‘But we were going to the theatre-’

‘Could you bear not to? I have rather neglected business recently-’ he flicked her cheek gently ‘-all your fault.’

‘Tossing me into the lions’ den, huh?’ she asked with a chuckle.

He put his arm around her. ‘We’ll go in together.’

On the short journey to the Ritz he talked about his brother, who ran the vast family estates in Sicily. By hard work and shrewd dealing he’d transformed the vineyards and olive groves, making them produce three times as much, buying up land, expanding, making Martelli the top name in fine produce in every luxury store and hotel throughout the world.

‘He thinks of nothing but work,’ Lorenzo complained. ‘How he can make more money, and more money. Me, I prefer spending it.’

‘I’m sure he knows that. He wants to see who you’re spending it on.’ She touched the pearls, which were elegant and restrained, but clearly expensive.

‘He’s ready to like you. Trust me.’ As they reached the Ritz and he handed her from the taxi, Lorenzo murmured, ‘Don’t be afraid of him.’

‘I’m not. Are you afraid of him?’

‘No way. But he’s the head of the family, and in Sicily that’s very important. However fierce he was, he was always my wonderful big brother who’d stick by me, help sort out my problems-’

‘Deal with the girls’ fathers?’ Heather suggested mischievously.

Lorenzo cleared his throat. ‘That’s all in the past. Let’s go in.’

Heather was curious to meet this man who was so important in Lorenzo’s life. She looked around at the luxurious restaurant with its elegant marble and floor-to-ceiling French windows, hung with heavy red curtains.

On the far side a man sat alone at a table. He rose as they approached him, a polite smile of welcome on his face. Heather strove to match it through the tide of indignation that welled up in her.