Alessandro's Prize. HELEN BIANCHIN

fact that he had disturbed her more than she was prepared to admit. Why seemed a logical query, for which she had no sensible answer.

      Lily was ready at the appointed time, attired in tailored black trousers, a fine red cashmere sweater beneath a tailored black jacket, with comfortable black flats on her feet.

      Alessandro’s sleek black car slid to a halt adjacent the entrance, and it appeared he’d chosen comfort over formality, given the absence of a tie, the few top buttons of his shirt open, to which he’d added a butter-soft leather black jacket.

      It gave him a rakish look, one he wore with remarkable ease, she perceived as he greeted Sophia before turning towards Lily.

      ‘Shall we leave?’

      Sophia was right, Lily determined as Alessandro drove into the hills to a vantage point where the splendid vista of lakes stretched north to the snow-capped mountains in the distance.

      Below there were clutches of villages nestling close to the lakes; villas with terracotta roof tiles providing colour among the tree-clad hills, the calm blue-grey waters where a few speedboats towed water-skiers and two jetskis left plumes of white spray behind them.

      ‘Como produces a large percentage of Europe’s silk,’

      Alessandro revealed. ‘We will visit the Museo della Seta, and La Tessitura, a store owned by a leading designer of luxury silk.’ He gestured to the panoramic scenery. ‘There is so much history here.’

      ‘Relative serenity, should one choose it,’ Lily conceded. ‘And the advantage of its proximity to Milan.’

      Italy was the country of her birth and she had a strong inclination to stay a while. There was an instinctive desire to rediscover her roots, to enjoy the land, its people. Whatever life chose to offer.

      She stifled a reflective sigh. She could live here, enjoy the ambience … the lifestyle, the food, Sophia … It was tempting, and she had nothing to lose.

      There were so many places of interest, the stunning villas and their history.

      ‘Were you born in Milan?’ The query emerged from her lips without thought, and she bore his brief glance before he returned his attention to the road.

      ‘According to my birth certificate.’

      ‘Your parents moved around a lot?’

      ‘It depends on your interpretation of the word.’

      Lily was silent for several seconds. ‘That bad?’

      And then some. Memories, images that would remain with him for the rest of his time on this earth.

      ‘I managed to survive.’

      She looked at him carefully. ‘But not easily.’

      Not on the right side of the law … until Giuseppe dalla Silvestri had provided an opportunity for a new life.

      ‘I was fortunate to be born into a loving family,’ she offered quietly when he didn’t answer. ‘Caring parents who gifted me a great childhood, insisting I had a good education and the advantage of extending my studies overseas. My life,’ she added. ‘Encapsulated in two sentences.’

      ‘You left out the ex-fiancé.’

      ‘Intentionally.’

      ‘A closed subject?’

      ‘For now.’ She shot him a perceptive glance. ‘As I imagine you regard details of your youth.’

      A wry smile curved his generous mouth.

      A man who guarded his privacy, she perceived, and couldn’t fault him for it. She wasn’t exactly comfortable relaying every little detail about her broken engagement.

      It took time and a vast degree of trust to bare one’s soul.

      Maybe one day … Where did that come from? Alessandro wouldn’t become part of her life, any more than she would form part of his own.

      He was merely being kind to Sophia’s niece … yet there was the unbidden thought that Carlo could easily have acted as guide and companion.

      ‘I hope taking time from the office isn’t intruding on your workload.’

      Alessandro eased the powerful car to a halt at a vantage point and closed the engine.

      The view, magnificent as it was, only briefly held her attention as he shifted in his seat to face her, and suddenly the space inside the car seemed too confined. For his attention was no longer focused on negotiating the snakelike roads winding through the hills.

      ‘Concern for my business interests, Lily?’

      There was a teasing quality to his slightly accented voice that curled round her nerve-ends and heightened her awareness of him. The fine lines fanning out from the outer corners of his eyes; the faint groove slashing each cheek; his generous mouth, which momentarily trapped her gaze.

      What was with the sudden temptation to lightly explore it? Trace its curve with her fingers … more, reach forward and touch his lips with her own. Almost as if some inner force was in play.

      It hardly made sense, yet it was there, a hidden magnetic quality she fought hard to dismiss.

      ‘I’m sure you possess a coterie of highly qualified staff eminently capable of handling whatever needs to be handled,’ she managed lightly. ‘As well as the latest device in communication technology to enable instant contact if need be.’

      His expression was impossible to determine, and her eyes widened as he trailed light fingers along the edge of her jaw, cupped it and pressed a thumb to her lower lip.

      Did hearts stop? It felt as if her own did. Certainly she consciously ceased breathing for several timeless seconds, locked in mesmerized fascination as he leant in close and brushed his lips to her temple.

      His scent teased her senses, stirring them alive, and her mouth parted a little on a soundless sigh.