‘Here at the Castello di Sirena emotions run deep—deeper even than the spring that feeds our ancient lake. It is a place made for pleasure, not for relentless work. Let me show you.’

His voice was a warm caress of desire.

Work later, play now …

The gentle sounds of nature receded as her head filled with clouds of cotton wool. She seemed to be looking at herself from outside. Instead of taking the piece of fruit from Dario’s fingers with her own, she watched herself lean forward to take it directly into her mouth. Through a warm mist of arousal she heard herself gasp as the peach’s unctuous nectar ran down her chin.

Dario had never expected her to do something so spontaneous. His shock and surprise seamlessly turned to raw lust, ready to overwhelm him. No one could expect a man like the Count di Sirena to refuse such an invitation. Swiftly and silently, he took Josie’s hands and moved in to taste her …

About the Author

CHRISTINA HOLLIS was born in Somerset, and now lives in the idyllic Wye valley. She was born reading, and her childhood dream was to become a writer. This was realised when she became a successful journalist and lecturer in organic horticulture. Then she gave it all up to become a full-time mother of two and run half an acre of productive country garden.

Writing Mills & Boon® romances is another ambition realised. It fills most of her time, in between complicated rural school runs. The rest of her life is divided among garden and kitchen, either growing fruit and vegetables or cooking with them. Her daughter’s cat always closely supervises everything she does around the home, from typing to picking strawberries!

You can learn more about Christina and her writing at www.christinahollis.com

Recent titles by the same author:

WEIGHT OF THE CROWN

THE ITALIAN’S BLUSHING BRIDE

THE FRENCH ARISTOCRAT’S BABY

Did you know these are also available as eBooks? Visit www.millsandboon.co.uk

The Count’s

Prize

Christina Hollis

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MILLS & BOON

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To Martyn, for all your invaluable help and understanding.

CHAPTER ONE

JOSIE couldn’t help herself. Trying to pretend that this was going to be just another job was impossible. Bouncing forward in her seat, she rapped on the glass partition separating her from the di Sirena family’s impeccably dressed chauffeur.

‘Stop! Please stop!’

The man immediately stamped on the brakes and whipped around to look at her, his face full of concern. ‘Is there something wrong, Dr Street?’

‘No, no, sorry, nothing’s wrong. I didn’t mean to alarm you. It’s just that I was told the Castello Sirena is very beautiful, so I want to be sure of getting a good look at it,’ Josie confided, sinking back into the sumptuous leather upholstery.

Her chauffeur nodded in agreement. ‘That’s quite understandable, signorina. This castle has been called the most beautiful Italian property still in private hands. But, as you will be staying for a month, surely you will have plenty of opportunities for sightseeing?’

‘I don’t know—I’ve got so much to do while I’m here. I might not have that much spare time to just … admire it,’ she said, smiling. Her excitement at the prospect of new archaeological discoveries was shadowed slightly by the thought of talking about her work in front of students next term, but that worry could wait. She had lots of lovely research to do before then. ‘I’m preparing my first course, and I want to bring some of my undergraduate study trips to this part of Italy.’

One look at the surrounding countryside, glowing gold in the sunshine, and Josie knew that seeing the Castello Sirena just as part of a research project was going to be difficult. The place oozed distraction. However, the ink was barely dry on her PhD and contract of employment at the university, so she didn’t want to smudge either by not making the absolute most of this opportunity. It had taken endless persuading and presentations to get any funding at all for this trip and she’d been so lucky that her best friend, Antonia, had invited her to investigate their family estate in such a way—the Castello Sirena was usually closed to researchers. Without that cherry, she didn’t think her office would have given her the money to travel, and as it was they’d only funded her for a couple of weeks at most.

As a child, she had driven her mother mad by filling their tiny house with muddy bits of ‘buried treasure’ found in the garden. Mrs Street had sacrificed a lot over the years to see her daughter through university, so Josie was determined to build herself a professional reputation for always putting her job first—at least, that was what she kept telling herself.

She whipped her camera out of her bag.

‘Can you spare a minute while I take some photos?’ she asked the driver. ‘My mum back home in England is never likely to see a place like this for herself. I want to give her some proof I’m actually going to be staying in a castle!’

She had hardly finished speaking before the driver got out and opened the car door for her.

‘Oh, that’s so kind of you! I didn’t mean to put you to any trouble …’

‘It’s no trouble, signorina, as I told you when I took charge of your bags.’

His words made Josie go hot with horror all over again. The summer day was warm enough already, without an embarrassing reminder of that scene at the airport. She was so used to fending for herself, being greeted there by a stranger in a sharp suit and totally black sunglasses had made her instantly suspicious. She had refused to hand over her things until she’d checked his ID.

‘Then thank you.’

Josie stepped out of the car and into the furnace that was Tuscany in July. She took a few quick snaps along the tree-lined drive towards the great castle on the hill, then dived back into the luxury of the di Sirena limousine as soon as she could. Its air-conditioning was a wonderful treat on a day like today.

‘What was that lovely smell?’ she asked as they set off down a cool green corridor formed by trees planted on either side of the mile-long drive.

