The Passionate Italian 11 DECEMBER EPUB by Diana Fraser Page A

turned away from Giovanni and pressed her eyes tight shut. She knew well. The two were opposites with a pile of emotional issues thrown into the mix for good measure. Their relationship had always been a minefield ready to explode. She’d made sure that she wasn’t the touch paper two years ago. But it looked as though Giovanni wanted her to provide the match now.
    “I can’t give you the proof yet. But I’m close.” She swung around to face him. “Giovanni. Are you sure you want to do this? The amounts involved are nothing compared to the company’s turnover. You’re going to blow the family apart.”
    “The family was blown apart many years ago by my mother’s infidelities and my father’s violence. And my brother has wasted his life.”
    “And continues to do so at some resort or other.”
    And boy, was she relieved. She didn’t know where he was and she didn’t want to know. So long as he was nowhere near her and not expected any time soon, that was good enough for her.
    “You miss him?” Giovanni’s voice was a whisper.
    She looked at him in disbelief. “No, of course not. Why do you ask?”
    “I received the distinct impression that you like him. A lot.”
    She shook her head. “I don’t know where you got that idea from—probably Alberto.” She raised her eyebrows. “The concept of a woman not attracted to Alberto is foreign to him.”
    It was as if she’d struck a match, lit a light in his eyes. For the first time in the weeks since she’d returned, Rose saw the old familiar spark of heat, of passion, of humor once more in his eyes. It warmed her like nothing else, attracting her to its flame.
    She rose and stepped closer.
    “Your family has a lot to answer for Giovanni.” More than he would ever know. “But it’s your father you blame most, isn’t it?”
    “What he did tore our family apart. Tore me apart,” he added softly. “And made my mother’s philandering even worse. Without his violence she would have been less unhappy.”
    “And spent more time with you and your brother. Loved you more.”
    “She loved my brother enough. For myself, it isn’t important. No, it was my father’s weakness that I despise. My mother,” he shrugged, “she knew no better.”
    Rose’s eyes shot open. “Your mother never gave you what you needed most. She abandoned you.” She touched his arm.
    He looked down at her hand in dull puzzlement.
    “As did you, Rose.”  
    She snatched back her hand as if he’d scalded her.
    “I had no choice, Giovanni. You don’t understand.”
    “If you’d tried to explain, I may have understood. You obviously didn’t believe I would and you could have been right. But the time for explanations is gone—I’m no longer interested in them.”
    “Then why am I here!” she blazed. “Why drag me across the other side of the world where I was happy.”
    “You weren’t happy. You existed merely.”
    “How would you know?”
    “Because I know you—with or without explanations, with or without logic—I know you. I know you on a level that you will never understand.”
    “Know me perhaps, but want me no longer.”
    “Why do you think I do not want you?”
    He moved closer to her, his head tilted to one side, his expression curious. She stood tall, trying to hold her own under his scrutiny.
    “Because apart from that night on the plane you haven’t touched me.”
    “And you would welcome my touch?”
    His hands were firmly pushed into the pockets of his trousers but he stepped closer to her again until she could sense the comfort of his body so close.
    “I, I didn’t say that.”
    “But you implied it.”
    She shook her head as if to shake herself out of the hole that she’d just created. She tried to step around him but he was too quick and blocked her way.
    “Answer my question.”
    “I don’t intend to. A minute ago you wanted me to get ready for a charity ball. Well, let me go and get dressed.”
    “No.” He lazily drew a hand from his