Italian Attraction. Lucy Gordon

couldn’t quite take this in. ‘You mean you suggested a total stranger living in her home and looking after her animals and she agreed without even seeing me?’

      ‘You are not a stranger to me, Maisie, and she trusts my judgement.’

      His judgement of her hadn’t been exactly flattering. Maisie eyed him suspiciously, wondering if she should speak her mind or find out more about this crazy idea—an idea which, she had to admit, she’d been stirred by the minute he’d voiced it. To get right away from everything for a while, to spend some time in the sun doing what she loved best in all the world—taking care of animals—sounded too good to be true. And when something sounded too good to be true, that was usually because it was. ‘How long are you thinking of?’ she asked carefully.

      ‘That is hard to say.’ He frowned thoughtfully. ‘My father is due to have heart surgery in the near future. If this is a success it will mean further time in hospital and a period of convalescence. It might be a matter of weeks or even a few months.’

      Maisie knew she couldn’t ask what would happen if the operation his father was to undergo wasn’t a success. Instead she said, ‘Surely he’ll convalesce at home?’

      Blaine shrugged. ‘Possibly, but your presence would still relieve my mother of taking care of the animals, which occupies a considerable amount of her time normally. Of course she could still ride if she wishes or take the dogs out, but this would be when she feels it is possible rather than because she has to. You understand? I must mention that your duties would not involve any housework or things of this nature; my mother has a very able but elderly housekeeper who has been with her since I was born. Unfortunately Liliana has no rapport with the animals in the house and is frankly terrified of the horses.’

      So she wouldn’t be totally alone in a strange country. Maisie’s mind was moving rapidly. And things like shopping and so on would be taken care of. Great, a few weeks minus carting a trolley round the local supermarket was a thumbs up. But how could she pay the rent on her bedsit in advance when she didn’t have two pennies to rub together? And did he mean that his mother would pay for her ticket to Italy and things of that nature? If all this had only been discussed hastily a few minutes ago, he probably wouldn’t know, anyway.

      Blaine disabused her of this notion in the next moment. ‘All travelling expenses would be taken care of,’ he said smoothly, ‘and of course you would receive an initial sum of money to take care of any bills or obligations here while you are away. Perhaps we could say until the beginning of September, for argument’s sake? And then, of course, you would be paid weekly or monthly—whichever you prefer—during your stay at my mother’s home.’

      This was happening much too fast. She felt as though she had been caught up in a whirlwind. ‘What … what if your mother doesn’t like me when she meets me?’ Maisie asked a trifle shakily.

      ‘Of course my mother will like you. You are a family friend, are you not?’

      His brother’s family, actually, and was she the only one here remembering that up until yesterday the two sections of the family had been estranged for umpteen years? Roberto and his father were still estranged, if it came to it. Her head was telling her she was mad to even consider this crazy idea. Her heart was saying she had done all the right things—had been sensible, steady, practical and down-to-earth—for all of her twenty-eight years on this planet and look where it had got her. Nowhere, that was where. And if it didn’t work out in Italy she could hightail it home and put it down to experience. Or hormones. Something, anyway.

      Another thought hit her and she really didn’t know how to even begin to voice this one. She had gathered that Blaine didn’t live with his parents, but how far away from the family home was he situated? The last thing she wanted was to run into him every day. She stared into the beautiful eyes which were watching her closely.

      No. She couldn’t ask. She would just have to hope his home wasn’t too close. That was when it dawned on her that she was going to go against everything her prudent nature—not to mention her mother—would advise and accept this ridiculous offer. And quickly, before he changed his mind. Just like the girl in the tube would have done. She wouldn’t have let such a crazy opportunity slip through her fingers without giving it a try.

      Maisie’s chin lifted fractionally. ‘If you’re sure your mother will be in agreement, then thank you,’ she said clearly. ‘I would like to look after her animals for as long as she thinks fit.’

      ‘Good.’ The greeny-blue eyes had been narrowed as they’d assessed her response but now his expression changed and his voice gentled as he said, ‘I am glad.’

      Three little words. Just three little words, so why did they have the power to send a sharp thrill of something she couldn’t name right down to her toes?

      ‘If you give me your mobile number I’ll call you when I have made the arrangements,’ he said smoothly.

      Ah. Slight problem there. ‘I’ve lost my mobile,’ she said shortly. To be precise, it had slipped from under her chin, where she’d been balancing it whilst talking and doing the washing-up, straight into the soapy suds. ‘But I’ll give you my home number.’

      ‘Fine.’ He smiled. ‘That is settled, then.’

      Maisie nodded even as a little voice in her head wondered what on earth she had let herself in for.

      CHAPTER THREE

      ‘YOU’RE going where? And to do what?’

      Susan Burns’s voice was shrill, and Maisie winced as she held the receiver further away from her ear. She had been expecting something like this, she told herself, and she didn’t have to justify her decision to her mother. She was a grown woman, not a schoolgirl. But everything was always a battle.

      From the moment her father had walked out on them when she was eight years old and her mother had had to assume the role of a single parent, she had tried to rule Maisie with a rod of iron. She had been that way with her husband to some extent; perhaps that was why he had decided enough was enough and had taken himself off to America, where he’d obtained a very good job in his specialised branch of microbiology, before being killed in a car accident just eighteen months after he’d left England.

      Most of the time Maisie went along with her mother’s demands, for an easy life, but there had been a few issues over which she’d dug her heels in. The first had been her decision not to apply for a degree course in one of the areas her mother had deemed suitable. The second had been to take up relatively low paid employment simply because she liked the work, and the third—over which her mother was still smarting —had been her resolution not to move up north when her mother had announced her plans to move to Sheffield three years ago. It had been high time to finally cut the umbilical cord. Maisie had seen it clearly, even though her mother had not and probably never would.

      ‘I’m going to Italy for a while to take care of some animals for a branch of Jackie’s family,’ Maisie repeated patiently. ‘It’s a good opportunity to get away and assess where I want to go from here. To take stock of my life.’

      Her mother snorted. She’d got it down to an art and it was the most irritating sound in the world. ‘You would be far better served to move up here with me and get a decent job. You’re too old to go gallivanting. Your Aunt Eva only said the other day that this thing with Jeff was probably a sign for you to be here with us all.

      Maisie was glad they weren’t connected by camera phone. ‘Us all’ meant her mother’s branch of the family, which consisted of three sisters and their families all living in and round about Sheffield. All her aunts were like her mother, and Maisie would have considered it hell on earth to be up there. She had made a rude face but now she took a deep breath and said evenly, ‘I don’t see it that way and, like I’ve said before, all my friends are here, Mum. I like living in London.’

      ‘Is that why you’re skedaddling off to Italy?’

      ‘I’m going for a couple of months