‘The only way that’s going to happen is if you find your reasonable gene and let me return to Dublin.’
‘You’re welcome to return to Dublin any time you like,’ he said, smiling to disguise his irritation. ‘I have made it clear what the consequences will be if you do so.’
‘Like I said, you need to find your reasonable gene. Find it and I might lose my sarcastic gene.’
‘I have already found my reasonable gene. It is unfortunate it differs from your definition of reasonable but there you go—you can’t please everyone.’ He expanded his hands and mocked a bow. ‘Now, my fiery little geisha, it is time for us to leave.’
‘What did you call me?’ The look she gave him was no mere scowl. If looks could turn a man to stone he would now be made of granite.
‘So touchy.’
‘Calling me a geisha is pretty much on a par with calling me a concubine.’
‘Not at all—a concubine is a permanent fixture in a man’s life, there to give pleasure. A geisha is a hostess and an artiste. It is rare for a geisha to have sex with a male client.’
She didn’t look in the slightest bit mollified. If anything, her scowl deepened.
‘I can see I have my work cut out with you,’ he said with a theatrical sigh. ‘Maybe it is a good thing you will be with me for five months—I fear it will take me that long to get a smile out of you.’
* * *
Cara sat upright as they drove into a heliport, or whatever the name was for a field with a great big white helicopter with red Mastrangelo livery on it, and an enormous hangar right behind it.
Her stomach turned over at the sight of it. ‘Please tell me we are not travelling in that thing?’
‘It’s either an eight-hour round trip to the vineyard by car, or we can do it in a quarter of the time in this beauty.’
‘I vote for the car.’
‘Sorry, cucciola mia, but I vote for the chopper. An hour there, an hour back.’
‘It’s a split vote.’
‘It’s my time and money.’
‘Do I have to come? Can’t I just wait here?’
‘Yes, you do have to come.’ For the first time she detected an edge to his voice. ‘I’m not arguing with you again. I assure you, the ride will be perfectly safe and comfortable.’ To prove his non-arguing point, he opened his door and got out.
She stuck her tongue out at his retreating form, watching as he joined a trio of men standing by the helicopter, all wearing black overalls. She guessed they were the flight crew.
The interior of the helicopter settled her nerves a touch. It was much less tinny than she had thought a helicopter would be. If anything, it was rather plush. She climbed aboard and sat down on a reclining white leather seat. Pepe showed her where all the big-boy-with-too-much-money gadgets were located on the seat, including a foldaway laptop.
‘Aren’t you sitting with me?’ she asked, perturbed when he went to climb back out.
He grinned. ‘One of us has to fly the thing.’