‘Vincente,’ she said, giving him a little shake. ‘Vincente.’

Another shake made him move-not much, but just enough to show her his face, revealing that her worst fears had been realised.

He was asleep.

At first she wanted to scream her vexation and frustration to the world, but then the sight of his softened features caused a surge of tenderness to go through her. She tightened her arms about him so that he settled into a more comfortable position, still with his head resting on her.

Somewhere in her mind a voice spoke, warning her that this was dangerous. The frantic hurly-burly of sex was something she could manage, and relish. But this treacherous sweetness was too much like the feeling she’d known with Angelo, and which she’d sworn never to know again. It was weakness, and she would no more yield to it than she guessed Vincente would himself.

But as long as they were both clear on that point, perhaps there was no harm in a little indulgence.

She smiled, drawing him closer still.

He slept without moving for three hours, while she felt her heart melt. She had no regrets about losing their passion. Tenderness was a more than fair exchange.

Elise dozed and awoke to discover him already awake, taking up exactly where he’d left off. As she moved against him he raised his head, meeting her eyes and inviting her to share the joke. And it was a joke, the funniest joke that had ever made her gasp with pleasure, so that mirth and passion blended into one, in the sweetest experience of her life.

‘Time for the real world,’ Vincente sighed as they lay together afterwards.

‘And that big shareholders’ meeting you’ve got coming up,’ she said.

‘How did you know about that?’

‘I’ve been reading the financial papers-purely to improve my Italian, you understand.’

‘Naturally.’

‘You’ve got a big fight on your hands, but you’re going to face them down.’

‘Without a doubt. I learned a lot of useful things in Sicily. When I’ve processed them I’ll be ready. Until then I’ll virtually have to live at work.’

‘So I’ll see you again when your meeting’s over-if I can find the time.’

His hand was working between her legs again. ‘I think you’ll find it,’ he murmured.

She didn’t argue. It wasn’t worth it.

She relished their battle of wits. It added spice to what would otherwise have been a one-dimensional relationship. She knew now that his need to make love to her was as fierce as her own answering need, and surviving until after his meeting was going to test her patience.

So it was a special pleasure when he cracked first.

Elise answered the phone and his first words were, ‘Can you ride a horse?’

‘Yes, I love riding, but I haven’t any gear with me.’

‘There’s a shop in the Via dei Condotti.’ He gave her the name, saying, ‘You’ll get the best there. How good a rider are you?’

‘I like a quiet mount.’

‘Fine. I’ll collect you tomorrow morning.’

He hung up.

It would have been nice to be able to tell him that for once he’d got it wrong, but when she entered the shop she found it as good as he’d claimed. This was annoying for a brief moment, then exhilarating as she plunged in, emerging with clothes that set off her figure to perfection.

‘You don’t think the jodhpurs are a bit tight?’ she asked cautiously.

‘They are certainly figure-hugging,’ the assistant conceded, ‘but the signora can risk wearing what others could not.’

Which was a polite way of saying that they hugged her behind provocatively.

‘I’ll take everything,’ she said.

Vincente was driving his own car when he arrived next morning, having called first to say he expected her to be waiting on the front step.

‘Yes, sir, no, sir, three bags full, sir,’ she’d recited.

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘Never mind. English joke. I’ll be there.’

‘Very good,’ he said as they drove away next morning. ‘I barely had to pause. That traffic attendant was ready to become very difficult.’

‘Difficult with you? Nonsense! He wouldn’t have dared.’

He didn’t reply but, glancing sideways, she saw him grinning.

‘I’m amazed you could spare the time,’ she observed as they headed out into the countryside. ‘Weren’t you supposed to be living at the office?’

‘Not a good policy. It could make the enemy think I’m worried.’

‘Good, good,’ she said, nodding. ‘You’ve probably got a photographer at the stables to take a picture showing how relaxed you are.’

‘Now that’s a trick I missed. Never mind, a man can’t think of everything.’

‘I thought you prided yourself on being able to do just that.’

He gave a crack of laughter. ‘You caught me fairly there.’

After a moment he said quietly, ‘I hope you know I wouldn’t impose a photographer on you without warning. You might not believe it, but I have enough manners for that.’

‘You’re right,’ she said demurely. ‘I wouldn’t believe it.’

He gave a shout of laughter. ‘I’m not that bad, am I?’

‘Is this place very far?’ she asked wickedly.

‘All right, for the moment I’ll let you snub me. You’ll change your tune when you see your mare. I chose her specially for you.’

‘So you think you can dictate that for me as well?’

Vincente grinned. ‘Wait and see.’

By now they were out in the country and a few minutes later they turned down a long lane that led to a riding stable. A groom led out an elegant dappled mare and introduced her to Elise as Dorabella.

‘But we call her Dora, ’he explained. ‘She prefers it. She’s very friendly. Signor Farnese said she would be just what you wanted.’

And she was. He’d even managed to get this right! But Elise was too preoccupied with stroking Dora’s nose and receiving a nuzzle in return to take exception.

Vincente’s mount was a magnificent stallion called Garibaldi, with fire in his eyes and impatience in his step. They set out together, but soon Elise sensed that Vincente and his mount were equally impatient to let rip.

‘Why don’t you take the edge off him first?’ she said. ‘I’ll go at a more gentle pace.’

He was away like the wind, while she took Dora up on to a slight incline from where she could watch him. Garibaldi leapt, soared and pounded the ground with a fierce vigour that echoed that of the man on his back.

Now they were out of sight, but after ten minutes she saw them again in the distance, racing with an exuberance that was almost violent.

‘I’m glad we didn’t go in for any of that,’ she told Dora, stroking her neck. ‘Why don’t we-oh, no!’

