By Anne Mather
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Certainly, the four bedroom suites, each with its own dressing-room and luxurious bathroom, were not what she had been used to before her marriage. The village she had come from in Tuscany, and where Ben's grandmother still lived, was a simple place, where life continued as it had done for generations. In many ways, Ben envied his so-called 'poor' relations, despite his mother's contempt for them. His cousins might have no ambition, as Sophia frequently declared, but at least they were happy. They had no doubts about their future, and there had never been any conflict of loyalties, such as Ben had lived with all his life.
As she had expected, Ben was in the kitchen, and he looked up somewhat dourly at her entrance. Like her, he was still not dressed, but she guessed from the terseness of his expression that her occupancy of his bedroom was the real reason he was still in his bathrobe. 'Good morning,' she said, refusing to be daunted by his evident disapproval of her attire. ' And it was. Ben had opened the windows in the kitchen, and the sun-soaked air was heady with the scent of the flowers that grew in the walled courtyard below.
Her dark eyes, so like his own, narrowed. ' Ben released his breath, not without some relief. 'The tour was—exhausting,' he agreed, drawing back from her clinging fingers, and adopting what he hoped was a rueful expression. 'It's good to be back home. ' Sophia's eyes widened. ' Ben cursed his careless tongue. 'I—didn't say that, exactly,' he temporised quickly, glancing back towards the car and then deciding to leave the cases until later. 'Um—I could do with a long, cool drink right now. ' Sophia gave him a last considering look before leading the way into the villa.