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breasts and the betraying hard peaks of her nipples.

      ‘You don’t need much persuading,’ he taunted. ‘I could take you right now, cara, and you wouldn’t stop me.’ His voice roughened. ‘How could you think I would treat you so disrespectfully?’

      ‘I’m sorry,’ Rebekah said thickly. She knew she owed him an explanation, but she had never told anyone what Gareth had done, not even her mum. She closed her eyes to prevent her tears from escaping, unaware that Dante had glimpsed the sparkle of moisture clinging to her lashes and that his anger had been replaced by a curious ache in his chest.

      She’d had no reason to think Dante would behave so crassly, Rebekah acknowledged heavily. He might be a playboy but he had a code of morals and he had always treated her with the utmost respect.

      ‘Someone once tried to pay me to do something that I couldn’t do—something that was terribly wrong,’ she choked, aware from Dante’s confused expression that she wasn’t making a lot of sense.

      ‘You mean a guy offered to pay you for sex?’

      ‘No … it wasn’t like that.’

      When Rebekah did not continue Dante felt a surge of frustration. He wanted to demand that she tell him what it had been like—what had she meant? Why had she jumped to conclusions and thought the worst of him?

      ‘It has something to do with the guy in Wales, doesn’t it?’ he guessed. He sighed as he lowered her T-shirt and smoothed her hair back from her face. ‘But I take it from your silence that you don’t want to talk about it.’

      ‘Sometimes it’s best to leave the past alone.’ She gave him a wobbly smile. ‘Dante, I am truly sorry. The clothes are beautiful, and it was such a kind gesture, but …’ Rebekah gave him an awkward, apologetic glance. ‘I would prefer to pay for them myself.’

      He lifted himself off her and stood up. ‘We’ll discuss it later. Did you find the kitchen?’

      ‘Yes.’ She took a shaky breath when she realised he was not going to pursue the reason why she had accused him so unfairly. ‘It’s fantastic—and the fridge is well stocked. We won’t need to go shopping for a few days.’

      ‘Good. So what time is dinner?’ Dante kept his tone deliberately light and was relieved to see her relax a little.

      ‘Oh, heavens! I forgot to put the chicken in the oven.’ Rebekah scrambled off the bed. ‘I’d better go and do it now.’

      She hurried across the room but hesitated in the doorway and turned to look at Dante. She felt terrible about the awful way she had treated him and she felt angry and upset with herself that she was still allowing Gareth and the past to affect her. She needed to forget about him, but some things could never be forgotten, she thought painfully.

      ‘I don’t object to you being in my room—’ Dante’s deep voice dragged her from her thoughts ‘—but I’m about to get dressed—which means this towel is coming off.’

      As he spoke he moved his hands to the towel draped around his hips. Rebekah swallowed as she traced her eyes over the dark hairs that arrowed down his flat abdomen and disappeared beneath the towel which she noticed was totally inadequate to hide the fact that he was aroused.

      For a moment she was desperately tempted to retrace her steps across the room and remove the towel for him. But if she made love with him again wouldn’t it just complicate their relationship even more? Her eyes flew to his face and she caught her breath when she saw the sensual heat in his silvery gaze.

      ‘You have thirty seconds to leave, cara, or we won’t be eating that chicken until midnight,’ he said roughly.

      Rebekah did not need a second warning, and fled!

       CHAPTER SEVEN

      THEY had dinner that evening on the terrace which overlooked lush green farmland and fields of tall ripe corn that rippled like a golden lake. In the distance the mountains towered majestically, their jagged outline softened by the mellow light as the sun sank slowly beneath the horizon.

      The panoramic view was breathtaking. ‘It’s like a painting by one of the Old Masters,’ Rebekah commented as she sat with her chin propped on her hand and drank in the beauty of the Tuscan landscape. ‘How can you ever bear to leave this place?’

      ‘I enjoy a busy life in London, a demanding career and good social life, but I must admit I miss the tranquillity of the Casa di Colombe.’ Dante took a sip of the particularly good red wine that was made from grapes grown on his estate. ‘One day I’ll move here permanently and learn to make wine and press olives—’ he slanted a smile at her ‘—perhaps even learn how to cook as well as you do. The dinner you made tonight was divine.’

      ‘I’m glad you enjoyed it.’ Rebekah gave a contented sigh as she drained her glass of pomegranate juice. Her fear that things would be strained between her and Dante after she had reacted so badly about the clothes he had bought her had been unfounded. During dinner he had been a charming and entertaining companion and had made her laugh with his dry humour. She had slowly started to feel relaxed and been fascinated when he had told her more of the history of the house and when it had been a monastery hundreds of years ago.

      ‘Where I come from in North Wales is beautiful too, and we have mountains. You can see Snowdon from my parents’ farm,’ she told him. Her expression grew wistful. ‘I think home is where the heart is—where the people you love are.’

      ‘I guess there’s some truth in that,’ Dante agreed. His grandmother had lived here in Tuscany, and perhaps that was why he loved this house so much. But Lara hadn’t liked it here. She had found the quiet, remote location boring and on the couple of occasions she had visited Nonna with him she had been impatient to get back to the city. He should have realised they were too different for their relationship to have succeeded, he thought heavily.

      He glanced at Rebekah, noting how the last golden rays of the sun burnished her hair so that it looked like a stream of shimmering silk, and he felt a peculiar sensation, as if his insides had twisted.

      ‘Tell me about your family. How many brothers did you say you have?’

      ‘Seven—there’s Owen, Aled, Cai, Bryn, Huw, Morgan and Rhys, who is the baby, only he’s twenty-two now. My mother is from a big family too and I am the seventh child of a seventh child, which, according to my grandmother, means I have the sixth sense. But I don’t believe in superstition. If I possessed psychic powers I would surely have known about Gareth,’ Rebekah said unthinkingly. She flushed when Dante shot her an intent look.

      ‘Gareth, I take it, is the Welsh ex-boyfriend. What would you have known about him?’

      Strangely, Rebekah discovered that she wanted to talk to Dante about what had happened.

      ‘That he was having an affair with my best friend and chief bridesmaid.’

      ‘You mean you were engaged?’ Dante did not know why he was so surprised. Presumably, if she had been hoping to marry her boyfriend she had been in love with him. Was she still? he wondered.

      ‘For five years. But we had been dating for longer than that. We met at school, Gareth lived on the farm close to my home and we grew up together. I thought I knew him. I thought we would always be together and have a long and happy marriage like my parents—’ she swallowed ‘—but it turned out that I never knew him at all.’

      ‘It must have been a shock when you discovered your fiancé had been unfaithful.’ Dante frowned. Had Rebekah felt the same gut-wrenching sense of betrayal that had ripped through him when Lara had confessed she had been sleeping with another man? He had heard the lingering hurt in her voice. Irrationally, he wished he could meet the Welsh farmer and connect his fist with the guy’s jaw. ‘So what happened—how did you find out?’

      ‘He confessed that he didn’t want

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