Maybe he wanted more from this relationship too. His interest, his tenderness were real and there in every generous gesture, every caress.
She’d never felt so special.
There was sexual excitement and fulfilment but more too. Understanding and support. Laughter and a listening ear. Trust and companionship. Tenderness and consideration.
She wasn’t ready to give it up.
All the more reason to talk with him properly today. To be open, tell him about her life and plans and see if there was a chance their relationship might progress. She kept fantasising about him in her life long-term. About a relationship that grew and strengthened. About feelings stronger than lust and liking.
She’d shied from putting a name to what she felt but it grew too big to ignore.
She turned and went to grab her swimsuit and a beach towel. She needed to be with Gio.
Inside, she heard a buzzing and followed it to the security console. A camera at the gate showed a man holding a package. ‘Delivery for—’
‘Wait there. I’ll come out.’
She didn’t want to let in a stranger. It was possible her brother had located her in Rome. Could he have found her here?
Her heart pounded as she approached the gates. She didn’t recognise the courier.
‘I’ll need a signature,’ the stranger said as he held a mobile device through the gate’s bars.
Stella scrawled a deliberately unreadable signature and a second later he pushed a large, thick envelope between the bars of the gate. It caught and held but she tugged it free.
Instantly the courier turned away, hurrying to his vehicle, more interested in his tight schedule than her.
A shaky sigh escaped. Her family couldn’t have found her here. Even if they had, what could they do? Once her brothers’ bruising disapproval and her father’s domineering ways might have weighed heavily. But this time with Gio had reinforced her decision to make a stand against their pressure.
She was halfway back to the house when she glanced down to see the envelope had torn when pushed through the gate.
Her steps faltered.
Dimly she heard a motor start, the courier leaving. She blinked and spun around, about to call him back and tell him he’d delivered his package to the wrong place.
Except this was no mistake.
She’dmade the mistake.
It was clear and unmistakable.
Express to Signor Giancarlo Valenti
Villa Rosa
There on the gate was a discreet plaque: Villa Rosa. If the address weren’t enough, there was that other word, visible where the envelope had ripped open.
Barbieri.
The world stopped. Stella held her breath, knowing everything was about to change. Her rosy sense of well-being and her eager, half-formed hopes centred on the man who’d brought her here. The one man she’d trusted.
Suddenly time sped up again. Her breath hissed and the bulky envelope hit the ground, released from numb fingers.
Stella didn’t move but stared at the Manila envelope, transfixed as if it were a deadly viper.
Giancarlo Valenti.
The man her father hated. Because Valenti hotels challenged his commercial interests, their prestige and profits often outstripping his own. But his hatred wasn’t just about business. It was deeper and utterly personal. If the Valenti name was mentioned the change in Alfredo was frightening. Her brothers had whispered about a vendetta older than she was.