‘This lime avenue is in flower.’ Her driver waved his hand towards the leafy green canopy overhead as they cruised along. ‘Insects love them. You can hear them buzzing from a long way away. Count Dario once told me there could easily be several million bees working away on the flowers at any one time.’

Josie thought that was a very fitting image. Count Dario was the brother of her friend Antonia. Josie had never met him but, from the tales Antonia told about him, the man sounded a real drone. He partied every night and loafed around his estates during the day while everyone else did the actual work. It was no wonder he knew all about bees.

‘Stroll beneath these trees when the sun is high above the old campanile, Dr Street, and you’ll hear them purring like a Rolls-Royce engine.’

Josie sighed. ‘It sounds lovely.’

‘You should make the most of this place while you have it all to yourself,’ the driver said. ‘It was another late one last night, so everyone is still asleep. We’ve already been told the current crop of house guests won’t be taking lunch today. Signora Costa, the housekeeper, will be making arrangements for you to eat alone, Dr Street.’

Josie shut her eyes in relief and thanked her lucky stars. The castello might be a new experience for her, but she had holidayed at Antonia’s apartment in Rome and the di Sirena family villa in Rimini several times. In both places, her best friend’s neighbours were all seriously grand. They were lovely people, but that didn’t stop Josie feeling as out of place as a sardine in a tank full of angel-fish. She always enjoyed playing with little Fabio while his mother, Antonia, went shopping; it was the evenings spent listening to people she didn’t know talking about spending three months skiing and visiting places she had only seen in colour supplements that Josie found hard work. Making small talk was her idea of hell. She was taking it for granted that Antonia’s older brother would be nocturnal because of his notoriously wild social life. That suited her. It meant she would be free to work in and around the ancient splendour of the Castello Sirena all day and be fast asleep before he surfaced, ready for another night on the tiles. With the limited amount of time available to her, she didn’t think she could afford to waste a single day.

At the thought of what Count Dario would be doing in the evenings, it was impossible not to feel a twinge of envy. She looked around at the sun-drenched acres of the Castello Sirena. Although she loved her work, Josie sometimes felt like a hamster on a wheel. She had to keep forging ahead just to pay her bills, while people like Count Dario had everything handed to them on solid silver ancestral platters.

When she’d first started sharing rooms with Antonia at university, she’d wondered if their wildly differing backgrounds would poison their friendship. Instead, it was a source of endless amusement. And when either of them hit rough times, the other was there with support.

Loyalty was important to Josie. She’d thought she had found it in her ex-fiancé, but she had been proved as wrong about him as Antonia had been about her own partner, Rick. When Antonia got pregnant, Rick had abandoned the poor girl instantly. Josie helped her best friend to pick up the pieces, but secretly she thought Antonia was better off without the guy.

After her own experiences, Josie was developing a very jaundiced outlook when it came to men. When her friend decided that she wanted to stay at home with her baby, rather than getting back to her studies, it was a blow to Josie. Her work just wasn’t the same without her friend. That was why she was so looking forward to this project. It gave her a great chance to work, with the prospect of catching up with Antonia and little Fabio when they got home from Rimini.

Josie had to admit that a bit of her envied her friend’s freedom to choose …

‘Right, here we are.’

The chauffeur broke into her thoughts as he pulled up at the great front entrance to the castello. Josie got out of the car, pulling her skirt straight. As she looked up at the rambling old building she fiddled with some unruly strands of brown hair that had escaped from her ponytail. Imagine living in a place like this. The high stone walls and towering fairy-tale turrets were so beautiful. She wondered how many warriors had cantered up to this awe-inspiring entrance over the centuries. Its great oak door was studded with huge iron nails and bleached by hundreds of bright summer days like this one. In the centre, the figure of an iron mermaid, copied from the di Sirena family’s crest, looked down on her with scorn.

Behind her, the chauffeur drove off to deliver her luggage to the back of the house. Conscious of being the latest in an endless line of visitors over the years, Josie advanced, caught hold of the great iron bell pull on one side of the door and got ready to pin on her best public smile.

Count Dario di Sirena was bored. As usual, he had entertained his guests lavishly the night before, but that meant there was no one up and about to entertain him yet. The yachting club members had been busy into the early hours, sampling the wide range of wines in the castello’s cellars. Alcohol had no particular attraction for Dario any more, so he was letting his guests sleep it off this morning while he made his usual early start. That was fine for them, but it left him short of a tennis partner. Hitting balls pitched at him by a machine was no substitute for a proper match. Not that many visitors to the castle ever seemed keen on sport, although they never refused his hospitality. His guests’ interest in him only as a name to drop was beginning to irritate Dario.

Just for once I’d like to find someone willing to forget my rank and give me a good hard game, he thought, scything the heads off a dozen innocent moon daisies with the head of his racket. He opened a green swathe through the sea of calm white flowers. Seeing it, he took another pass, sending florets spinning through the sunshine. As he was idly wondering if it might be satisfying to try scything the whole meadow like that, he heard one of his cars.

