melted too. Every time she caught his eye her erratically thrumming heart would jolt. Her lips still tingled for the kiss that had never come.
‘You and Dante have only got to know each other recently, is that correct?’ he asked.
Lord help her but his voice melted her too.
She nodded. ‘I always knew about him, but he knew nothing of me. He had no idea he had a sister.’
‘Why didn’t you find him four years ago?’
‘I couldn’t go up to a stranger and say, Hello, I’m your long-lost sister, could I? It wouldn’t have been fair.’
He pulled a rueful face. ‘I suppose. So, tell me, was your real reason for being in Sicily to find your father?’
She gave another nod.
‘You’d never met him before?’
‘I wasn’t allowed.’
‘Why not?’
She shrugged. ‘I was his dirty little secret.’
He winced at her descriptor. ‘What changed? What spurred you into seeking him?’
‘I became an adult.’ She smiled wryly. ‘For the first time ever, I had a couple of weeks ahead of me with nothing to do. I woke up one morning and thought to myself that it’s now or never.’
‘Did you meet him?’
‘No. He was abroad when I visited on my first day there. I tried again when you went to Tuscany but I don’t remember what happened.’
‘So you might have met him?’
She shook her head. ‘Aislin always told me I didn’t.’ She took a deep breath. ‘I know it in my heart too. Every time I’ve thought of him since I’ve wanted to cry.’
Tonino stared at the downcast face with the lips pulled tightly together and his heart twisted. ‘Why didn’t you share this with me at the time? I could have helped you. My father and your father were old friends.’
‘How was I supposed to know that? You never told me who you really were.’ Her rebuke, although politely delivered, hit the mark.
‘We were lovers, Orla. You should have told me your real reason for being in my country.’
His mention of them having been lovers sent colour careering over her neck and cheeks. ‘Yes, well, you should have told me you actually owned the hotel rather than just managing it but there you are.’
‘There we are.’ He winced and mock saluted his agreement, admiring her quick, tart retort. The Orla sitting in front of him had a much sharper tongue than the Orla he remembered. ‘Two people who kept things close to their chests while still getting naked together.’
‘Don’t go there,’ she warned. The colour now flamed so brightly he could warm his hands on her face.
‘If we hadn’t gone there we would never have created Finn together.’ He downed the last of his wine and grinned.
She smiled sweetly, then, in a perfectly pitched saccharine voice, said, ‘And on that happy note, it’s time for you to leave.’
‘Are you kicking me out?’
‘There’s no food left and it’s late.’
‘Are you not worried I won’t have anywhere to stay?’
‘No. And you’re not staying here, if that’s what you’re trying to wrangle.’
‘I wouldn’t dream of it. But, please, let your mind rest easy—I have a place to stay.’
‘Good. Best you get going to it.’
‘Without an after-dinner coffee?’
‘Caffeine is the last thing I need.’
‘In that case I shall return early in the morning for it.’
‘If you turn up as early as you did this morning, the only thing you’ll get is a long wait on the doorstep.’
He got to his feet and gave another mock salute. ‘Until the morning.’
‘Are you still here?’
Grinning, Tonino let himself out. He’d reached his car when he heard the front door lock behind him.
‘You are possibly the most infuriating man in the world,’ Orla snapped when she opened the front door the next morning.
Tonino looked at his watch and gave an expression of such innocence that she had to bite her cheeks not to laugh out loud. ‘You told me not to come as early as I did yesterday.’
‘So you come half an hour later? Seriously? It’s seven o’clock.’
‘And you’re up and dressed and looking beautiful.’ She looked as fresh and as beautiful as the clear blue skies covering Dublin that morning. Dressed in a knee-length leaf-green jersey dress, her hair loose around her shoulders, her pretty green eyes enhanced with a touch of mascara, a brush of colour over the high cheekbones. Fresh, beautiful and damned irresistible.
One day soon, he vowed, Orla would open a door to him with a smile and greet him with a kiss rather than a scolding.
Late into the night he’d lain in his bed thinking back over their time together.