Сара Крейвен – It Happened In Rome: The Forced Bride / The Italian's Rags-to-Riches Wife / The Italian's Passionate Revenge (страница 11)

‘Believe me,’ Emily said truthfully, ‘I can hardly wait.’

The cottage was certainly worth waiting for, she thought, as she was ushered straight in through a front door which, Angus told her, was rarely, if ever, locked.

Well, it was the back of beyond, just as she’d hoped, she reminded herself. Her Scottish sanctuary, hundreds of miles from irate Italian millionaires.

It was a large room, comfortably furnished but not flash. Two big sofas upholstered in blue flowered chintz flanked the fireplace and there was a small dining table and two chairs under the window. None of the furniture was new, but it gleamed and there was a pleasing scent of polish in the air.

A curtained archway led to a small but well-equipped kitchen at the rear, with the promised welcome pack standing on one of the counter tops.

In addition, there was a flight of wooden stairs to the upper floor and a door in the corner which Angus said led down to the cellar, where the boiler and the coal bunker were both located.

He took her case upstairs and deposited it in the large front bedroom. Emily saw that there was a thick quilt in a green and white striped cover on the double bed and that the lace-edged pillows were crisply laundered. It looked so inviting that she almost ached.

There were sheepskin rugs on the wooden floor and plain curtains in the same green at the windows. There was also an elderly chest of drawers with a mirror above it and a walk-in cupboard with a hanging rail.

Opposite was a single room, chastely furnished in white, and at the end of the narrow landing was a small but serviceable bathroom with a deep old-fashioned tub and a hand shower.

It was all immaculately clean and shining, which made Angus’s Aunt Maggie a treasure. Pity she can’t sort out High Gables for Simon, she thought, and wondered if he was missing her, at the same time disturbingly aware that she’d hardly spared him a thought. That she’d been preoccupied with Raf instead, and to an absurd degree. Well, that would stop right now.

When she rejoined Angus downstairs, the fire was already crackling in the grate.

‘The kindling’s kept in the cellar, too, for dryness,’ he mentioned. ‘And the log store’s in a lean-to at the side of the house. There was a load delivered before Christmas, so don’t stint yourself. And it draws well, this fire, so it’s easy to light.

‘You’ll have no trouble finding the village, either,’ he continued. ‘Just keep walking downhill. Auntie’s shop is only open for papers tomorrow, because of the Sabbath. But, if you look in the fridge, you’ll find she’s left you a Sunday dinner, so you won’t starve. I’m afraid that’s extra,’ he added a touch awkwardly. ‘Is that all right?’

‘I’m truly grateful,’ Emily assured him. ‘Your aunt’s gone to a lot of trouble to make me welcome, and so have you.’

‘Och, think nothing of it.’ Angus stood up, dusting his hands. ‘Make sure you use the spark guard before you go to bed and you’ll be fine.’

‘I’m sure I will. I’ll just have a quick supper, then sleep off the journey.’

His smile warmed her again. ‘Then I’ll see you around.’

And he was gone, and she heard the Jeep disappearing down the track.

At last, there was nothing but silence. Emily stood for a moment, looking round her new domain with profound satisfaction.

It was settling in time. She would unpack, make her first meal, take her first bath, then let the stresses and strains of the past week slide away in that big, comfortable bed upstairs.

It felt chilly in the bedroom. She felt the radiator, but it was cold, as was the one in the bathroom. Presumably the heating worked on a timer and had switched itself off, she thought, putting away her clothes in double-quick time.

In the kitchen, she unloaded the groceries in the welcome pack. As Angus had indicated, there was a fresh chicken in the fridge, along with some carrots and a small cabbage.

But, for now, she would make do with a can of soup, and tomato at that, she thought, operating the ring-pull on the can. The ultimate comfort food.

When it was hot, she poured it into a large pottery mug and carried it into the living room. As she sat down one of the logs in the grate collapsed, making her jump, emphasising her awareness of the cottage’s isolation.

It seemed strange to have no real idea of the landscape outside the dark rectangle of window, she thought with sudden unease. Maybe it would help if she drew the thick woven cream curtains, closing out the darkness and the unknown together.

