He did remember. It had been their talking place. A place for hiding out. He'd come across it one day when he'd arrived up at the villa with Adam to see if the girls wanted to go swimming in the waves that lapped the beach. The moment Adam saw Rosa they'd started an animated conversation.
"She's over there, somewhere." Rosa had waved in the direction of the silent garden.
Eventually he found her. The roses were tangled then, much like today, obscuring the plain wooden bench. Melo sat with her head in a book. Her long legs were tucked up under her and she was so engrossed she hadn't heard him coming.
Cade grinned, remembering the way she squealed when he dropped down beside her. She'd swatted him and held her hand to her chest in shock.
"What's so funny?" Melo asked.
"I was just remembering the first time I saw you here."
"You almost gave me a heart attack." The corners of her lips rose.
"What were you reading? Do you remember?"
It hadn't mattered, back then. He'd grabbed her hand and had pulled her up. Told her the others were waiting, and she should change into her swimsuit. Now, curiosity bit hard. He wanted to know what had held her in thrall so many years ago.
"I can't remember." Her face colored and she avoided his eyes.
She remembered all right, but for some reason wasn't telling him. She smoothed her dress with restless fingers, her head bent so a long tendril of hair brushed against the side of her neck.
Her skin looked soft. Invitingly kissable.
Cade angled his leg away from hers. "So, are you going to be next?"
Melo's gaze flickered to his. "What?"
"Married," Cade answered.
Melo laughed. "No."
"Don't believe in it?" Cade leaned closer and let his lips brush against her ear as he whispered, "I don't blame you. I don't either."
"It's just not for me." She changed the subject. "How is your family-still as crazy as ever?"
"Monica is married, but the other two are still as wild as they ever were. I keep telling my mother she doesn't need to worry about them anymore, they're all over the age of consent, but you know how it is."
She nodded. "Mothers worry."
"Yeah."
At least his mother didn't need to worry about money anymore. He'd made enough to buy her a comfortable house outside London, and made sure the girls would want for nothing. After his father's death, Cade had been forced early to assume the role of head of household. His mother and sisters were his responsibility.
Melo shifted on the bench, the little movement brushing her thigh against his. A rush of awareness shot through him. He swallowed. When he was a teenager he'd confided in Melo. She knew more about him than any woman, even his mother and sisters. She'd been in the right place, at the right time. And more than that, she'd been the right person.
His mother and sisters needed a strong male to handle everything, a role he'd slipped easily into. But the unexpected holiday on Isola dei Fiori, away from the confines of home had given him the gift of freedom to be himself-and he'd confided his deepest secrets to Melo, while his best friend followed her sister around like a lost puppy.
Even Alison … With a start Cade realized he'd never told his ex-fiancée about his father's death. He'd never offered the information, and she never asked.
The last woman on earth he should be attracted to was Melo. Cade breathed deeply, struggling to pass the message on to his disobedient body.
"So, what are you doing now? Working in the family business?" he asked.
The Bellucci vineyard was hugely successful. Marco had built an empire to be proud of.
"No." Melo looked surprised at his question. "I'm only here for the wedding. I have a business in Florence." Her long fingers reached out and smoothed the soft perfumed petal of a red rose. "I'm a financial advisor."
Cade would have expected her to say she was a model, or a fashion designer; she had a definite way with clothes. Somehow, he couldn't picture her in the cutthroat world of big business.
"My clients are mostly owners of very successful businesses which have overextended. I come in and advise them how they can maximize their returns from investment. Get them back onto the straight and narrow." Melo's face became animated and she visibly relaxed as she spoke about her work.
"Where did you study?"
"Florence. I have a degree from the university there."
"Didn't you want to work in the family business?" A vague memory niggled of Melo talking of her hopes, her dreams. He was pretty sure she'd wanted to be involved in the Bellucci winery.
"Not anymore." Melo shook her head and pursed her lips. "Papa is very independent. He doesn't need my help." Her fingers dropped from the rose and she clasped them in her lap. "And now he has Adam working with him, he's preparing for the future."
Cade nodded, he'd spent long hours listening to Adam's plans.
"Don't you want to be involved?"
He couldn't work her out. When she'd been a teenager she'd been so passionate about the island he couldn't imagine her abandoning her dreams easily.
"My father is a very traditional man, Cade," Melo said huskily. "He feels the Bellucci winery should be run by men. Some of my male cousins work there, but the only position offered to me was that of secretary-whether I came into the business with a degree or not." She crossed her arms, drawing his attention to her chest. "In my business I don't have to deal with sexism. The quality of my work speaks for itself." She glanced at him. "My business has become very successful. It's grown by word of mouth. I don't have to lean on my family name or connections." Her tone and the flash from her bright eyes indicated she was proud of it too.
She was confident and self-assured. As well as her appearance, the whole way she interacted with people was different. She'd been in the shadow of her sister when she was younger, that much was evident.
Cade stroked a finger down her smooth arm. He leaned closer. "You've changed." And how. She was nothing like that lanky kid. Back then, he hadn't even thought of her as a female. Now he couldn't think of anything else but kissing her. Running his lips over the soft curve of her neck.
"Outside, maybe. Inside I'm the same."
She trembled at his touch. Her irises expanded. She licked her lips nervously. Awareness flared and he couldn't look away.
A noise on the gravel outside their hidden idyll alerted him to the fact they were no longer alone. A throat cleared, and his hand dropped from her arm instantly.
"Scusami, Melo. Tuo padre vuole parlare con te … " The stranger sounded apologetic.
Melo shot to her feet, replying to the woman in Italian. She turned to Cade.
"My father is looking for me. I have to go."
He nodded. The night was young. "I'll see you later."
****
Marco Bellucci sat on the chair in his room, fully dressed in a dark suit, which emphasized his pallor. He looked frail. His mouth was twisted and worry added years.
"Hello, Papa." Melo sank down next to him. She pushed an errant lock of hair back from her face. The heavy swathe was beginning to unravel. She should have taken advantage of the hairdresser seconded to the island for the duration when pinning it up. She reached up and pulled out the clips, letting it swing around her shoulders, before it fell down on its own accord.
"Melo. I need to talk to you before the dinner." Her father's weak voice trembled. He twisted his hands together, agitation rising with every breath.
Melo breathed deeply. "Okay, Papa."
Marco's eyes avoided hers.
She had to lean forward to hear the words he muttered slowly.
"I have been very foolish. And now, I am ill, and I need you to sort out my problems for me." His jaw was clenched tight. He was a proud man. He'd never asked for her help before. "You remember the investment opportunity in Mezzuti?"
How could she forget? The Mezzuti Group was known for building large, showy hotels and, flushed by their success, had offered an incredible investment opportunity in their growing apartment business. She'd been asked her advice on it for a number of her clients. She'd pored through the figures. The paperwork was long and complex, and for the average person, incomprehensible. It had taken hours of evaluation before she'd seen the catch. The returns were immense, but the risks enormous. And there were no guarantees.
She'd had no compunction about advising her clients to avoid it like the plague. In fact, her advice about Mezzuti was the reason her company had gone from strength to strength. The catastrophic collapse of Mezzuti's apartment fiasco had been front page news for weeks now. Investor upon investor had lost their shirt in the ill-advised property developments. Her blood ran cold as she eyed her father's pale face. Her father hadn't mentioned Mezzuti before. Hadn't asked for her advice.