from the door?' she asked.
His hands tightened on the wheel, the only sign Emma could see of his tension. 'When I left fifteen years ago he made it quite clear I would not be welcome to return. I did not bother testing him to see if he meant it or not.'
Emma made an exasperated sound. 'But don't you see how you were being as stubborn as him? I am sure he would have welcomed you with open arms if you had come back.'
He gave her a flinty look. 'Still trying to defend him, Emma?' he asked.
She compressed her lips for a moment. 'I'm not doing any such thing; I just think two wrongs never make a right.'
His expression was mocking as he came around to open her door. 'He did a good job on you, didn't he?' he said. 'But then he bought your allegiance.'
Emma stepped out of the car, flinging him a glare over one shoulder. 'Could we talk about something else for a change?' she asked. 'I thought you said this evening's outing was going to be about building our acquaintance, not talking ad infinitum about your late father.'
He shut the car door and took her elbow in the cup of his palm. 'You are right,' he said, and led her towards the restaurant entrance. 'I am not being a very good date so far, am I?'
Emma cast him a glance. 'No, but believe it or not I've had much worse.'
'Is that some sort of compliment?' he asked with the hint of a wry smile.
Emma didn't get the chance to answer as the maitre d' came to lead them to a table in the little courtyard outside. A short time later they were seated with drinks and a plate of warmed olives and fresh crusty bread set in front of them.
Rafaele picked up his glass and slowly twirled the contents. 'So tell me, Emma,' he said. 'Marriage and kids is high on your to-do list, is that right?'
'If the right person comes along, then yes.'
'Are you one of those young women who have a checklist on what they are looking for in a man?' he asked.
'I don't see a problem with sorting out what you don't want from what you do,' Emma said.
'So what's on your list?'
'The usual things,' she said. 'Faithfulness, a sense of humour and a willingness to be emotionally available.'
'You did not mention money.'
'That's because it's not as important as love.'
He gave her a cynical smile. 'It is always important, Emma,' he said. 'At least it is for all the women I know.'
'I don't agree,' she said. 'Your father is a perfect example of how money doesn't buy love. He had more money than he knew what to do with and yet he didn't have the love and respect of his son.'
'That's because he did not want it,' he said. 'Now, I thought we were not going to talk about him - or have you changed your mind?'
'I'm just trying to understand you, Rafaele.'
'I do not need your understanding, Emma,' he said. 'What is it about women that they always want to pick apart a man's brains? Now, be a good girl and choose something to eat. I am starving after my swim.'
Emma let out a sigh and busied herself with the menu, all the while conscious of the way her body was responding to his close proximity. She knew his desire for her was purely a physical thing on his part; he was between mistresses so why wouldn't he want a quick fling with her to satisfy the primal urge to copulate? Her cheeks grew hot as her brain filled with images of him in the throes of making love, his strong, tanned naked body glistening with sweat as he pumped his essence into the secret heart of her until she...
'Have you had too much sun today, Emma?' Rafaele asked. 'Your cheeks are bright red.'
Emma fanned her face with the menu. 'Um...it's still a bit hot, don't you think?'
'Would you prefer to move indoors where there is air-conditioning?' he asked.
Her eyes fell away from his. 'No...I'm fine out here,' she said and picked up her drink. 'I like being outdoors.'
'I suppose you must spend a great deal of time indoors in the role of a nurse.'
'Yes...if the patient is housebound.'
A small silence passed.
'How ill was my father towards the end?'
Emma brought her eyes back to his. 'He was very ill,' she said softly. 'He had to have high doses of morphine to control the