‘Because the yacht doesn’t answer back?’ she suggested.
‘Do I need a better reason?’ From the blackest of moods earlier in the day, she’d lifted him, and it was a relief to discover he could still tap into feelings.
‘I thought you were going to show me to my quarters?’ she prompted. ‘I sure as hell won’t find them by myself. All this for one man,’ she breathed in awe as they walked on.
‘And one opinionated woman,’ he added with an amused sideways look. ‘I think most people would sympathise and say I badly need space between us.’
‘Most people would sympathise with me, I think you’ll find,’ she countered with a cheeky smile.
He had the satisfaction of hearing her gasp when he opened a door leading into the burnished wood-panelled entrance to the suite of rooms he had chosen for Samia. ‘This is more like it,’ she exclaimed. ‘Forget bland. I can’t imagine anything more beautiful than this.’
‘All my brother’s design.’ The words came out awkwardly, clipped and emotion-free. He still found it hard to talk about Pietro and this suite had been his brother’s vision for guests on board theBlack Diamond.
Guests?Luca remembered asking Pietro.But this is a sailing boat.
And you should not be such a loner, Pietro had insisted.It’s not good for you, Luca...
In Pietro’s trademark style, everything in the suite Luca had chosen for Samia was lavish and flamboyant. There were jewel-coloured rugs beneath their feet, and intricate hangings on the wall above a vast, canopied bed that was almost a joke out at sea. Only the most exclusive and vivid fabrics had been used for soft furnishings, and to dress the windows... Silks, satin, velvet and chiffon, the latter billowing lazily in the sea breeze blowing in from the balcony. Acres of lovingly polished wood and brass complemented these lavish adornments, and the setting was further enhanced by paintings of sailing ships through the ages, and good-looking men in a variety of impeccable uniforms.
‘Your brother had great taste,’ Samia commented as she trailed her fingertips across the arm of a comfortable chair lavishly upholstered in a luxurious velvet tapestry.
‘He was a great one for history, and for design. Pietro could have had a great future ahead of him, had he not been a prince.’
‘But surely, being a princeisa great future?’
‘Not for Pietro.’ The words were wrenched out of him and each left a jagged wound. ‘Pietro always preferred a quiet life, out of the limelight. He enjoyed designing sets,’ he reminisced, thinking back to the childhood concerts Pietro had enjoyed putting on. ‘A quiet life was the only thing my brother craved, but that was not to be...’
Dragging his thoughts out of the past, he took a look around the suite again. It was every bit as grand and impressive as Samia thought it, though in his opinion the décor belonged in a museum, rather than a state-of-the-art sailing yacht that had been built to Luca’s design. But he and his brother had always enjoyed doing things together, and he had wanted Pietro to be part of this too...Dio!How he missed him.
‘You okay?’ Samia asked.
‘My brother was never a sailor,’ he explained, clinging to cold, hard facts. ‘Design was his strength and his passion.’
‘At which he excelled,’ Samia said frankly. ‘He had wonderful taste.’
Her tone was quiet and understanding, and lacked pity, which was more important, as it allowed him to say without betraying any emotion, ‘He was a wonderful man.’
‘And you loved him, as I’m sure Prince Pietro loved you.’
Where had she sprung from, this woman fate had placed in his way? When he looked at her, he thought back to previous guests with their artfully tousled hair and intricate make-up, bringing on board cabin trunks bulging with clothes, only to discover that nothing they’d brought with them was remotely suitable for a sailing yacht. Naturally, they ordered more at his expense, prompting deliveries from Paris, Rome and Milan to arrive at ports ahead of them. Much of this forgotten inventory still hung in protective covers in Samia’s dressing room.
‘There’s a swimming pool on board. Two, in fact,’ he revealed. ‘Feel free to use them.’
‘There’s one for your crew?’
‘There are two pools you can use.’
‘Wonderful...but I don’t have a costume with me.’
‘You’ll find some in your dressing room that have never been worn. Help yourself. At least one of them should fit.’
‘I’m not sure I’ll be swimming.’
Who could blame her for not being thrilled at the thought of wearing a previous guest’s clothes? ‘The costumes are brand new,’ he explained. ‘Don’t let pride get in your way. Consider anything you find in the dressing room a down payment for whatever job I decide you’ll do.’
‘I’d rather be paid a wage, if that’s all right. I’m not very good at taking handouts.’
‘So I remember,’ he said, remembering the ten-euro note she’d insisted on giving him for the hamburger and the water. ‘How about I pay you a wage too?’
