Stephanie Howard - The Colorado Countess

Then Leone said, ‘So you’ve come to San Rinaldo looking for satisfaction? Professional satisfaction, I mean, of course.’ The blue eyes flashed. ‘After all, we’ve more or less established that for you that’s the only kind of satisfaction worth pursuing.’

Carrie swallowed hard. How on earth, she was wondering, had the conversation managed to arrive at this loaded point? Though she had a small suspicion that the responsibility was partly hers. For it had somehow grown out of the disapproving noises she’d made regarding his claim that life was for living.

She made a mental note to be more cautious in future. The heir to the throne clearly had no scruples at all about baiting young women who took a disapproving tone with him. Not that that knowledge would actually be of any use to her. She was unlikely ever to meet him again.

Just to think that was a great relief. She straightened her shoulders. And perhaps now she could persuade him to put an end to this meeting.

She looked across at him, though avoiding looking too deeply into his eyes. Those smouldering lapis eyes, she was learning, were dangerous. She smiled a neutral smile. ‘Now that you’ve told me why you came here . . . and now that I’ve had a chance to explain about the other evening. . . it would seem your unfinished business has been completed.’

Well, that was plain enough. As hints went, that one was yacht-sized. Politely, she waited. With any luck he’d make a move now, then she could just give him his money and wave a thankful goodbye.

And he did start to stand up. At least, that was what it looked like. He sat forward in his seat, his hands on the chair arms. ‘You’re right; that particular piece of business has been completed.’

But then, midway, he paused, the smoky blue eyes fixing her. ‘But that wasn’t the only reason I came here,’ he said.

Oh, dear. Carrie stiffened. Had her initial suspicions been right? Was there seduction on the royal mind, after all? She looked into his eyes and felt herself shiver. Now, how was she going to get out of this?

‘Oh?’ she responded, and got ready to defend herself.

Leone was watching her. ‘I promise you you’re going to like this.’

Carrie’s insides twisted. Oh, no, I’m not, she thought.

Then he smiled. ‘I know you’ll like it because it happens to concern your work.’

‘My work?’

‘Yes, your work. I may be able to help you.’

‘Help me?’ She was suspicious. ‘In what way?’ she queried. ‘I really don’t think I need any help.’ She hurried on, assuring him, ‘I’ve already seen Dr Lamberti—he’s the manager at the Castello factory—and we’ve agreed on a programme for doing interviews and photographs, plus all the access I need to the archives. I know enough Italian to decipher most of it, but if I have any problems he’s offered to provide a translator.

‘So, you see,’ she ended, conclusively stamping on his suggestion, ‘I really don’t see how you could possibly help me.’

The very last thing she either needed or wanted was to get tied up with Count Leone!

He had listened without a word and now he shrugged as though in agreement. ‘I guess you’re right,’ he told her. ‘You don’t need my assistance.’ And, to Carrie’s immense relief, he stood up.

Carrie jumped to her feet too. What joy! He was finally leaving! She couldn’t wait to wave him down the stairs to his car.

But, just as he was about to head for those very same stairs, he paused and turned round to face her again. ‘I take it, then,’ he said with an inquisitorial lift of one eyebrow, ‘that you’re unaware of the existence of the Montecrespi dinner service?’

Carrie had very nearly gone walking into him when he had turned round so suddenly, and she’d been about to deliver him a fierce scowl as she stepped back. But now she forgot about scowling and blinked at him instead.

‘On the contrary,’ she informed him. ‘I’m very much aware of the existence of the Montecrespi dinner service.’

Anyone who was even remotely interested in Castello porcelain couldn’t help but know about the fabulous dinner service that had been made to mark the wedding of the first Duke back at the end of the seventeenth century.

She looked at Leone now, wondering what he was getting at. ‘It’s in the Duke’s private collection that’s kept locked up in the Palazzo Verde.’ As she said it she couldn’t disguise the note of longing in her voice, for she had applied to the palace press office for permission to include it in her book and had been greeted with an immediate and categorical refusal.

‘But no one’s allowed to see it, let alone photograph it,’ she added now. For at least there had been that much consolation—that no other member of the public had ever been allowed anywhere near it either.

She kept her eyes fixed on Leone, suddenly curious. ‘Why do you mention it?’ she wanted to know.

‘I just wondered if you’d be interested. . .’

‘Interested? How do you mean, interested?’

‘Interested in including it in this book of yours.’

Carrie’s heart almost stopped. That look in his eyes was the look of someone holding out a bar of candy to a baby. And this was one bar of candy Carrie desperately wanted.

She swallowed and held her breath. ‘But I just told you no one’s allowed to see it. I already tried and they turned me down.’

‘Ah, yes.’ Leone smiled. ‘But you didn’t have me backing you then.’

Carrie was still holding her breath. ‘Meaning?’ she croaked.

‘Meaning that if you had me backing you you might have a different response.’

‘And why should you back me?’

‘Do I need an ulterior motive?’ His smile was pure innocence, but there was a wicked glint in his eyes. ‘Maybe I’d simply like to help you,’ he suggested.

Yes, and cats might kiss canaries. She didn’t believe that for a second. But for now his motives were a separate issue. The issue that concerned Carrie now was much more immediate.

She let out her breath and put to him, ‘Do you really mean it? Would you help me?’

‘I might. And if I do there’s a good chance that I’ll succeed. I have a fair amount of influence with my brother.’

‘If you could, that would be wonderful.’ Carrie wasn’t sure she should be saying this. She had the feeling that some silken noose was about to close around her neck. But how could she respond otherwise? He was offering her a prize she’d dreamed of. ‘I’d really be grateful,’ she heard herself add.

‘Would you? That’s nice to know.’ Leone was still standing over her, looking down at her with eyes as tempting as Satan’s. ‘I’ll bear that in mind,’ he added, his blue gaze sweeping over her. ‘A woman’s gratitude, I find, is always a most generous thing. And I’m sure I’ll think of a suitable way for you to express yours when the time comes.’

Carrie was about to step back. Suddenly, danger signs were flashing. And she was tempted to blurt out, Forget it! I’ve changed my mind! She could almost feel the silken strands of the noose biting into her neck already.

But, before she could utter a word, Leone was stepping away from her. ‘I’ll be in touch,’ he was saying. ‘Thanks for the peach.’

Then he was turning away and hurrying down the stone steps. And Carrie was still standing there, wondering what on earth she’d let herself in for, when a moment later she heard his car drive away.

Four days passed and there was no further word from him.

He’s forgotten, Carrie decided, or else he was never serious in the first place. All of which was to be expected and was probably for the best anyway. Count Leone, she had decided, was as dangerous as a ticking time bomb.