Second Chances in Chianti (Escape to Tuscany Book 2) by T.A. Williams (best ereader under 100 TXT) 📗

for it being cold, but on such a hot, sticky night, she was more than happy to eat wonderful freshly carved ham, aromatic orange-fleshed melon, little mushroom vol-au-vents, bruschetta and a fine mixed salad. As they ate, they chatted and he told her more about his meteoric rise from middle-of-the-road journalist to multi-millionaire. For her part, she told him all about her years in Hollywood and the recent negotiations at the villa that had resulted in her decision to withdraw from the new project, only to say yes to a few guest appearances as a result of the events involving Zoë. It was good to talk freely – now that they had both revealed their respective secrets – and the more they talked, the more her conviction started to strengthen again that he was a good guy and not out of the same mould as his unscrupulous protagonist, Justin.

At the end of the meal, they went up onto the open roof where the hint of a breeze made the temperature more bearable. They leant against the hefty stone wall that ringed the top of the tower and looked out into the shadows of the Tuscan night. He pointed out little clusters of light here and there in the distance that were houses, villas and villages. It wasn’t completely silent. Down below them, the shouts of children from the floodlit pool showed that Conrad’s granddaughters were being allowed to stay up late. Alice could see a couple of adults there, too, but at this distance it was impossible to recognise who they were. This reminded her about the job that Antonia had just offered her and she told him all about that as well. He sounded enthusiastic and she quizzed him about his own future projects.

‘By the way, last time I was here you were telling me you were struggling to get started on your next book. Is that true?’

‘Like I said, everything I’ve told you has been true and, unfortunately for me, I really have the worst case of writer’s block since Snoopy sat down and wrote, “It was a dark and stormy night.”’

‘What sort of thing are you planning on writing? You mentioned humour, I think, didn’t you?’

‘To be honest, that’s at the root of the problem. My agent and publishers are pushing me to go for the same sort of thing again – you know, outrageous, offensive and controversial. Me, personally, I’ve learnt my lesson. I don’t need the money now and I’d like to write something far less contentious. Living here in Tuscany, I’ve even been thinking about a historical novel. You’re the historian, maybe you can come up with some suggestions. I’d be eternally grateful.’

An idea did come to mind. ‘How about Amerigo Vespucci? After all, your home appears to be intimately connected with him. You could draw on the handful of hard facts that are known about him and about Columbus, and produce a dramatised version with the two of them competing for the big prize – although I’m not sure if they even ever met in real life. Certainly, it would be a good way of popularising a story that’s shrouded in mystery and I’d be happy to give you a hand with researching the historical facts.’

His reaction was instantaneous. He turned towards her, caught her face between his palms and kissed her with real feeling. Finally, he drew back and she saw the moonlight reflecting in his eyes. ‘Alice, that’s brilliant, really brilliant! That should go down a bomb with the American market and my agent will love it. You’ve made me a happy man.’

Alice could think of a few more ways she could make him – and herself – even happier but, for now, she said nothing. Instead, she kissed him back and then buried her head against his chest, just savouring the fact that there were no secrets left between them. Hopefully.

‘I’m glad you approve. I’ll see what else I can dig up but maybe you could even write a romantic scene with Amerigo and the love of his life standing up here, in this exact same place. People like a bit of romance.’

‘Don’t we all?’ His voice was soft and gentle.

She reached up again so she could kiss him long and lovingly on the lips. She felt him respond and his arms tighten around her, only for him then to straighten up and take a step back.

‘And do you think you can forgive me for writing that damn book?’

‘Only if you can forgive me for not telling you about my dodgy past on the TV.’

‘That’s good, it’s a deal.’ But then, instead of taking her in his arms, he glanced down at the dog by his side. ‘I think it’s time I took Guinness for his evening walk.’

A feeling of disappointment returned to Alice, but for a very different reason this time. She could tell he was hesitating before taking things further and she couldn’t understand why. They had both now aired the truth about their past and she had come to terms with what he had referred to as his ‘dirty little secret’. Surely, he could see that she wanted things to progress, but short of dragging him off to the nearest bedroom, she didn’t know what else to do. Still, she followed him back down the stairs behind the dog, who had run on ahead, tail wagging in anticipation. She felt a pang of regret as they passed the bedroom doors on their way down, but she put on a brave face. When they got outside, Matt caught hold of her hand and turned towards her.

‘If you’d like to walk a bit, the moonlight should be bright enough for us to see the way. We could go across to my vineyard, if you like, and you can see how I’ve been spending my time.’

There was no doubt whatsoever in Alice’s mind that she could think of a far better way for them to spend their time, but evidently