Shading his eyes against the relentless sunlight, he watched it stop briefly outside the house while a girl got out. Dario quickly tried to remember who this new visitor could be. Surely it wasn’t Antonia’s friend? She wasn’t supposed to be arriving until the twelfth. He checked the date on his watch, and grimaced. Today was the twelfth. He sighed. Since he’d inherited his title, he found time passed so quickly that all the days merged into one another. Time slipped away like water through his hands, and what did he have to show for it? A golf handicap that was fast approaching zero, and enough frequent flyer miles to circumnavigate the solar system.

Anything Dario wanted, he could have.

Except a good reason for getting up early, he thought.

Shouldering his racket, he strode over to introduce himself to the new visitor with a smile.

Antonia had told him that her best friend was here to work and was not to be … distracted. The way his sister described Dr Josie Street, Dario half expected to be playing host to an eccentric nun. The woman he now saw trying to raise the alarm outside his house was far more appealing than that.

Although … he considered, looking her over with a practised eye, she’s doing her best to hide it. Josie’s tightly drawn-back hair, concentrated frown and shapeless clothes all indicated a woman fighting her natural good looks as hard as she could. She certainly fitted his image of an English academic. Hmm … maybe someone should tell her that there’s more to life than study, he thought in passing as he drew closer to her.

Years spent toiling on archaeological digs as a student meant Josie was no weakling, but the bell pull defeated her. She tried knocking on the door, but its six inches of solid oak deadened all sound. The chauffeur was bound to have warned the other staff that she was on her way, but Josie suspected it would be some time before they came to check. When one final haul couldn’t dislodge the bell pull she stood back, brushing flakes of rust from her hands in disgust.

‘Buon giorno.’

She jumped at the intrusion, and swung around. A man was walking towards her out of the sun, and the mere sight of him made her stand and stare. Towering head and shoulders over her, he was all toned limbs and easy grace. His unruly black hair and flashing eyes were teamed with a golden tan and immaculate tennis whites. It was a breathtaking combination, and she suspected he knew that only too well. In contrast to Josie’s dusty travelling clothes, everything he wore seemed brand new. The state-of-the art tennis racket he bounced against the palm of his left hand as he drew closer didn’t look as if it had ever been used in anger. It even had daisies woven into its strings.

I wonder if they were threaded there by some girl? Josie thought, glancing around to see if this vision was making his way over to someone glamorous who might be standing nearby. The courtyard was otherwise deserted so, wonder of wonders, he must be heading straight for her.

She didn’t need to be told who it was. Those soft brown eyes and dense dark lashes were instantly familiar. This must be her host, Antonia’s brother. To Josie’s eyes, he looked even more wayward than his reputation.

‘Allow me to introduce myself. I am Count Dario di Sirena.’

The vision confirmed her suspicions with a voice like warm honey. In a grand gesture he reached for her hand and swept it up to his lips for a formal kiss.

Josie’s immediate reaction was shock. ‘Why aren’t you in bed?’ she blurted out.

Dario raised his eyebrows. ‘I assume that isn’t an invitation?’

Josie snatched back her hand and retreated, blushing furiously. She had got off on the wrong foot in spectacular style, even for her.

Dario smiled, ignoring her awkwardness. ‘You must be Josie.’

‘Dr Josephine Street, yes,’ she muttered, ignoring the little voice inside her telling her off for sounding so sullen. Meeting new people had never been easy for her, and it was ten times harder when they were this gorgeous.

‘That’s very formal, Dr Josephine Street!’ Dario teased, but Josie was too flustered to smile back at him and flirt like he was no doubt expecting.

‘I’m a very formal person.’

‘Then allow me to say that it gives me the greatest pleasure to welcome you into my humble home,’ he announced with mock gravity. As he spoke, he inclined in a semi-formal bow. When Josie pointedly refused his unspoken invitation to join in the joke he straightened up again, but he was still smiling.

Josie knew that hiding her shyness behind a brave face often worked, so she fell back on that. She lifted her chin and returned his gaze boldly. This was a man who was at ease in every situation—she had learned that much from Antonia’s stories. The same stories that had led her to surreptitiously search for him on Google the other night. Neither the gossip columns nor Antonia had exaggerated. His aristocratic bearing made those anecdotes all too believable, and one look at Count Dario di Sirena showed that his charm ran deep. He was as gorgeous as he was imposing, and radiated an inner assurance that all the wealth and power in the world couldn’t buy. Dario in the living, breathing flesh was a different prospect altogether from his sister—Josie’s cheerful, chubby friend. Without a doubt, he was the best-looking man she had ever seen. The way he looked at her was its own distraction: it set her firmly at the centre of his universe.

It took a supreme act of will on Josie’s part to remember that most men had the attention span of fruit flies. She took it for granted that when she failed to massage his ego Dario would soon lose interest and disappear. That tactic had worked only too well for her in the past, even though she hadn’t done it deliberately. Men seemed to vanish, whether she wanted them to or not. An experienced charmer like Dario wouldn’t waste his time in trying to pursue her.

‘I’m surprised you chose to come straight here instead of staying at Rimini with Antonia and little Fabio first, Dr Street,’ he said conversationally, trying to penetrate her awkward silence.

