He cut across her wavering protest. ‘A courtesy, just to say hello. He was really impressed with the food tonight.’
‘Does he not live here?’
‘No, he stepped aside from the day-to-day running a few years ago. He currently lives in Florence, so now I’m the one paying your wages.’
‘How much?’
A raw laugh was wrenched from his throat. ‘You didn’t read that page?’
‘I didn’t see much point. This is blackmail, not a job, so I didn’t think I could really negotiate my salary.’
His head reared back, an expression of hauteur spreading across his lean face.
‘You’reoffended?’ she cried incredulously. ‘Sorry, but it’s the truth! If you must know, I hadn’t thought about it; you’re paying the salary of my replacement at the food truck, so I assumed…’
‘What, that you could just sit back, whip up an omelette and wait for this to be over? You will earn your pay.’
Outraged at the suggestion that she wouldn’t, her golden-brown eyes sparked. ‘I amnotwork-shy.’
‘I had noticed that.’
His dry response mollified her slightly. ‘So when is thisaudiencewith your grandfather?’ As much as she disliked the idea, she couldn’t see any way around it.
His expressive lips quirked at her choice of words. ‘We should be able to do the tour first.’
‘We?’ she said warily.
‘I will give you the tour, then introduce you to my grandfather.’
‘I could wander around on my own—’
‘And get lost.’
‘I happen to have an excellent sense of direction,’ she lied. ‘But fine, I’ll do the tour. Go for it, show me all the things I missed out on, rub my nose in it…’
‘What the hell are you talking about?’
She raised one well-defined brow. ‘Oh, come off it, Leo. I may be dim enough to let Dad dupe me, but I’m not that dim. This is obviously part of your payback; you want to show me the life that could have been mine, had I stayed with you. The thing is, even if I had gone with you, we likely wouldn’t be together now. Have you seen the statistics on young marriage?’
‘I don’t recall ever proposing.’
Swallowing the urge to weep because he’d probably like it if she did, she shrugged. ‘True, we weren’t that foolish, but you know what I mean.’
As he finally stepped aside, Amy virtually threw herself into the room but, before she could close the door on him, he brushed past her and went inside. She took a deep breath and turned slowly to face him.
‘I don’t need a guided tour of my room—’ She stopped mid-sentence, her stunned gaze moving around the room, even though her initial thought was that it was a mistake.
This was not a bedroom, but a sitting room. A further internal door was open and she could make out an elegant antique pale wooden half tester bed hung with pretty drapes.
This room had a feminine vibe too, the furniture a blend of antique and high-end modern. The pale linen upholstery on the comfortable-looking sofas was brightened by an eclectic selection of cushions. Similarly, the rugs on the polished wooden floor provided vivid splashes of colour, as did the antique rugs, probably too precious to walk on, glowing against the stone walls. She tracked the gorgeous scent that filled the room to the antique bowl set in the carved open fireplace that held lavender and roses.
She hadn’t been expecting…this.
‘This is beautiful,’ she said, wandering across the polished boards of the floor to the open doorway of the bedroom, her expression one of genuine pleasure.
‘Right, so you were thinking more a dusty attic and slave labour; that explains your decision to spend half the night outside the door picking a fight with me.’
‘I was not picking a fight. I waswinninga fight.’ She paused. Actually, they had been talking; she had not expected that being here would involve so much talking. ‘And, besides, you were…’
