The Villa by Nora Roberts Page B

front of the house. "It's just the three of us. Let's check it out. We'll get the stuff later."
    "I'm very sorry," Pilar murmured when the kids bolted from the van. "I shouldn't have assumed—"
    "Natural assumption. A man, a couple of kids. You expect the full family complement. Don't worry about it." He patted her hand casually, then reached across to open her door. "You know, they're going to have to fight over the bedrooms. I hope you don't mind screaming scenes."
    "I'm Italian," was all she said and stepped out into the rain.

CHAPTER FIVE
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    Italian, David thought later. And gorgeous. Aloof and gracious at the same time. Not an easy trick. In that area, she was her mother's daughter.
    He knew how to read people, an invaluable trick of the trade in the climb up the slippery executive ladder in any major corporation. His read of Pilar Giambelli was that she was as accustomed to giving orders as she was to taking them.
    He knew she was married, and to whom, but since she hadn't been wearing a ring he assumed the marriage to the infamous Tony Avano was over, or in serious trouble. He'd have to find out which before he let himself consider her on a more personal level.
    There was a daughter. Anyone in the business had heard of Sophia Giambelli. A firecracker by reputation who had style and ambition in spades. He'd be meeting her along the way, and wondered just how she'd taken to his induction as COO. Might have to play some politics there, he mused, and reached for the cigarettes in his pocket. Only to remember they weren't there because he'd quit three weeks and five days earlier.
    And it was killing him.
    Think about something else, he ordered himself, and tuned in to the music played at a brutal volume in his son's new room. Thank God it was at the other end of the hall.
    There'd been the expected combat over bedrooms. Still, his kids had been fairly restrained all in all. He put that down to reluctant manners in front of a stranger. In any case the squabble had been out of habit and without real heat as every room in the house was appealing.
    Damn near perfect, he thought, with its gleaming wood and tile, silky walls and lush furnishings.
    The perfection, the casually elegant style, the absolute order of things gave him the willies. But he expected the kids would soon put that to rights. Tidy they weren't. So however polished the box, the contents would soon be jumbled and they'd all feel more at home.
    Already weary of unpacking, he wandered to one of the windows and stared out over the fields. Pilar was right. The view was stunning. This was part of his turf now. He intended to leave his mark.
    Down the hall Maddy wandered out of her room. She'd tried to act casual about it after arguing with Theo over who got what. The fact was she was thrilled. For the first time in her life she didn't have to share a bathroom with her idiot brother. And hers was done in this cool pattern of dark blues and deep reds. Big splashy flowers, so she imagined taking a bath there would be like swimming in some weird garden.
    Plus she had a huge four-poster bed. She'd locked the door so she could roll all over it in privacy.
    Then she'd remembered that she wouldn't see New York when she looked out the windows, or be able to call one of her friends and hang out. She wouldn't be able to walk to the movies whenever she felt like it. She wouldn't be able to do anything she was used to doing.
    Homesickness had settled so hot and heavy in her belly it ached. The only person she could talk to was Theo. It was the poorest of choices, in her opinion, but the only one left.
    She pushed open his door to a blast of the Chemical Brothers. He was lying on his bed, his guitar across his chest as he tried to match the guitar riff blasting on his stereo. The room was already in chaos, as she imagined it would stay until he moved out to go to college.
    He was such a pig.
    "You're supposed to be unpacking."
    "You're supposed to mind your