Kate Fitzroy - Dreams Of Tuscany

About the Publisher

CHAPTER ONE

The waiter placed a perfect cappuccino in front of her with a small flourish. Zoe looked up at him with a fleeting smile of thanks and then returned to her thoughts. She slowly stirred the frothy milk into the rich darkness of the coffee, enjoying the aroma that floated up to her. Sunlight glanced across the café, lighting on the dark marble floor and reflecting on the enormous Gaggia coffee machine behind the bar. The day was perfect but Zoe felt an inexplicable reluctance to enjoy it. She sighed heavily and began to sip her coffee.

‘ Ciao, bellissima! ’ A familiar voice interrupted her thoughts and a chair was scraped back as Paolo Santini, her boss and good friend, joined her at the table.

‘Why you look so sad, cara ? You too beautiful to be sad and the day is beautiful too… una bella giornata! Un espresso, per favore, subito!’

Zoe looked up as Paolo shouted across to the barman, waving his arms and filling the space with his energy. She knew he would be like it all day long. Paolo was irrepressibly larger than life. They worked side by side in an estate agency in the town, Zoe’s quiet, calm nature a foil to his exuberance. Paolo’s father had begun the business years ago, mainly handling the selling and buying of parcels of agricultural land in the surrounding vineyards and hills of Tuscany. After his father’s death, Paolo had inherited the agency and quickly realised the potential of selling farmhouses to the English. Zoe had first met him when she was teaching English in the town and had helped out with some translation work. Then Paolo had offered her a full-time job at a salary that doubled her teacher’s wage and she had accepted happily. They worked well together and the business soon flourished. Zoe looked across the table at him fondly and took a deep breath. Her day had begun.

Less than an hour later she was driving her jeep through the dazzling sunshine, enjoying the scenery as it rushed past. It never failed to thrill her – the famous red earth punctuated with the exclamation marks of dark cypress trees, all spread under the canopy of an azure sky. Paolo was right, it was the most beautiful day and she had a new client to meet. Zoe flicked her long, ash-blonde hair back from her shoulders. Her mother, an exquisitely elegant woman, always told Zoe it was her crowning glory. Zoe frowned and sighed. Somehow, the way her mother had said it made it sound more like Zoe’s only redeeming feature. She looked briefly at her reflection in the driving mirror as if to reassure herself. Her eyes were a very deep blue and her skin, now lightly tanned by the Italian sun, had resisted freckles and was smooth and unlined. Her mouth was surely too serious – but a full, even shape with lips that curled quite cutely at the edges. The problem was it didn’t smile quite enough to get any practice. Her teeth were perfect thanks to the persistence of her perfectionist mother. Years of wearing a brace and several thousand pounds had seen to that. Zoe looked again into the mirror and tried a wide smile. It certainly felt awkward. She concentrated her vision back on the road as she turned sharply into the shade of a long avenue of cypress trees leading to the Villa Sognidoro. Time to stop self-criticism. Nearly there. She looked at her watch and was pleased to see she was five minutes early for her appointment. As the jeep bumped over the last bend in the long, pot-holed driveway, the derelict mansion finally came in sight. She was surprised to see a car outside; the client had beaten her to it. In fact, this client had a top-of-the-range hire car, a shining pale blue Mercedes coupé SLK. It was the sort of thing that she and Paolo, working together, always remarked on. Not that a car necessarily meant everything, but it was unusual for a client with enough money to buy a large property to turn up in a tiny compact. Zoe drew quickly to a halt and jumped out of the jeep, grabbing her clipboard and handbag.

‘Sorry if I’m late, Mr. Knight!’ She called as she went towards the man waiting in the shade of a large fig tree.

‘Not at all. I have a natural habit of being early and I’ve been taking photos.’ The man waved his camera and then held out his hand.

‘Alex Knight, please call me Alex – pleased to meet you.’

They shook hands briefly.

‘Zoe Bennett, please call me Zoe.’ She smiled up at him. The smile had come quite easily, she found, and it stayed glued to her face whilst she looked into his slate-grey eyes. She looked down quickly and found herself staring at his large hand-made leather shoes. Zoe drew a deep breath. Mr. Knight was rather nice, well actually very, very nice. Tall, lean and muscular, strangely dark metallic grey hair which didn’t match his smooth, youthful face… She pulled herself together, gripped her clipboard defensively in front of her and cleared her throat.

‘As I told you on the phone, the Villa Sognidoro has been abandoned for several years. Obviously a full renovation is needed but the location is spectacular!’ She turned and waved an arm at the panorama spread out before them.

‘It was your photos of the view that brought me rushing out here.’ Alex Knight turned and looked out across the wide valley and distant hills dotted with mediaeval villages. ‘Nothing has changed in hundreds of years in that view. The house…’ He swung round, spreading his long arms wide to embrace the sight of the ruined walls and gaping roofs. ‘Anyone can bring that back to life but a vast, unspoilt view…you have to be a god to create that!’

‘Absolutely!’ Zoe nodded feebly in agreement. A Greek god was just what she had been thinking. As he moved enthusiastically about in front of her she sensed a faint aroma of his cologne…maybe aftershave or just good soap? Was it pine, mint or sea breeze? Whatever it was, her senses reeled and it was a great effort to return to business once more.

‘And nothing will change it,’ she added, hearing her own voice changed to that of a squeaky schoolboy. She cleared her throat…this was ridiculous. She looked resolutely at the villa and summoned up remnants of her usual fluent sales patter. ‘The vineyards and fields can never become building land. The Italian government are dedicated to protecting the rich heritage of the landscape of Tuscany.’ Zoe stopped talking abruptly, now she was babbling like an enthusiastic tourist guide. Alex turned back to look at her and she felt the full impact of his dark eyes looking at her directly as he picked up the conversation.

‘A good thing too. One hears of corruption amongst the governmental offices but hopefully what you say is true. It would be a terrible crime to destroy this panorama.’

Zoe smiled and quickly thought to herself how much smiling practice her mouth was getting this morning.

Her voice had nearly regained its normal timbre as she replied more easily, ‘Would you like to go around the property now – at least where it is safe to do so?’

‘Yes indeed, I’ll follow you.’

Zoe walked ahead of him up the crumbling, stone steps and onto a wide terrace. She turned back to him and found his eyes riveted to a close inspection to the back of her Armani jeans. He looked quickly up and they looked at each other, eye to eye, for a brief second. She was standing two steps above him and matched his height exactly. Zoe felt her cheeks begin to blush as she turned away, and carried on walking across the terrace to the front door.

She found the old key in her handbag and tried to push it into the keyhole. Her hands were trembling and she fumbled and nearly dropped the key. Alex placed his hand over hers and helped her fit the key into the rusty lock. Zoe felt the warmth of his large hand for a moment and then the door creaked open and they moved inside the gloom of the hall. They stood side by side, absorbing the atmosphere of the house as it enveloped them.