Chapter Twenty-nine

The money had been taken from the garden fund around the same time as the money from Andrea's company. In many ways it could be seen as another strand of the same offence, she told herself bracingly.

When she appeared for breakfast, Andrea acknowledged her with an inclination of his handsome dark head. He was poised by a desk across the room and talking in rapid Italian, and it was clear to her that he was fully engaged in business. She watched him covertly while she chased some cereal round a bowl, her appetite steadily dwindling at the prospect of the dialogue that lay ahead.

Andrea tossed the phone aside and strolled fluidly towards her. In a well-cut suit the colour of rich caramel, a silk shirt and a narrow trendy tie, he was drop-dead beautiful, she acknowledged helplessly.

‘Sleep well?’ he enquired casually.

‘Yes … thanks.’

‘I didn’t.’ Lean, powerful face intent, Andrea lounged back against the table edge. He watched her with a smouldering intensity that spoke louder than any