The cry was wrenched from her as Garibaldi soared over a fallen tree, then faltered, twisting in the air and hurling Vincente to the ground before heading down after him. For a terrible moment her inner eye saw the horse’s bulk landing on Vincente and crushing him to death. It seemed that nothing could prevent it, but then, with a mighty effort, Vincente managed to throw himself out of the way of the animal, then collapsed.

Elise galloped to where he was lying on his face, frighteningly still. She jumped from Dora’s back and knelt beside him, but he didn’t move.

‘Vincente!’ she cried frantically.

A groan was the only answer, but then, to her intense relief, he gave vent to a stream of curses as he began to push himself up with his arms.

But almost at once he gave up the effort and rolled on to his back.

‘You’re badly hurt,’ she said worriedly. ‘I’m going to get an ambulance.’

‘No ambulance,’ he said, suddenly fierce. ‘I don’t want anyone to see me like this. Where are the horses?’

‘There,’ she said, pointing. Garibaldi had survived the fall unhurt and was nibbling grass, with Dora close by.

‘Take them back to the stables,’ Vincente told her, speaking in painful gasps, ‘and fetch the car here.’

He could hardly move but as she made to get to her feet his hand shot out and gripped her.

‘No ambulance,’ he repeated. ‘You tell nobody. Promise.’

‘I’ve got to tell them the horse fell. He might need treatment.’

‘Him, not me. Promise.’

‘I promise-for the moment.’

Elise pulled free and ran to the horses, mounting Dora and taking Garibaldi’s reins. Back at the stables, she handed the animals over with a brief explanation, then ran for the car and in a few minutes was on her way back. She was frantic with fear lest he should have collapsed completely.

She found him sitting on a large stone, where he’d evidently dragged himself with a good deal of pain. He was clutching his side and gasping but managed to force a smile when he saw her stop the car close to him.

‘What did you tell them?’ he grumbled, grimacing.

‘Never mind that now. Put your arm around my neck. It’s only a couple of steps.’

She helped him stagger to the car and stretch out on to the back seat.

‘What did you tell them?’ he repeated.

‘Just enough to make sure they got a vet for Garibaldi. I said you had only a few bruises.’

‘Are you sure?’ he demanded suspiciously, clutching the back of her seat and hauling himself up.

She lost her temper. ‘Sure I’m sure,’ she yelled over her shoulder. ‘They asked why you weren’t coming back and I said it was because you were a miserable, ill-tempered so-and-so who couldn’t bear anyone to see him when he looked silly. They accepted that without question.’

He gave a grunt. ‘Fine.’

‘I’ll have you home in a minute.’

‘Not my home,’ he said quickly. ‘Yours. I don’t want to be seen by anyone who knows me. Just let word get around that I’m in this state and the jackals will start closing in on me.’

‘All right.’

Vincente collapsed back into his seat and said no more until they reached home, where he forced himself to limp to the lift without help, except for holding her hand. Through that contact she could feel the effort it cost him. He was trembling and the sweat stood out on his brow, and it was a relief when the doors opened to reveal nobody in the corridor and she was able to get him inside her apartment, unnoticed by anyone. There he collapsed again on to the sofa.

‘You need a doctor,’ she said.

‘I told you-no.’

‘Why all this mad secrecy?’ she demanded, exasperated.

‘It’s not mad, it’s essential. You know about the shareholders’ meeting, how important it is. There are going to be arguments that I have to win. I’ve got to be at my best, no sign of weakness.’

‘Too bad if you pass out,’ she snapped. ‘Of course they may not take that as a sign of weakness.’

‘Heaven save me from a managing woman!’

‘Heaven save you from your own stupidity! Vincente, listen to me. I’m not going to argue. You need treatment and I’m going to call someone, either a doctor to come here or an ambulance to take you away. Your choice.’

He glared at her. ‘You’re making a fuss about nothing.’

‘When a doctor tells me that, I’ll believe it. What’s your doctor’s number?’

‘Elise-’

‘It’s that or the ambulance, and you have ten seconds: nine, eight-’

‘All right! I’ll call the doctor myself-’ he yelled, before muttering under his breath, ‘so that you don’t make it sound as though I’m dying.’

‘Hah!’

‘What does that mean?’

‘It means I’ll say what I want to when he gets here and you won’t stop me.’

‘Cane dei to morti!’ he raged.

‘Anything you like,’ she said, recognising the curse. It had been one of Angelo’s favourites, and was an extremely rude comment about ancestors and their likely burial sites. ‘Now get on that phone.’

He did so, scowling at her in a black rage.

‘He’ll be right along,’ he growled at last, hanging up.

‘I’ll help you get undressed and into bed.’

‘Thank you,’ he said in a quieter voice.

‘Why have you stopped snarling at me?’

‘Because you weren’t taking any notice,’ he admitted wryly.

‘Then you’re quite right not to waste time on it. Put your arms around me and I’ll help you up.’

Vincente made no further argument, but allowed her to take him into the bedroom, where she stripped him down to his under-pants and settled him in bed.

‘I’m sorry I shouted at you,’ he said at last. ‘Sometimes I’m a bit-’

‘I know you are. More than a bit. Lie still.’

The doctor arrived ten minutes later. He and Vincente were old friends and said what they liked to each other. He conducted an efficient examination and snorted. ‘You’ve got off lightly,’ he said. ‘A twisted ankle and you’ve pulled a couple of muscles in your back, which probably hurts like the devil but isn’t serious. A couple of days in bed should do a lot. I’ll send a nurse in.’

‘No nurse,’ Vincente said at once. ‘I don’t want strangers.’