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.No doubt about it: she was sulking!Undeterred, he continued his running commentary, but admitted to himself that he was beginning to revise his plan of attack.Slow seduction just might not work with a woman like her.She was too disciplined; too sensible.Sweeping her off her feet, quickly before she had time to talk herself out of it, offered a greater chance of success.“Valletta’s known by a number of other names,” he recited, swerving the car to avoid a street vendor escaping the heat by pushing his cartload of fruit into the shade of the city walls.“Citta` Umilissima, a gentleman’s city, the Fortress City, to name but a few.”“Really,” she said, without a flicker of expression.“How interesting.”Certamente! About as interesting as watching paint dry! Frustrated, he swung a sideways glance at her.Before they’d left the villa, she’d changed from the fetching lemon sundress she’d worn at breakfast into a modest flowered skirt which came midway down her calf, and a white cotton blouse.With her hair secured in a long scarf whose ends fluttered behind her like the tails of a kite, and big round sunglasses covering her eyes, she could, if she’d shown an iota of animation, have passed for another Audrey Hepburn.Instead she better resembled a frozen-faced Greta Garbo.“The so-called ‘modern’ version of the city was built by the Knights of St.John,” he continued doggedly, dragging his attention back to the road.“The architecture, as you’ve no doubt noticed, is primarily baroque, although there’s ample evidence of a much earlier period.It’s said that the islands are one big open-air museum dating back seven thousand years.”“Fascinating,” she said, which was an outright lie because she was steadfastly refusing to take in a word he said.“Si.Molto affascinante!” He grimaced.“Almost as fascinating as the fact that I keep all my other ex-wives chained up in the cellar.Your cousin is the only one to have escaped which, of course, explains her eagerness to have you come here in her stead.”“I see.”“You’ll probably be next.I’ve never been able to resist blond American women.”She swung her head to face him, her attention caught at last.“What did you say?”“Trovaro bionde Americane irresistibile.”“I don’t understand Italian.”“Nor English, it would seem.” He reached across and removed her sunglasses, which startled her into looking him in the face.“Look, I know you’re ticked off because we didn’t bring Nicola along, but what was the point when, as you yourself said, she’s suffered enough upheaval lately? She’ll be perfectly safe with Beryl.”“Beryl doesn’t know her routine.”“Nor do you, if what you’ve told me is true.You met her for the first time little more than a week ago.”“At least I’m used to babies.But Beryl—”“Will let us know if a problem arises.” He patted her knee lightly.“There’s such a thing as telephones, cara mia, and unlike Marcia, Beryl knows how to use one.”If he’d touched her with a cattle prod, she couldn’t have reacted more violently.Snapping her knees together, she sent him a scorching glare.“Do you mind!”“Per carita, will you loosen up? I’m trying to show you a good time, not seduce you in full view of every Dick, Tom and Harry who happens to be looking our way.”“It’s Tom, Dick and Harry.If you’re going to use colloquialisms, get them right.”“Si, Signorina! Whatever you say, signorina! Either way, your virtue’s safe—” he let his gaze drift over her, and deliberately dropped his voice to a husky murmur “—al meno al momento.”At least for the moment, la mia bella!“What did you say?”“The menu,” he improvised, not about to translate, and gave her the benefit of his most ingenuous smile.“How is it you say it in English—what shall we put on our lunch menu?”She regarded him with all the suspicion of a woman confronting a scorpion.“I don’t believe that was it, at all— and I don’t trust you.”“Che peccato! I am crushed!” He shrugged and swung the car down an alley so narrow, neighbors on either side could have leaned out of their windows and shaken hands with one another.“You car’s likely to be crushed, too, if we meet another vehicle.Slow down, for heaven’s sake!”“It’s a one-way thoroughfare, cara.We’re perfectly safe.” He shifted gears, zoomed through an ancient gateway leading to a shady piazza and parked in the shadow of the bastion walls.“Do you like Sicilian food?”“I don’t know that I’ve ever tried it.”“Then you’re in for a treat.” He helped her from the car and, cupping her elbow, led her across the piazza to where four tables were set out under dark green umbrellas.“I’ve been coming to this trattoria for years.It’s one of the smallest on the island, and arguably one of the best.”She slid into the chair he held out for her, unwound the scarf from her head, and combed her fingers through her hair.“In that case, I’ll let you order for me.”“Buono!” He nodded to the waiter approaching their table.“Ciao, Gismondo! Come sta?”“Bene, grazie, Signor Brabanti.” He nodded at Eve, including her in his reply.“E lei?”“We’re ready for one of your excellent lunches—something special for my guest.This is her first experience with authentic Sicilian food.Cosa raccomanda lei?”“Seppia e linguine, fresca stamani.” He joined thumb to forefinger and kissed them exuberantly.“Di prima qualitya`!”“He recommends the cuttlefish, caught fresh this morning,” Gabriel translated for Eve.“It’s served in its own black sauce, with pasta.Think you can handle it?”“I’ll try anything once.”He grinned.She was an uptight pain in the neck much of the time, he wasn’t sure he trusted her any more than she trusted him, but he found himself liking her anyway.“Good for you.We’ll end up friends yet.”He turned back to the waiter, ordered the cuttlefish, with caponata to start, and a carafe of Sicilian Pinot Bianco.“What’s caponata?” she wanted to know, the minute the wine was poured and they were alone
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