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siesta in the shade of the trees, the chirruping of birds and the lazy hum of bees in the surrounding vegetation the only sound disturbing the warm scented air. Cherry could hardly believe she’d told a virtual stranger about Liam and Angela, but then maybe it was because Sophia was a stranger that it had proved so easy. That and these incredibly beautiful and surreal surroundings.
    This whole interlude felt like a step out of time, she thought drowsily in the moments before sleep overcame her. It was as though she had been transported to another dimension—a dimension ruled by a dark and autocratic overlord with a heart of stone.

CHAPTER THREE
    W HEN Cherry awoke it was because some sixth sense was telling her to beware. From a deep sleep her eyes flew open, and she raised her head to stare into the beautiful smoky-grey eyes that had featured in a dream she now couldn’t remember but which she knew had been disturbing.
    ‘Sleeping Beauty.’ Vittorio’s voice was soft and deep. ‘This is a fairytale, si ?’
    It might be—but never had the Prince been dressed in nothing but a brief pair of swimming trunks, and she didn’t think even Prince Charming’s body could compete with the man in front of her. The flagrant masculinity had been raw enough when Vittorio had been fully dressed. Now it was positively alarming. His thickly muscled torso gleamed like oiled silk, and he had obviously just been in the pool because the tight black curls on his chest glistened with droplets of water. The hair on his chest narrowed to a thin line over his flat belly, disappearing into the trunks, and his thighs were hard and powerful. He looked lean, lithe and dangerous, and undeniably earth-shattering.
    Cherry swallowed. There was something about Vittorio Carella which made her feel completely subjugatedand painfully feminine. She could cope with the second emotion, but the first was causing her hackles to rise again. Nevertheless, she did what she’d promised herself she would do the next time she saw him and said quickly, ‘I must apologise for not thanking you properly for allowing me to stay. I’m not usually so rude.’
    He eyed her speculatively for a moment, then stretched out on the sun-lounger his sister had used earlier. Lazily, he drawled, ‘Then why so remiss today, Cherry?’
    She might have known she couldn’t expect him simply to accept her apology and leave it at that. It took all of her considerable willpower to bite back the tart retort hovering on her tongue and say flatly, ‘Probably because we got off on the wrong foot.’
    ‘The wrong foot?’ He was clearly amused. ‘This is an English expression, si ? But why did we get off on this “wrong foot”, eh? I think I know the answer to this.’
    She stared at him, not knowing what to say.
    ‘For some reason you do not like me. This is true, si ?’
    She could tell he was enjoying her discomfiture, playing with her like a cat with a mouse, and nothing could have stopped her next words. ‘As it happens, you’re dead right.’ So much for the apology. But it was his fault, not hers.
    ‘You are an independent woman, I think. Strong. And surprisingly unmaterialistic.’
    She didn’t know if she agreed with his opinion—certainly with regard to the first two attributes. She hadn’t felt very strong lately. Weakly, she said, ‘Surprisingly?’
    ‘I have found most modern women are driven by avarice and greed when it comes to looking for a partner in the opposite sex.’
    Cherry reared up like a scalded cat, glaring at him with shocked eyes. ‘That’s absolutely ridiculous.’
    ‘You think so?’ He smiled coldly. ‘But this is not a criticism, Cherry. Most mothers want their daughters to marry well and live a life of luxury. It is natural. And most daughters are only too pleased to be guided by Mamma in this respect. Over the last years I have had a whole host of such daughters paraded before me by hopeful matrons who probably know to the last euro what