The Redemption of Rico D'Angelo. Michelle Douglas

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      ‘What I was thinking was a lovely big property where you could run about to your heart’s content, and...’

      He didn’t stop barking. He no longer looked at her, just barked and barked. Her chopping slowed. She glanced at him again. In fact, he seemed to be barking at a point behind her and—

      Her nape prickled. In the reflection of the window, something moved.

      Whirling around, she held the knife out in front of her, every muscle tensed and readied.

      A broad male figure loomed in the kitchen doorway. Adrenaline flooded her. Her heart clawed up into her throat. She gripped the knife harder.

      The figure raised his hands very slowly in a gesture of non-aggression and then he backed all the way down the hallway and out of her house until he stood on the other side of her screen door. Only then did her pounding brain recognise who it was that stood on the other side. Rico D’Angelo. Her new boss.

      Her heart didn’t stop hammering. Her hands didn’t unclench.

      Rico raised a hand and knocked. She didn’t hear it. Undoing her fist enough to reach out, she turned off the radio. ‘Quiet, Monty!’

      Amazingly, the animal obeyed her.

      ‘Neen, I’m sorry I frightened you.’

      She suddenly realised she was still holding the knife. With burning eyes she threw it into the sink. She gripped her hands together at her waist and tried to stop their shaking, tried to swallow the lump lodged in her throat. The lump dislodged itself to settle in her chest.

      ‘Mr D’Angelo.’ The shaking wouldn’t stop. ‘I...uh...come in.’

      He shook his head. ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea. I just wanted to drop this off.’ He held up a sheaf of papers.

      Monty promptly started barking again and her head throbbed in time with each booming sound. God, how to explain? She pressed her shaking fingers to her temples.

      ‘How about a walk? I take it that’s Monty, there? It sounds as if he could do with one.’

      Gradually, little by little, her heart rate started to slow. ‘I’m sure you’re busy.’

      ‘I dropped by so we could discuss a few things and to get your signature on the contract.’

      The normality of their conversation after her over-the-top reaction finally returned her pulse to normal.

      ‘I know I should’ve rung first, but I had an appointment in the area so I thought I’d drop by on the off-chance you’d be home.’

      She needed to get out of the house. She needed to find a sense of equilibrium again. ‘If you’re sure you have the time?’

      ‘I have the time.’

      ‘I’ll just get Monty’s leash.’

      She clipped the lead to Monty’s collar, led him through the house and locked her front door. She averted her gaze from the carport opposite and her car, with its four slashed tyres. She hoped her enigmatic employer hadn’t noticed them. She bit back an oath, her hand tightening on Monty’s lead. Mr D’Angelo must think he’d employed an utter fruitcake!

      ‘I’m pleased you accepted the position of café manager, Neen. I have great hopes for the café and I know you’re the perfect person to head this up.’

      His smile was too kind, too compassionate...too knowing. His tone too well modulated. She bit back a sigh. ‘You saw the tyres, didn’t you?’

      Monty chose that moment to try and yank her arm out of its socket. Without a word, Rico reached across and took the lead from her. He smelled of cold air and peppermint.

      ‘It happened today?’

      She folded her arms and nodded. ‘Which begs the question, why was I so careless as to leave the front door unlocked, doesn’t it?’

      ‘Monty?’

      She bit back a sigh. ‘It was all I could do to stay on my feet when I returned from the supermarket. Monty is always so...so delighted to see me.’ She could have sworn that she’d locked the screen door, but she mustn’t have. So foolish.

      She closed her eyes and hauled in a breath. Ever since she’d received the news that Grandad’s will was being contested, her head had been in turmoil. Not to mention her heart. Her concentration was shot to pieces. It had to stop! She had to start paying attention again. She had to.

      ‘Have you reported the incident to the police?’

      ‘Yes.’ She swallowed and risked glancing up at him. ‘Mr D’Angelo, I’m very sorry for...um...’ Her stomach churned. What if she had stabbed him? ‘I’m a bit jumpy at the moment.’

      She made him stop when they reached the end of the block.

      ‘Monty, sit.’ The dog stared up at her with his big dopey eyes. She made a hand signal. ‘Sit.’ He continued to stare at her. She folded her arms and looked away. Eventually he sat. ‘Good boy.’

      She fondled his ears and then nodded to Rico. They set off across the road and then turned right towards the park and Bellerive beach.

      ‘He’s improving,’ she murmured, more for something to say than anything else.

      ‘Look, Neen, I’m the one who should apologise. I shouldn’t have come in like I did and I’m sorry I startled you.’

      His eyes were dark, almost black. She didn’t doubt his sincerity for a moment.

      ‘I knocked and knocked, and I could see you at the end of the hallway. I called out...’

      ‘But between Monty and the radio—’ and her own too-busy thoughts ‘—I couldn’t hear you. It’s not your fault, Mr D’Angelo. You don’t need to apologise.’

      ‘Rico,’ he ordered.

      The name suited him in one respect, with his dark Italian good looks, but Rico sounded breezy and carefree. She wasn’t sure she’d ever meet anyone less carefree in her life. He was a man on a mission—an important mission. And, like most do-gooding types with a quest to save the world, he carried that world around on his shoulders.

      They might be broad shoulders, but nobody could carry around that kind of weight forever.

      He suddenly stopped and swung to her. Monty strained on the lead. It could pull her completely off balance, but it barely seemed to register with Rico.

      ‘Look, I couldn’t help noticing that yours were the only tyres slashed. Is something up, Neen? Is there something I ought to know?’

      A weight pressed down on her chest when she realised she’d have to tell him—in the interests of his staff’s safety. It grew heavier when it occurred to her that in their interests he might in fact retract his job offer.

      For a moment she could hardly speak. The sun that glinted off the expanse of water in front of СКАЧАТЬ