"But it's impossible," he said.
She nodded. "Damn near. I don't know what we're going to do."
Cade released her and pulled on his clothes. "All right." He slipped his feet into his shoes. "Let's get you home."
Melo let herself into the darkened villa, and strode into the office. She flicked on the light, closed the door carefully and leaned against it with closed eyes. Her skin still tingled from Cade's touch. He'd kissed the mole on her cheek, then slid his lips down to tease the corner of her lips in a caress that had almost been her undoing before opening the car door. She'd wanted to stay.
Her legs shook as she crossed the room to the old polished oak desk. She flicked on the desk light and pulled out the file she'd been working on. Then powered up the computer. If she went to bed she'd just lie awake thinking of Cade. He'd been so tender, so vulnerable when he spoke about his father's addiction and the loss of his family home. If she couldn't find a solution to their problems her family's home and business were in jeopardy too. She popped the end of her pen, pushed her hair back behind her ears, and opened the file.
An hour later, Melo pushed her hands through her hair. It was impossible. Marco had used the company money like his own personal bank account. Signed a contract without consulting anyone else, and made no prudent allowances for what would happen if it all went wrong.
As it had done. She stared at the line of figures proclaiming the truth in blood red. Proclaiming the end of life as they knew it.
There were only two possibilities. The first was to bring in a partner to The Bellucci Winery, but with the obvious signs of mismanagement, that would be almost impossible. And Marco would never agree. He was always adamant the company should remain a family business. She puffed out a frustrated breath. If he'd originally let her do what she was so good at, this never would have happened. She'd played the dutiful daughter role too long. Stood on the sidelines while her father gambled with their future. Now there was no option but to confront him on it.
The other option burned in her gut. Marco had suggested they sell land, and it had been no throwaway line either. She'd seen the flash of knowledge in his eyes. The gleam that hinted he'd thought about it, and was concealing something. Something important.
She pulled out the map showing the Bellucci lands marked in diagonal red stripes. The vineyard, a few acres of scrub, unproductive except for the old olive trees her grandfather had planted.
And the land where her grandfather had proposed to her grandmother. That her grandmother had bequeathed to Melo in her will. Cold fingers tightened around her heart, and squeezed. It was the only saleable location.
Marco's glance had been laced with guilt. The reason hit home, hard. Beautiful, unspoiled, facing the azure sea. The most desirable spot on the island. The place she'd dreamed of building her house.
Paradise Beach.
Chapter Seven
The door creaked open, then the room flooded with light as the curtains were pulled back. Melo's eyelids flickered open. Her eyes felt gritty, as if she'd been crawling all night through the desert. She rubbed at them, wishing she were still asleep.
A boisterous body compressed the mattress. Rosa.
"Where did you get to last night?"
Melo clamped her eyes shut again. Playing dead.
"I know you're awake. I saw you. Come on, Melo." Rosa's tone altered from bossy to persuasive. A finger stroked Melo's arm. "I brought coffee."
Melo breathed in and opened her eyes to take in Rosa's grin. Could there be anything worse than a happy bride? She scooted up in bed, resting her back against the headboard, and felt a smile tug at the corner of her mouth. Rosa's mood was infectious, it was impossible to stay grouchy at her for long.
"Coffee first," Melo said.
Rosa obediently placed the china cup in her sister's hand. Her feet were tapping on the floor and her whole body was doing the tell-me-all-about-it twitch. She bit at her bottom lip as Melo slowly drank, impatience rolling off her in waves.
Melo took her time. Payback for the early morning wake-up call. It was a familiar scenario. When they were children Rosa had always needed to know everything now. She hadn't changed. And her sister taking it slow had always tickled and teased.
"Melo!" A high-pitched, frustrated plea.
They'd always shared everything.
Melo capitulated. "It was a lovely party, wasn't it?"
Rosa's gaze held hers steadily. Like a captain navigating the rocks watches the lighthouse. Unblinking. But her hands fluttered on her lap.
"It was wonderful. Until I realized you'd disappeared. And Cade too." Her voice dropped. "I searched everywhere for you. Adam did too. We checked the garden, the bedrooms … "
"I went out." Melo focused at the coffee grounds in the bottom of her cup. Rolled one between her front teeth. Talking about Cade seemed wrong. What had happened between them too young, too new to share. Her gaze flickered to Rosa. Her sister wasn't letting it go. Melo breathed out. Here goes. "Cade and I went to the hotel."
"I knew it!" Rosa's eyes shone, and the nervous energy bottled up in her slender form exploded out as she sprung off the bed. "You and Cade! Oh, Melo it's just perfect."
Melo put the cup on her bedside table, and Rosa sat down again, grabbing Melo's hands and bouncing them on her knee in a childlike expression of glee.
Melo's heart clenched. "It's nothing serious."
The burning desire to consummate the heat that flared every time they were together had overtaken them both. But Cade thought she was an experienced woman of the world. She'd done all the chasing at the poolside. And he'd been inflamed by her flirting with Sebastiano. After spending the night together, she yearned for him to want her as much as she did him. But in her heart she knew it was different for him. It had been hot, easy sex, nothing more.
"Come on, Melo. It is. You've always been in love with Cade. You used to tell me." Rosa stroked Melo's hands slowly. "It's a good thing." Her glance flicked to Melo's face. "Isn't it?"
When I grow up, I'm marrying Cade.
She'd said it often to Rosa when they were teenagers. Had written it in the diary hidden under her bed. Had believed it with all her heart. She'd been a child-woman, with a wide open heart which had ached for Cade. In her romantic fantasies Cade had returned to the island. Wooed her. Told her how he'd dreamed of her too. Told her he loved her.
"It's early days yet," Melo replied quietly.
Today's Cade was different. Older, harder, more determined. In a lot of ways she didn't know him at all. Her stomach clenched, and she pulled her hands away from Rosa's. Their lovemaking had been wonderful, but his silence last night had been telling. There'd been no talk of tomorrow. No talk of love.
"I don't really want to talk about it." Melo pulled back the cover and stepped out of bed. She needed distance. Needed time alone to think, before the woes of the world came rushing in. "I'm going to Paradise."
Rosa's frantic body movements stopped. She stepped closer, and grasped Melo's hand. "Is everything okay?" Her eyes searched Melo's and a tiny frown creased the skin between her eyebrows. "Did Cade … "
"Cade was wonderful."
Melo looked away. Wonderful, but not in love. The realization burned. And she couldn't really blame him either, she'd been right there, as carried away as he was. But where did they go from here? Tomorrow was the wedding, and then he'd be gone. Back to his life.
"But?" Rosa murmured.
"But I … Oh God, Rosa. I don't know. What future is there in it?" Her hands clenched into fists. Her head ached with possibilities. And the knowledge today she had to talk to her father and insist they cancel the improvements to the winery. And once again, carry the weight of everything on her shoulders. "I just need to get away for a while. I need to think."
Rosa leaned forward and kissed her sister's cheek.
"It's an easy day today. Everyone's doing their own thing. No one will miss you, I'll cover." She squeezed Melo's hand. "It'll all work out." She stepped back, watching Melo with concern in her eyes. "I'm here when you want to talk about it."
Melo nodded. "I know."
Rosa was exasperating, demanding, spoilt. But Rosa was loyal too. Rosa would always be there.
****
The white sand of Paradise Beach was so fine it was like walking on clouds. In the early morning, the beach was deserted, apart from the sea birds that wheeled and cried overhead. Melo walked across the line of tiny shells that formed an undulating line marking the tide's last foray toward land, fingering the necklace around her neck.