But this is what you wanted—a hiding place with total seclusion, she argued inwardly. So why be a wuss about it?

As she began tugging the heavy folds into place, she became aware of two things. That snowflakes were dancing in the air, just as Angus had predicted. And that she could hear the sound of an engine and see a pair of powerful headlights approaching the cottage.

Oh, God, she thought, groaning inwardly. Surely it wasn’t Angus paying another visit on some pretext. He didn’t seem the type to make a nuisance of himself because she was female and on her own, but how did she know? What did she know?

She would just have to make it perfectly plain that she didn’t need any kind of complication in her life. And, whatever he’d said earlier, she’d keep that damned door locked.

But, even as she turned to do so, she heard a vehicle door slam and footsteps approaching on the gravelled area just outside.

As the cottage door opened, she said breathlessly, ‘Whatever you have to say can wait until tomorrow. Now, I’d just like you to go.’

‘But how inhospitable of you, carissima,’ came the drawled reply. ‘Particularly when I have come so far to find you.’

And, as Emily halted in stunned disbelief, Raf Di Salis stepped into the lamplit room.

Emily couldn’t speak. She could hardly think. She just stood there, rooted to the spot, staring at him. Watching him strip off his gloves.

He can’t be here, she thought. It wasn’t possible for him to have found out her destination and followed her so quickly. Yet he was only too real.

There were snowflakes clinging to his dark hair and to the shoulders of the parka he was wearing and he was carrying a leather travel bag, which he allowed to drop to the floor with a thud that sounded ominously final.

‘Lost for words, mia bella?’ he asked, the hazel eyes raking her mercilessly. ‘How strange. You seemed eloquent enough when you spoke to my lawyers the other day. And very frank.’

Her throat closed in fright as she remembered every reckless word she’d thrown at them. His arrival had made the cottage seem suddenly smaller and more cramped. And there was a note of cold, quiet anger in his voice that made her shiver.

He noticed instantly. ‘You are cold, my angel? Forgive me.’ He kicked the door shut behind him. ‘So, Emilia, are you pleased with the cottage?’

She found her voice at last. ‘I was—until a moment ago.’ She took a deep breath. ‘What the hell are you doing here?’

‘I have come to talk to you, naturalmente,’ Raf said softly. ‘To discuss your recent ultimatum—among other things. I told you so in my letter. And you must have received it, or why would you be here?’

‘I came because I chose not to see you—not to have this conversation.’ She tried to keep her voice steady as her mind ran in crazy circles, trying desperately not to think what she was thinking. ‘As you must have known.’

He shrugged. ‘But that was not your choice to make.’ He unzipped his parka and tossed it across the back of a sofa. Underneath he was wearing a black roll-necked sweater and his long legs were encased in blue denim and tough-looking boots.

He too, it seemed, had dressed for bad weather—and a long stay. And a voice in her head was silently screaming, No…

‘I made my wishes clear to you, Emilia,’ he went on. ‘You should have listened.’

‘Ah,’ she said. ‘We’re back to the old obedience issue.’

‘There are a number of issues,’ he said. ‘In time, we shall deal with them all.’

‘No,’ she said angrily. ‘I came here to get away from you, as you’re clearly aware. Either you leave or I do.’

He walked to the door and opened it again. A flurry of snow blew in on a wind that seemed to come straight from the Arctic Circle. ‘Then go, mia cara. I hope you have a destination in mind, because it is not a night to be homeless.’

He paused. ‘Or you could be sensible and accept that this interview is inevitable. Which is it to be?’

There was a silence, then Emily turned away almost blindly, wrapping her arms round her body.

‘You are wise,’ he said and closed the door.

She said, ‘How did you know where I’d be?’

‘I think you already know the answer to that.’

She said fiercely, ‘I suppose you must have forced it out of poor Simon somehow.’

‘No force was needed,’ he said. ‘I have known about this house for a long time. My friends originally offered it to me for our honeymoon and I regret now that I did not accept.’ He looked round him appraisingly. ‘It is charming and ideally secluded, don’t you think?’

The sensation that she was standing on the edge of a precipice was so vivid that Emily almost swayed. She made her way to the sofa and sat down.