The spotlight of his attention paralysed Josie. Somehow he seemed to be blinding her, even though his face was in shadow. She moved uncomfortably, trying to persuade herself it was the sun that was sending her temperature off the scale.

‘You can call me Josie,’ she mumbled. ‘I’ve stayed at your villa there before, and felt that I rather cramped Antonia’s style. She always tried to include me in her entertaining, but all those posh neighbours with their stories about people and places I didn’t know were …’ She groped for a way to put it politely.

‘Not quite your cup of tea?’

Dario’s words were slow, but the merriment in his eyes was quicksilver. Hearing his beautiful Italian accent caress such a typically English phrase, Josie felt it melt the veneer of sophistication she had tried to put on. The fierce heat of embarrassment rushed up over her breasts and stained her face with a blush again.

‘The chauffeur took my luggage away with him and left me here on my own. I was trying to work out how to attract someone’s attention.’

‘You’ve got my attention now,’ Dario said with calm assurance, and something deep inside Josie flared to life, wishing that were true. Impervious to Josie’s internal turmoil, Dario reached out to the bell pull and flicked aside a small catch that Josie hadn’t noticed. It was keeping the iron rod clamped in place.

‘Ah—of course. Thank you.’

She put out her hand automatically, but he caught it before she could connect with the heavy iron ring. For a split second she experienced the grip of his strong brown fingers again, then his touch fell away.

‘I wouldn’t. That’s the castello’s original fire alarm, and this is the assembly point. It operates a big bell that gathers everyone within earshot and I don’t think either of us would want that, would we?’

Josie shuddered. The idea of being the centre of attention horrified her—unless her audience was as warm and friendly as this man. With a smile that told her he knew exactly what she was thinking, Dario flicked the safety catch back on.

‘To ring the bell, you need to get up close and personal with Stella Maris here,’ he said, nodding towards the iron mermaid. ‘One of my forebears had a wicked sense of humour.’

Dario seemed to have inherited it. Sticking out his index finger, he pressed the mermaid firmly in the tummy button. An astonishingly loud ring drilled into the interior of the house.

‘Ah! Was this one of the inventions of the eighth Count? When Toni suggested I came here, I read everything I could find about the castello,’ Josie gabbled to cover her embarrassment.

Dario looked bemused, then shrugged. ‘If you say so. I have no idea, I’m afraid. Whoever thought of it must have wanted to deter honest women.’ Dario gave her a wickedly expressive look.

Josie blushed again. Beside Dario, she felt like a hedge sparrow matched against a peregrine falcon. He was totally at ease in his sunny surroundings, and dressed to enjoy them. Josie wasn’t. Her shoes were comfortable but clumpy, while her chain-store skirt suit was totally out of place beyond her university’s lecture theatre.

Within seconds, the great main door creaked open and a servant showed them into Dario’s home.

The castello’s entrance hall was dominated by a huge stone hearth. The fire back was a copy of the di Sirena family crest, with more mermaids like the ones Josie had seen discreetly stamped on Antonia’s luggage.

‘There go your things,’ Dario observed as a member of his staff swept past carrying a suitcase in each hand. ‘They’ll have put you in the West tower. That means you won’t be disturbed by any of the yachting club who stayed here last night. They’re all in the East wing. Come on, I’ll show you up to your suite.’

While Josie stared in wonder at the entrance hall’s carved ceilings and wooden panelling, he was taking the marble staircase two at a time. When he called to her, she had to run to catch up.

‘I’m sure you must have better things to do, Count Dario. Don’t let me put you to any trouble.’ Her voice echoed through the foyer.

He looked down at her sharply from his vantage point on the first landing. ‘You’re already a friend of the family, Josie, so to you I’m Antonia’s brother. Just call me Dario. It really would be my pleasure to show you to your suite,’ he finished firmly.

Josie followed him, although she had her reservations.

‘Are you sure you can find it?’ she said drily as they walked through a warren of corridors. All the flawless white plaster and polished woodwork made them look alike to her.

‘I have been rattling around inside this place all my life. Hasn’t Antonia told you why these floors are so shiny?’

Josie shook her head, smiling at the incongruous image of Dario with floor polish in hand.

‘I’d tie dusters to her feet and push her up and down, along all these miles of corridors. No matter how upset she was, that could always make her laugh.’

‘It’s hard to think of anyone being unhappy in a place as beautiful as this,’ she murmured.

‘People forget—there is more to life than just a lifestyle.’ Dario sighed, pushing open the nearest door. They were in the oldest part of the castle, where a huge lookout tower had been built within the shelter of its thick stone walls. It had been completely modernised, with a circular staircase leading up to a self-contained suite arranged on three floors. The first floor was laid out for dining and relaxing, while the second contained a bedroom and en suite bathroom.

‘—and finally,’ Dario announced as he led her up beyond the second floor doorway, ‘there’s something I call the solar …’

They had reached the top floor and he stepped out into a large circular room with windows facing in every direction. There were glass panels set into the roof too, so the whole space was flooded with light. It felt almost as free as being outside, but with the benefit of a sophisticated air-conditioning system.

