A Dangerous Infatuation Read Online Free PDF Page A

hallway. Flora Symmonds had been exquisitely beautiful, she mused as she studied the painting of the world-famous actress who had died unfairly young and at the height of her career.
    ‘She was stunning, wasn’t she?’ Rocco halted next to her and followed her gaze. ‘My dear
mamma
—beautiful, talented, but unfortunately a lousy mother,’ he said harshly.
    Emma gave him a shocked look. ‘You don’t mean that.’ She was glad Cordelia had walked ahead of them into the sitting room and could not hear her grandson.
    ‘It’s the truth.’ Rocco’s jaw hardened as stared at the portrait of his mother. ‘Both my parents were selfish and self-obsessed. They should never have had children, and they quickly realised that fact and sent us away to school as early as possible.’
    ‘Us?’ Emma was puzzled. Cordelia had only ever spoken of Rocco, as if he was her only grandchild.
    He was silent for so long that she thought he was not going to answer her, but then he said quietly, ‘My younger brother and I attended boarding school in England. Cordelia was more of a parent to me than either my mother or father. I spent many school holidays here at Nunstead when my parents were both away making films.’ He turned his head from his mother’s picture and gave Emma an amused smile. ‘I agree that the Northumberland NationalPark has some great walks. I spent a lot of time exploring the moors when I was a boy.’
    Emma felt her face redden at his reference to their conversation in the car, when she had been unaware of his identity. ‘I didn’t realise you were familiar with the area,’ she muttered, adding a touch defensively, ‘It’s a pity you didn’t explain who you were.’
    He shrugged. ‘I did not know you were on your way to visit my grandmother and saw no reason to introduce myself. I see now that your concern for Cordelia was justified,’ he added honestly. ‘If I had known she was living alone I would have immediately come to England and made other arrangements regarding her care.’
    She believed him. The affection Rocco felt for his grandmother was evident in his voice, and Emma felt ashamed of the way she had been so quick to judge him. ‘I’m sorry about your recent bereavement,’ she mumbled. ‘I hadn’t made the connection, until Cordelia spoke of him, that Enrico D’Angelo was your father. He was a brilliant actor. I was shocked when I read about his death in the newspapers a few months ago.’
    Although Rocco did not appear to have been close to his parents, it must be hard to have lost both of them, she thought. She guessed he was in his mid-thirties, which meant he would have only been a young man when his mother had driven her car along a clifftop road on the French Riviera and taken a hairpin bend too fast.
    The accident had made headlines around the globe. Flora Symmonds and Enrico D’Angelo had been world-famous film stars whose tempestuous marriage, numerous affairs and bitter divorce had been played out in the media spotlight. It was little wonder that Rocco had preferred to spend his school holidays with his grandmother, in the peaceful surroundings of Nunstead Hall.
    Her eyes strayed against her will to his sculpted face. He met her gaze, his golden eyes gleaming, and her heart gave a little flip when his mouth curved. She might have known that his smile would be devastatingly sensual. He was the archetypal alpha-male—good-looking, confident and oozing sex appeal. Just like Jack, and exactly the type of man she had vowed to avoid like the plague.
    The timely reminder of her husband served as a cold shower, dousing her awareness of Rocco. He was a charmer, but she was determined not to be charmed, and her smile was distinctly cool as she murmured, ‘I think you had better carry the tea in before it stews.’
    Five minutes later Rocco grimaced as he watched Emma remove the dressing on Cordelia’s hand to reveal a large patch of raw scarlet skin. ‘That looks painful,’ he said