The Truth Behind his Touch. Cathy Williams

on the button in that area.’

      ‘How would you know, when you haven’t seen him for over a decade?’

      Giancarlo thought of the way Alberto had short changed his mother and his lips curled cynically. ‘Let’s move away from that contentious area, shall we? And let’s focus on one or two interesting things I unearthed.’ He sat back as cold drinks were placed in front of them, along with a plate of delicate little tortas and pastries. ‘By the way, help yourself …’ He gestured to the dish of pastries and cakes and was momentarily sidetracked when she pulled her side plate in front of her and piled a polite mound, but a mound nevertheless, of the delicacies on it.

      ‘You’re actually going to eat all of those?’ he heard himself ask, fascinated against his will.

      ‘I know, I shouldn’t really. But I’m starving.’ Caroline sighed at the diet which she had been planning for ages and which had yet to get underway. ‘You don’t mind, do you? I mean … they’re not just here for show, are they?’

      ‘No, di niente.’ He sat back and watched as she nibbled her way through the pastries, politely leaving one, licking the sweet crumbs off her fingers with enjoyment. A rare sight. The stick-thin women he dated pushed food round their plates and would have recoiled in horror at the thought of eating anything as fattening as a pastry.

      Of course, he should be getting on with what he wanted to say, but he had been thrown off course and he still was when she shot him an apologetic smile. There was an errant crumb at the side of her mouth and just for an instant he had an overwhelming urge to brush it off. Instead, he gestured to her mouth with his hand.

      ‘I always have big plans for going on a diet.’ Caroline blushed. ‘Once or twice I actually did, but diets are deadly. Have you ever been on one? No, I bet you haven’t. Well, salads are all well and good, but just try making them interesting. I guess I just really love food.’

      ‘That’s … unusual. In a woman. Most of the women I meet do their best to avoid the whole eating experience.’

      Of course he would be the type who only associated with model types, Caroline thought sourly. Thin, leggy women who weighed nothing. She wished she hadn’t indulged her sweet tooth. Not that it mattered because, although he might be good-looking—well, staggering, really—he wasn’t the sort of man she would ever go for. So what did it matter if he thought that she was overweight and greedy into the bargain?

      ‘You were saying something about Alberto’s financial affairs?’ She glanced down at her watch, because why on earth should he have the monopoly on precious time? ‘It’s just that I leave tomorrow morning and I want to make sure that I get through as much as possible before I go.’

      Giancarlo was, for once in his life, virtually lost for words. Was she hurrying him along?

      ‘I think,’ he asserted without inflection, ‘that your plans will have to take a back seat until I’m finished.’

      ‘You haven’t told me whether you’ve decided to put the past behind you and accompany me back to Lake Como.’ She didn’t know why she was bothering to ask the question because it was obvious that he had no such intention.

      ‘So you came here to see me for the sole purpose of masterminding a jolly reunion …’

      ‘It wasn’t my idea.’

      ‘Immaterial. Getting back to the matter in hand, the fact is that Alberto’s company accounts show a big, gaping black hole.’

      Caroline frowned because she genuinely had no idea what he was talking about.

      ‘Si,’ Giancarlo imparted without a shade of regret as he continued to watch her so carefully that she could feel the colour mounting in her cheeks. ‘He has been leaking money for the past ten years but recently it’s become something more akin to a haemorrhage …’

      Caroline gasped and stared at him in sudden consternation. ‘Oh my goodness. Do you think that that’s why he had the heart attack?’

      ‘I beg your pardon?’

      ‘I didn’t think he took an active interest in what happened in the company. I mean, he’s been pretty much a recluse since I came to live with him.’

      ‘Which would be how long ago?’

      ‘Several months. Originally, I only intended to come for a few weeks, but we got along so well and there were so many things he wanted me to do that I found myself staying on.’ She fixed anxious brown eyes on Giancarlo, who seemed sublimely immune to an ounce of compassion at the news he had casually delivered.

      ‘Are you … are you sure you’ve got your facts right?’

      ‘I’m never wrong,’ he said drily. ‘It’s possible that Alberto hasn’t played an active part in running his company for some time now. It’s more than possible that he’s been merrily living off the dividends and foolishly imagining that his investments are paying off.’

      ‘And what if he only recently found out?’ Caroline cried, determined not to become too over-emotional in front of a man who, she knew, would see emotion in a woman as repellent. Besides, she had cried on him yesterday. She still had the handkerchief to prove it. Once had been bad enough but twice would be unforgivable.

      ‘Do you think that that might have contributed to his heart attack? Do you think that he became so stressed that it affected his health?’ Horribly rattled at that thought, she distractedly helped herself to the last pastry lying uneaten on her plate.

      ‘No one can ever accuse me of being a gullible man, Signorina Rossi.’ Giancarlo was determined to stick to the script. ‘One lesson I’ve learnt in life is that, when it comes to money, there will always be people around who are more than happy to scheme their way into getting their hands on some of it.’

      ‘Yes. Yes, I suppose so. Whatever. Poor Alberto. He never mentioned a word and yet he must have been so worried. Imagine having to deal with that on your own.’

      ‘Yes. Poor Alberto. Still, whilst poring over these findings, it occurred to me that your mission here might very well have been twofold.’

      ‘The doctor said that stress can cause all sorts of health problems.’

      ‘Focus, signorina!’

      Caroline fell silent and looked at him. The sun wafting through the pane of glass made his hair look all the more glossy. She vaguely noticed the way it curled at the collar of his shirt. Somehow, it made him look very exotic and very European.

      ‘Now are you with me?’

      ‘There’s no need to talk down to me!’

      ‘There’s every need. You have the most wandering mind of anyone I’ve ever met.’

      Caroline shot him a look of simmering resentment and added ‘rude’ to the increasingly long list of things she didn’t like about him.

      ‘And you are the rudest person I’ve ever met in my entire life!’

      Giancarlo couldn’t remember the last time anyone had ever dared to insult him to his face. He didn’t think it had ever happened. Rather than be sidetracked, however, he chose to overlook her offensive remark.

      ‘It occurred to me that my father’s health, if your story about his heart attack is to be believed, might not be the primary reason for your visit to Milan.’

      ‘If my story is to be believed?’ She shook her head with a puzzled frown. ‘Why would I lie about something like that?’

      ‘I’ll answer a question with a question—why would my father suddenly choose now to seek me out? He had more than one opportunity to get in touch. He never bothered. So why now? Shall I put forward a theory? He’s wised up to the fact that his wealth has disappeared down the proverbial tubes and has sent you to check out the situation. Perhaps he told you that, if I seemed amenable to the idea