‘Wow …’ Josie breathed, but couldn’t say anything more. She walked around the sunlit interior, taking in its panoramic views of the Tuscan countryside. The atmosphere outside was as clear as vodka. Pencil-slim cypress stood out like exclamation marks against rolling fields of arid grass, sunflowers and the green corrugations of the estate’s vineyards.

‘You should see it after nightfall,’ Dario told her, waiting until she paused before strolling slowly over to stand beside her. ‘It’s a scene of black velvet, full of possibilities. Headlights streaking along the Florence road … is it a triumph or a tragedy, a baby arriving or a lover departing? It’ll be hard for you to pick out the little farmhouses scattered across my land until you know the area better, but by night Luigi’s house, Enrico’s olive grove and Federico’s farmhouse will all be recognisable.’ His voice dropped to a wistful note. ‘I come up here sometimes to sit in the silence and wonder what they’re all doing.’

He was standing so close to her, Josie could feel his presence as well as catch the delicious drift of his aromatic aftershave. It gave her a tremulous feeling deep inside her body.

What’s happening to me? I’ve come here to work, she thought in alarm, glancing up at him.

Dario was gazing out across the view, lost in thought. At that moment, as though feeling her gaze fall on him, he turned his head and their eyes met. Another sensuous ripple thrilled straight through her.

And, as if knowing what was on her mind, Dario granted her a slow, sweet, irresistible smile.

CHAPTER TWO

JOSIE’S mind and body churned as she almost drowned in Dario’s gaze.

It must have been like this with Andy and that woman at the university, she thought with a shiver. I can’t risk getting between this man and the girlfriend he’s bound to have hidden away somewhere.

After what felt like an eternity, she managed to regain enough control to step away from him, as if to take a tour around the room.

‘This suite is wonderful, Dario, but it’s way out of my league. Don’t you have anything smaller?’ she asked, desperately trying to bring them both back to earth.

He looked startled for a moment, then laughed.

‘This isn’t a hotel! As I kept telling Antonia, you don’t have to pay anything at all for your visit, Josie. As her friend, you have a standing invitation to stay here whenever you like, for as long as you like. Surely she passed on my message?’

‘She did, but I always pay my own way.’

‘And the local hospital fund was very grateful when I forwarded your contribution.’ Dario grinned. ‘So why don’t we pretend your generosity qualified you for a complimentary upgrade?’

Josie hesitated, but decided that she had made her point.

‘In which case, thank you, Dario. But I’m afraid you won’t get much chance to look out of these windows while I’m staying here,’ she told him, and herself, briskly. ‘This looks like the perfect place for me to spread out my finds and paperwork. It’s well away from everyone else, so we won’t disturb each other. Thank you for bringing me up here.’

Dario gave her a smile of silent amusement. The meaning in her clipped words was only too obvious. She wanted to be alone, so he slowly headed back towards the door.

‘You’re trying so hard not to let yourself go, aren’t you?’ he murmured, just loud enough for her to hear.

‘I don’t know what you mean.’

He turned to face her, and then grinned again. ‘That blush tells me you’ve been taking too much notice of Antonia’s stories, Josie.’ He chuckled, his rich Florentine accent making her name sound incredibly beautiful. ‘Be assured that, as my sister’s best friend, you are quite safe. From me, at least.’

‘Anyone coming on to me would be making a mistake, Dario,’ she said firmly, ‘and I’d be making an even bigger mistake if I fell for it,’ she added. Her voice stopped his smile in an instant.

‘I suppose that’s understandable, when you’ve seen what has happened to Antonia.’

‘And to me.’

His eyes flashed dangerously. ‘You don’t mean that waster Rick tried it on with you, too?’

‘No—no! I just assumed Antonia had told you about—’ Josie stopped, and mentally hugged her friend. Antonia must have been very discreet. ‘That is … I mean … I had a similar experience, though it was nothing compared to what Toni’s been through. At the time I tried to warn her, but it was hard when she was so happy.’

His expression turned into one she couldn’t quite identify. ‘Knowing Antonia, trying to warn her off was a rash move. And yet you’re still friends?’

‘Of course.’

Dario’s dark, finely arched eyebrows shot up. ‘Weren’t you afraid she would dump you for trying to make her see sense?’

‘Oh, yes, but I felt I had no choice. I couldn’t bear to stand back and watch her throw away all her hard work for a man who was nothing but a lightweight—if you know what I mean.’

Her glance flicked around the palatial surroundings of her suite. She hoped he wouldn’t take her words personally. Seeing all the brand new luxury decorating the age-old splendour of the Castello Sirena, Josie decided she was going to like staying here, despite its attractively distracting Count.

‘I most certainly do know. I get plenty of gold diggers prospecting around me,’ he said grimly.

Josie laughed. ‘The only digging I’m interested in is the historical sort. So if you’ve got any ancestral skeletons hidden in your wardrobe, I’m the one to find out where their bodies are buried. Your dark secrets are your own affair, though!’

She was still glancing idly around the room as she spoke. When he didn’t reply, she looked back at him quizzically. For a second, there was such a depth of feeling in his irresistible dark eyes that not even Dario could hide it. The instant she trapped his gaze, the look vanished. His expression was left as bland as any first-time house guest could wish for, but Josie wasn’t fooled for a second.

