asking,” he teased. “You know what Italians are like!”
“Don’t even think about it,” Tamara answered coolly. “I’m on a working holiday, ok?”
“Now, now, is that the way to work up a good appetite? Let’s try and be civil with each other,” Simon said soothingly.
The Palazzo Marchesi turned out to be one of those villas built on an opulent scale but which had been modernised so as to retain its style and grandeur but include every modern convenience. Tamara was relieved that she had been allocated her own bedroom - I won’t have to have THAT conversation - which was a complete, private, suite. Quickly showering and changing into a white top and jeans, she went downstairs to find Simon was seated on the patio under a vast white parasol with an open bottle of champagne in an ice bucket.
“This is an amazing place,” he greeted her. “Quite spectacular. However did you locate it?”
“Ah - we have our secrets,” Tamara said mysteriously, inwardly thanking Donna for following up a conversation she’d had with an old flame at an industry convention. “What’s your room like?”
“Room? It’s a complete apartment in itself. The wood panelling is exquisite and I swear there’s a fresco by Piero della Francesca in the chapel.”
“The chapel?” Tamara gasped.
“Yup. It leads off my bedroom. You know what these guys who once lived here were like. High jinks in the bedroom and then you could get forgiven by a priest next door!”
“That’s so rude!” Tamara cried, laughing. “Mind you, I suspect you need a lot of forgiveness, so you’re in the right room!”
“Now, Now, Miss Morality. I know you disapprove of me,” he said, pouring her a glass of champagne.
“What do you mean?”
“The way you always sounded on the phone when I gave you details of who I am travelling with. You never have to say anything exactly, it’s just your tone of voice. And then the barely suppressed delight when you found out that I’d been stood up for this vacation!”
“That would have been extremely unprofessional of me, Mr Henty,” Tamara said formally, glancing at the staff who were waiting to serve their antipasti. “And, now, if you don’t mind, I’d rather not discuss work while we dine.”
“There you are, you see. All prim and proper,” he teased.
Their meal was exquisite, or so Simon said as they stood on the balcony in the darkness overlooking the campagna. “I didn’t know we had so much in common,” he said to her, “An interest in business, a fond dislike of our clients, and mutual respect for each other’s talents!”
“You have twisted everything I said,” Tamara answered, “except for an interest in business!”
“What else are you interested in?” Simon murmured, turning towards her. Without pausing for an answer, he moved closer towards her and laid his hand on hers. “It’s been a lovely evening,” he said quietly. “Thank you.”
Uh oh - Il Signore Henty is trying it on!
“It’s been lovely for me too,” she said. “And, well, you were terrific company!”
He pulled away from her. “That sounded terrible! Was I that boring? Look, I’m going to be busy most of tomorrow, so you can relax. I’ve got meetings lined up and you can hide in the grounds and read an uplifting novel.”
“I thought you were supposed to be on holiday?”
“There are European bankers I need to meet in person. Once I’ve got them out of the way I’ll switch off.”
“So what do you do to relax?”
Simon shrugged. “I’ll chill by the pool…. Enjoy the local wine…. And - get to know you better, maybe.”
Tamara was disturbed by the direction her mind was moving. Like it or not, she was beginning to find Simon attractive: his tall, lean, solid body. The way his eyes crinkled when he smiled. His infectious laugh. And the way her stomach fluttered when he touched her.
“Is this the man who was chiding me for being critical?” she
“Don’t even think about it,” Tamara answered coolly. “I’m on a working holiday, ok?”
“Now, now, is that the way to work up a good appetite? Let’s try and be civil with each other,” Simon said soothingly.
The Palazzo Marchesi turned out to be one of those villas built on an opulent scale but which had been modernised so as to retain its style and grandeur but include every modern convenience. Tamara was relieved that she had been allocated her own bedroom - I won’t have to have THAT conversation - which was a complete, private, suite. Quickly showering and changing into a white top and jeans, she went downstairs to find Simon was seated on the patio under a vast white parasol with an open bottle of champagne in an ice bucket.
“This is an amazing place,” he greeted her. “Quite spectacular. However did you locate it?”
“Ah - we have our secrets,” Tamara said mysteriously, inwardly thanking Donna for following up a conversation she’d had with an old flame at an industry convention. “What’s your room like?”
“Room? It’s a complete apartment in itself. The wood panelling is exquisite and I swear there’s a fresco by Piero della Francesca in the chapel.”
“The chapel?” Tamara gasped.
“Yup. It leads off my bedroom. You know what these guys who once lived here were like. High jinks in the bedroom and then you could get forgiven by a priest next door!”
“That’s so rude!” Tamara cried, laughing. “Mind you, I suspect you need a lot of forgiveness, so you’re in the right room!”
“Now, Now, Miss Morality. I know you disapprove of me,” he said, pouring her a glass of champagne.
“What do you mean?”
“The way you always sounded on the phone when I gave you details of who I am travelling with. You never have to say anything exactly, it’s just your tone of voice. And then the barely suppressed delight when you found out that I’d been stood up for this vacation!”
“That would have been extremely unprofessional of me, Mr Henty,” Tamara said formally, glancing at the staff who were waiting to serve their antipasti. “And, now, if you don’t mind, I’d rather not discuss work while we dine.”
“There you are, you see. All prim and proper,” he teased.
Their meal was exquisite, or so Simon said as they stood on the balcony in the darkness overlooking the campagna. “I didn’t know we had so much in common,” he said to her, “An interest in business, a fond dislike of our clients, and mutual respect for each other’s talents!”
“You have twisted everything I said,” Tamara answered, “except for an interest in business!”
“What else are you interested in?” Simon murmured, turning towards her. Without pausing for an answer, he moved closer towards her and laid his hand on hers. “It’s been a lovely evening,” he said quietly. “Thank you.”
Uh oh - Il Signore Henty is trying it on!
“It’s been lovely for me too,” she said. “And, well, you were terrific company!”
He pulled away from her. “That sounded terrible! Was I that boring? Look, I’m going to be busy most of tomorrow, so you can relax. I’ve got meetings lined up and you can hide in the grounds and read an uplifting novel.”
“I thought you were supposed to be on holiday?”
“There are European bankers I need to meet in person. Once I’ve got them out of the way I’ll switch off.”
“So what do you do to relax?”
Simon shrugged. “I’ll chill by the pool…. Enjoy the local wine…. And - get to know you better, maybe.”
Tamara was disturbed by the direction her mind was moving. Like it or not, she was beginning to find Simon attractive: his tall, lean, solid body. The way his eyes crinkled when he smiled. His infectious laugh. And the way her stomach fluttered when he touched her.
“Is this the man who was chiding me for being critical?” she
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