Swept Away!: Accidentally Expecting! / Salzano's Captive Bride / Hawaiian Sunset, Dream Proposal. Lucy Gordon

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      Dante himself didn’t seem at all tired, and was clearly in such blazingly good health that she wondered if she was crazy to be watching out for him. He had a fund of funny stories which he directed at her over dinner, reducing her to tears of laughter, after which he would take her hand to lead her upstairs to their separate rooms, kiss her on the cheek and bid her goodnight.

      No man could have behaved more perfectly. No man could have been more restrained and polite. No man could have been more infuriating.

      For this she’d turned down the chance of a lifetime?

      Mick Gregson hadn’t been pleased.

      ‘What were you thinking of?’ he’d bawled down the phone. ‘This man carries influence in film land. If he’d liked your work, you could have done anything you wanted.’

      But I’m doing what I want, had been her silent thought.

      ‘Ferne, I can’t go on representing you if you’re going to act like this.’

      ‘That’s your decision, Mick, and of course I respect it.’

      They had parted bad friends.

      Now she was on the road with a man who’d promised ‘just friendly’, and who seemed infuriatingly determined to keep his word.

      There was no justice.

      But one thing had changed—now she understood the true reason for Dante’s restraint. He wouldn’t make advances to her because his personal code of honour forbade him to ask for love when he might die without warning.

      Here was the explanation for the way he slipped quickly in and out of relationships, never getting too close to any woman. It was his way of being considerate.

      And he was right, she assured herself. If she wanted more from him, that was her problem.

      ‘Where do we go next?’ she asked as they turned north again, leaving Calabria behind.

      ‘A place near Rome that I’ve promised to take a look at. There are some two-thousand-year-old ruins, plus a huge villa that the owner insists on calling a palazzo, that’s “only” six centuries old. It may not be easy to shift.’

      ‘If it’s antique and historical, won’t the atmosphere of romance help to sell it?’

      ‘An atmosphere of romance is all very well in theory, but people tend to want decent plumbing as well. I know the owner, Gino Tirelli, and he assures me that it’s in a good state of repair—but he might, just possibly, be biased. Luckily I’m not due there until next week, so we can give ourselves a few days by the sea.’

      ‘That sounds lovely. This heat is really getting to me.’

      ‘Of course, we could always go sight-seeing in Rome. There are some really interesting historical buildings.’

      ‘The sea, the sea,’ she begged faintly.

      He laughed. ‘The sea it is, then. Let’s go.’

      A few hours’ driving brought them to the Lido di Ostia, the beach resort about fifteen miles from Rome. It was a sunny place of level, pale-yellow sands that were adorned not only with umbrellas and loungers but the other trappings of civilization: wine bars and cafés.

      Their hotel was close to the sea with a view over the ocean.

      ‘They’ve got single and double rooms available,’ Dante told her after a talk at the desk. ‘A double room’s cheaper.’ In reply to her raised eyebrows, he said, ‘How long can a man behave perfectly?’

      ‘I think I can afford a single room.’

      ‘You don’t give an inch, do you?’

      ‘You’d better believe it,’ she said, laughing.

      Not for the world would she have admitted her relief that his defences were finally crumbling.

      The hotel had a shop that sold beach items. She lingered over a bikini that—for a bikini—was relatively modest, and a respectable one-piece. Dante eyed her hopefully as she hovered between them.

      ‘Why don’t you try it?’ he suggested, indicating the one-piece.

      She was slightly surprised that he urged her to try the modest garment rather than the revealing one. Afterwards, she realised that she should have been more suspicious.

      In the dressing-room she donned the costume, regarded herself in the mirror and sighed. It was elegant and showed off her figure, but didn’t do her total justice. No one-piece could have done that. But, until she was sure how far along this road she was going to let Dante whirl her, she couldn’t risk being a tease. That wouldn’t be fair to him.

      Nor was it fair on her, she realised, trying to calm the pleasure that fizzed through her as she thought of his eyes dwelling on her nearly naked body. It wasn’t the only pleasure she was denying herself right now, and soon she must decide why.

      She dressed again and went out, handing the costume to the assistant for wrapping. ‘I’ll take this.’

      ‘I’ve already paid for it,’ Dante said, whisking it out of her hand and putting it into a bag he was carrying. ‘Now, let’s be off.’

      ‘I can’t let you pay for my clothes,’ she said as they crossed the road to the beach. ‘It wouldn’t be proper.’

      ‘If we’re going to have another discussion about propriety, I’d rather do it later over champagne.’

      ‘Oh, all right.’

      The sand was glorious, soft and welcoming. He hired a hut, two loungers and a huge umbrella, then handed her the bag with her purchase and stood back to let her enter the hut first.

      When she opened the bag, she was reminded that this man was a talented schemer.

      ‘They’ve given me the wrong costume,’ she said, going outside again. ‘Look.’ She held up the bikini. ‘But I don’t see how it happened. I saw you put the other one into the bag.’

      ‘I guess this one must have already been in there,’ he said, eyes wide and innocent.

      ‘But how…?’ Light dawned and she stared at him indignantly. ‘You didn’t?’

      ‘If you’ve learned anything about me, you know that I did,’ he said unanswerably. ‘I bought the bikini while you were in the changing room.’

      ‘But how dare you?’

      ‘A case of necessity. You were going to buy that middle-aged thing that doesn’t do you justice, so I paid for them both and slipped the bikini into the bag before you came out.’

      ‘But what about the one I chose? Where is it?’

      ‘No idea. It must have escaped.’

      ‘You—you devious—’

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