In that instant she had seen a genuine reaction from a man who must be as used to putting on a public face as she was. Somehow, Josie knew, she had touched Dario di Sirena on a raw nerve. The man was hiding something. She had no idea what it was, or what she had done to provoke him.

All she knew was that she would have to be on the alert from that moment on.

Dario rarely allowed himself to be anything but alert. He had been born an aristocrat, and now fell back on the full force of his upbringing. He kissed her hand again and covered his momentary lapse with his most charming smile, which usually distracted even the most stubborn woman. Except … it didn’t have that effect on Dr Josie Street. Right now her green eyes were as bright and hard as emeralds, and her long silky lashes could do nothing to soften her curious, intelligent gaze. For a moment, she’d forgotten to be shy. Then a lock of hair dared to escape from the band that was holding her severe ponytail in place and she snatched back her hand. The wayward strand was scraped irritably behind her ear and she turned her back on him to fuss with her suitcases.

Dario chose to take the hint. ‘Goodbye, Josie. I hope you enjoy your stay here.’

‘I’m sure I shall, Dario. Especially when Toni and Fabio get back here next week.’

‘You could still join them both in Rimini now, if you like.’ Dario lifted his tennis racket again and began idly spinning it over his palm. ‘I could arrange transport for you right away.’ For some reason, the thought of Josie and her all-too-perceptive gaze staying here for the week made him uneasy.

‘No, thank you.’ She glanced over her shoulder at him with a glint of green ice. ‘As I said before, I’d rather work here than gossip with the beautiful people of Rimini.’

He raised his eyebrows again. ‘It’s a rare woman who would choose that.’

‘Not rare, just honest,’ she countered.

Dario tipped his head in salute. ‘That quality is in short supply in the circles I move in. I can see why you would have difficulty fitting in.’

She shrugged. ‘Research demands honesty, and it gets to be a habit. That’s all.’

‘I’ll bear that in mind,’ Dario said as he left, wondering what it would take to make Dr Josephine Street loosen up.

Josie couldn’t wait to plunge out into the estate and start exploring. She unpacked as fast as she could, intending to get busy straight away, but her suite was as distracting as Count Dario di Sirena himself. It seemed odd to hang up her cheap white T-shirts on beautiful hand-made padded hangers filled with lavender. The marble wet room that was part of her en suite bathroom was an irresistible temptation as the sun climbed higher outside. Tearing off her shoes and tights, she padded around in it barefoot for a while.

By the time she had changed and finished exploring the three floors of her hideaway in the tower, Dario’s other guests were in a holding pattern down in the courtyard. Watching all those chauffeur-driven limousines and prestige sports cars jockeying for position was an entertainment in itself. Josie spent much more time than she meant to with her elbows on her windowsill, staring down at the magnificent procession.

It was only when the Count himself came into view that she dodged back from the window. She moved as though she had been burned, not wanting Dario to think that her claim to be busy was just empty waffle.

Work first, play later, she kept reminding herself, although, for her, later never quite seemed to arrive.

Antonia was always joking that no one would ever catch Josie idling. Josie wasn’t sure she liked what that said about her, but she really did have a lot of work that had to be done before the new academic year started.

Italy and its history had fascinated Josie since she was a child. Pottering about in her back garden, she was always unearthing things and taking them in to school. One piece had turned out to be a broken Roman brooch, lost by a woman over two thousand years ago. That single piece, and an inspirational teacher, had really fired Josie’s imagination. Now, twenty years later, she was here in the land of the Romans preparing to inspire others, allowed to design a whole new course! She was acutely conscious of her luck, and grateful for the sacrifices her mother had made. The downside was the extra pressure she felt to make the best of all her chances.

That was why watching Dario walk across the courtyard was bound to disrupt her plans. Something about him drew her back to the window again like a flower to sunlight. He had swapped his tennis kit for taupe jodhpurs, a white shirt and a pair of highly polished riding boots. The pale clothes showed off his exotic colouring perfectly. Josie could hardly believe her luck. Hard work had brought her here to Italy, and now she was staring down at a drop-dead gorgeous guy from a tower that would have made Rapunzel sick with envy. Dario strolled across the forecourt, heading for the shade of the lime avenue like an emperor inspecting his lands. His leisurely strides were deceptive. They ate up the distance so quickly that soon the canopy of lush green leaves would hide him from view.

Then Count Dario di Sirena stopped, turned and looked quite deliberately straight up at where Josie was watching him from her window. She was transfixed. Something made her raise her right hand to wave, but another impulse snapped it straight back down to her side. She could imagine how her mother would sigh if she knew about this little tableau. Mrs Street would go all misty-eyed and lose herself again in the story of how she had met Josie’s father. Josie hated that. Her mother was the sad proof of how easy it was to misjudge a man, and it always dragged her own personal error of judgement out into the light again.

Dario continued to look up at her thoughtfully for a moment, then nodded a salute and turned to disappear into the trees. In a burst of embarrassment, Josie ducked away from the window and scrabbled around to find her notebooks and camera. This was a working trip, with a lot to do and not much time in which to do it. She had to build her reputation as a serious academic. Gawping at Dario di Sirena wouldn’t help that at all! Packing her things into a messenger bag, she slung it over her shoulder and headed down to the castle’s entrance hall.

Once out in the sunshine again with a map provided by the resident housekeeper, Josie was careful to turn her back on the lime avenue. She set off in an entirely different direction from Dario, in case he got the impression she was following him. Heading out to the far side of the estate, she passed through shady groves of ancient olive trees and fragrant citrus, soaking up the sun. She wanted to reach the point where the di Sirena estate’s grand gated drive met the twisting country road that idled past on its way to Florence.

She had spotted two men working on a stone wall there. In her experience, boundary walls were magical things. All through history, people had haggled over them and changed them, climbed over them and dropped things in the process, or hidden special little items in between their stones or under their foundations. She set off towards the workmen in a hurry, but the intense heat soon sapped her energy. Strolling along was the only way to travel on a beautiful day like this. A skylark lifted off from right under her feet, while corn buntings and yellowhammers rattled away from every thicket she passed.

She had drunk almost a whole bottle of water by the time she’d toiled all the way over to the workmen. One of them had already left in search of his dinner. The other was clearing up ready to disappear, too. Luckily he was a fund of stories, with a keen eye for what he called ‘little bits of something and nothing’. She was listening to him intently when she felt, rather than heard, a drumming sound reverberating through the parched grassland beneath her feet.

It was Dario. Mounted on a magnificent bay horse, he was cantering towards where she stood.

Josie planned to call out a casual, carefree hello, as though his appearance didn’t make her pulse immediately speed up. However, as she watched him ride towards her like a prince, come out of a storybook to claim her for his own, the words somehow caught in her throat and she was silent as he drew up in front of her.

He grinned. ‘I’ve had friendlier greetings!’

Josie swallowed and managed to force words out of her suddenly dry mouth. ‘Oh … I’m sorry, Dario. I was engrossed in what Signor Costa had to say, and you caught me by surprise.’

‘As I see. What’s keeping you so busy?’ Bringing his horse to a halt, he circled it around while sharing a few words with his estate worker.

‘You want to know about the history of this boundary wall?’ he asked Josie when he had finished his conversation.

She nodded, but looking at Dario made it difficult to remember what she did want. He looked magnificent, mounted high above her, the reins of his horse in one hand while the other rested loosely on the muscular plane of his thigh.

‘Yes—can you help?’

He laughed. ‘Not directly. I came over to see if you needed a translator.’

Josie’s heart turned a somersault, but she managed to keep her voice under control.

‘Thank you, but I can manage,’ she replied confidently. Then, afraid of sounding rude, she added, ‘I find I can concentrate better without distractions. I … I mean on my own …’

‘That’s a shame. I was looking forward to watching you at work. It makes a refreshing change. People don’t normally come here to do anything constructive. It’s a place built for pleasure.’

Josie stifled an involuntary moan. The chances of getting any work done with Count Dario around were minimal. She would be spending all her time trying not to look at the scenery—and she wasn’t thinking about the Tuscan hills.

What’s the matter with me? She struggled with her conscience. It won in the end—but only just.

‘Th … thank you for the offer, Dario, but at the moment I’m just fact-finding for the course I’m designing. I’m sure you’d find it very boring.’

He looked at her, his eyes amused, as though he could see straight through her flimsy defences.

‘OK, then. I need to check up on something on the other side of the village anyway, so I’ll leave you alone to get on with your work—for the moment, at least.’

He backed his horse to leave. Josie couldn’t decide whether she was relieved to be left alone or sorry that he was going.

‘Since you’ve taken the trouble to come all this way to stay in my home, I’ll ask around to see if anyone else has some stories about the boundary wall. And come to me when you’re ready to see some more of the Castello Sirena’s secrets.’

He sounded completely genuine, but the smile she gave him in return was apprehensive.

‘That would be great. Thanks.’

Josie had never known herself to be so easily distracted before—ever.

This sort of thing happens to other women, not to me! she thought. It made her feel weak, which in turn made her feel cross with herself and she scowled.

‘Are you sure you’re OK?’ Dario asked.

‘It’s the heat, that’s all,’ she told him abruptly. ‘Sun like this is so rare in England, I’m not used to it.’

‘Then take care of yourself.’ Suddenly his voice was unexpectedly firm. ‘Keep to the shade, and always wear a hat. When I see you again, I don’t want it to be as a sunstroke victim in the local casualty unit.’

Raising one hand in a salute, he rode away. Josie found herself staring after him and had to apologise to Giacomo, the workman. She didn’t need a translation of the workman’s reply. His knowing chuckle was enough to give her a pretty good idea of what he was thinking. Blushing furiously, she made a point of turning back to her study of the ancient stones that were being used to repair the wall rather than watch Dario.

Work first, play later, she repeated to herself—but for once her usual mantra didn’t seem quite so comforting.

Dario couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but there was something about Dr Josie Street that unsettled him. He kept thinking about her pale face and tense movements on and off for the rest of the day. She was socially awkward and dressed to disappear into the background rather than make a fashion statement. All the same, he could see why his sister had taken to her—Josie had a charm all of her own. She was delightfully easy to tease, and her innocence was irresistible for someone whose social palate had felt somewhat jaded of late. She had been so animated in her conversation with Giacomo. Dario had seen her gestures from a hundred yards away and automatically assumed she needed a translator. It was only as he rode nearer he saw she was simply engrossed in her subject. He liked that. He hadn’t been nearly so keen on the way she seemed to lose all her self-confidence when she saw him.

She went out of her way to communicate with Giacomo, but she could barely string two sentences together once I appeared, he thought.

For a moment, Dario was reminded of Arietta. He had no idea why, because she had been the complete opposite of Josie—talkative with him, but almost silent in company. Forcibly dismissing the image of his late fiancée, he tried to think of something else. It should have been easy enough. After all, he had lived without Arietta for far longer than they had been together.

But to find her loss could still hurt him acted as a powerful warning.

Arietta’s memory will not be allowed to come back to haunt me again tonight, Dario thought firmly as he got ready to go out for dinner that evening. As he fastened a pair of solid gold cufflinks into his white dress shirt, he heard the rapid crunch of gravel from outside. Looking out of a window, he saw Josie striding away into the distance, so he strolled out onto his balcony.

‘Where are you off to in such a hurry?’ he called down to her. ‘Can I give you a lift?’

She stopped and turned in a clatter of falling equipment. She was carrying a shuttle tray but it was piled far too high with trowels, brushes and other tools. Now half of them were slithering to the ground.

‘Thanks …’ she put a hand across her chest as though trying to hide her practical but dull overalls ‘… but I couldn’t put you to all that trouble …’

‘It’s no trouble.’ He swung back into his suite but, by the time he had pulled on his jacket and made his way down to the courtyard, she was gone.

Dario kept a lookout for Josie as he drove towards the main gates of his estate a little while later. When he spotted her, she was already hard at work beside the old boundary wall. They waved to each other in passing. That was something; but Dario knew she must have virtually run like a rabbit to have got there so fast. He wondered why. There could be nothing scary about him.

Little scenes with Josie kept edging their way into his mind all that evening, despite the attentions of several female guests. Unlike Josie, they were all dressed in the finest clothes that Milan, Paris and New York had to offer. Everything—all their glamour, all their charm—was aimed straight at him. Dario got the same treatment at every party he attended, so he was used to it and hardly noticed. Occasionally he allowed himself to succumb to the flattery, but for some reason his heart wasn’t in it tonight and his mind started to wander. What sort of dresses might his new house guest have brought with her? He looked around the assembly, idly imagining Josie dressed in purple silk or black satin. At that point his mind veered off on a very interesting tangent.

I’ve got sheets that colour, he thought. I wonder what Josie would look like between them.

Just then a waiter materialised silently at his side. The man was holding a chilled bottle of champagne wrapped in stiff folds of linen.

‘No, thanks, I’m driving.’ Dario waved him away regretfully, but the interlude put a mischievous thought in his head. He always enjoyed champagne, and kept a good selection of vintages back at the castle.

I’m sure a glass or two of that would help Josie celebrate her first day at the rock face, he thought.

Making his excuses to his host, he left and made a rapid escape.

By the end of the day Josie was so tired she could barely put one foot in front of the other, but she could not have been happier. For most of the time she had been alone, which for her made work more relaxing than any holiday. However, in spite of her determination, her mind had kept wandering in the direction of Dario and she needed a rest.

Dragging herself off to bed, she set her alarm very early so she could write up her notes first thing and still be outside before sunrise. The last thing she remembered was the low drone of a powerful engine, cutting through the velvet darkness outside. As she closed her eyes, she remembered the way Dario had described the view from the solar by night and the beautiful turbulence of his expression when he’d looked at her. It was enough to send every other thought clean out of her mind. Drifting off to sleep in her sumptuous empress-sized bed, she smiled. This was a wonderful place, but Dario was full of dangerous temptation for her. The only safe place for an encounter with him would be in her dreams.

By the time his car swung into the courtyard, she was fast asleep.

Dario leapt out of his car but, before he called for a chauffeur to take it away, he glanced up at the West wing tower. It was in total darkness. That was a blow. Hoping Josie had simply switched off her lights to enjoy the view from the windows as he had suggested, he fetched a bottle of champagne and a couple of glasses. Then he went up and tapped on the door of her suite.

Never mind. She can still have the full Castello Sirena treatment, he thought, ignoring his disappointment that he wouldn’t be there to share it with her. Scribbling a quick note on the bottle’s label, he stood it outside her door.

For some reason he couldn’t quite fathom, he wanted to tempt Josie into having a little fun, more than he’d wanted anything for a while. His interrupted dinner party was proof enough. Maybe her resistance was simply a new challenge? Whatever the reason, clearly he wasn’t going to be able to get her out of his mind until he’d won her over.

A long, leisurely lunch should kick things off nicely, he decided.

Josie was so polite, Dario knew she would never be able to refuse his invitation.

He smiled as he strolled off to bed. It would be deliciously ironic to use her typical English reserve to build bridges between them …

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