Amedeo's Love Affair

By Kate Hofman

When the Conte di Sant’Angelo meets a fascinating woman on a ski trip, the two develop a friendship that quickly develops into something more. Interference from family and friends bring chaos to this new relationship. Will a move to a Florida beach and a sham engagement throw off those who wish to end their happiness?

• Language: English
• Publisher: DCL Publications
• Release date: Jul 8, 2020
• ISBN: 9780989193726

Kate Hofman

Born in The Netherlands, we went to live in London, England, when I was eighteen.BFA – Art History, Major. Interior Design, Minor.Moved to Montreal, Canada. (I figured I might as well be paid for being fluent in French). Married Arnold Hofman, a truly fabulous man. Owned and operated an art gallery for twelve years. Widowed ten years ago. Became friends with Nina Bruhns, who urged me to write.I did as I was told, and in the next five years I wrote two dozen books. I figured that’s what it would take to learn to write. And I was wrong!Rose Brungard took pity on me and gave unstintingly of her own expertise, sending long teaching e-mails, which helped me a lot.I also owe my grateful thanks to Thea Devine, who taught me to play “What If” when the writing isn’t going well.And more recently, I have been given generous help, encouragement and advice by Jennifer Mueller, a wonderful writer, who also provided the stunning cover art for all my books published by Romance At Heart. I owe you all so much.Sincerely,Kate Hofman

Book preview

AMADEO’S LOVE AFFAIR

By

Kate Hofman

DCL Publications, LLC

www.thedarkcastlelords.com

© 2013 Kate Hofman

All rights reserved

First Edition April 2013

DCL Publications

1033 Plymouth Dr.

Grafton, OH 44044

ISBN 978-0-9891937-2-6

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information and storage retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

Cover design by Kim Killion

PUBLISHED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

First of all my delighted thanks to Julian Christian, who generously gave me a gift certificate for a Kim Killion cover for this novel. Thank you, Julian, you lifted my spirits a mile high! And I loved the photo you picked for the cover.

~ ~ ~

As so many times before, my gratitude to my critique partner, Mary Everett, who patiently did research for me, and helped me to recover quickly from an unexpected accident.

~ ~ ~

Many thanks to Katherine Barrett, an English Lit. graduate, who edited my book so imaginatively. Equal thanks are due to DCL’s Editor-in-Chief, Jean Watkins, for her final ‘typically Jean’ touches and approval.

Prologue

Milan, Italy – mid-March.

Amadeo di Sant’Angelo glanced in his cheval mirror. Dinner clothes—impeccable. He shrugged. What else is new? Marcello is an excellent valet. Trouble is, I don’t feel in the least like going to this dinner party, but having accepted, I guess I’ll have to.

For a moment, his dark, long-lashed eyes took on a dreamy quality.

Ah, those few days in Lucino—skiing the double diamond trails with Heidelinde…

Instantly he felt happier. Next month, he would fly to Wiesbaden to pick her up for a holiday—starting at his villa in Tuscany, and flying on to Ocean Breeze, Florida, for some surfing. He wondered whether Heidelinde would know how to surf. Well, if she didn’t, he hoped she’d like to have him teach her. Nothing like the extreme high a surfer reached when riding a huge wave all the way down. He smiled to himself. He could think of another way of reaching an extreme high with Heidelinde. Quickly, his smile changed to a frown when he felt his penis stir at the mere thought of her. He shook his head impatiently. Better not think about that now. Time he was on his way to that accursed dinner party. He hoped his hostess hadn’t invited several young women, matchmaking her purpose. His sensual but disciplined mouth twisted. He walked into his library, and reached for the phone on his desk. He pressed a blue button.

~Signor Conte?~

"Lino—I’m ready for you to drive me to Conte Balducci’s dinner party."

~Yes, Sir. I’ll alert the other bodyguard.~

Who’s on with you tonight?

~Filippo, Sir.~

Good. Have you both eaten?

~Yes, Sir. The conte’s butler knows we will need to keep you and the others in sight.~

Very good, Lino, thank you. Let’s go then, and I hope I can leave the party soon after dinner.

~The Signor Conte does not wish to go to the dinner?~

"Not much, Lino. But one has to be vaguely sociable at times, and Conte Balducci is a good friend of mine."

~Yes, Sir.~

* * * *

Amadeo was rapturously received by his friends. Carina, the contessa, referred archly to two lovely young women—convent-educated, pure!—whom she wanted him to meet. She felt sure Amadeo would be charmed by them.

Her husband, Pietro, raised an eyebrow to his friend. I wish I knew how to stop her asinine matchmaking projects, but in eleven years of marriage I haven’t succeeded. He shrugged, grinning. If there is anything more boring than a pure, convent-educated girl of eighteen, I don’t want to meet it. But Carina goes blithely on her way finding these girls and throwing them at your head. As if you didn’t get enough of that from your mother… He bent a little closer to Amadeo. Moreover, I heard that you were quite taken with a young woman you went skiing with at Lucino.

Amadeo nodded, smiling. You’re right. A bright, beautiful, intelligent young woman, excellent skier, and would you believe she and her girlfriend thwarted an attempt at kidnapping me—or worse—keeping the criminals at bay until my bodyguards caught up to us.

Pietro nodded. I heard something about that. They had learned karate in classes to keep rapists at bay. Came in handy this time. He frowned. It’s a good thing your bodyguards are alert. Our enemies grow bolder.

Amadeo shrugged. Yes, I am very satisfied with my bodyguards. Basically, it seems that no one wants to work any more, they want to find a way of getting their hands on our money without the tedium of actually working. He smiled grimly. They should be so lucky.

Pietro touched his friend’s arm. You stick with your skiing girlfriend, Amadeo—never mind Carina’s protégées.

Amadeo smiled. I plan to do just that, Pietro.

* * * *

On his way back from the dinner party, Amadeo yawned. It had mostly been as he expected, boring young girls trying to make a fuss of him, and Carina gazing expectantly at him with that ‘Is this the one?’ expression. Fortunately he had been able to spend some time with Pietro.

Soon he would fly to Wiesbaden and pick Heidelinde up for a holiday in Tuscany. Suddenly he sat up straight. He would phone her and ask if they could start their holiday early in April or at the end of March, rather than wait for Easter, which was very late this year. He nodded to himself. Heidelinde would agree, he felt sure.

Amadeo was unaware of the blissful smile that had crept around his lips.

Chapter 1.

Wiesbaden, Germany – March 31.

When Amadeo’s plane landed, he and his bodyguards went quickly through the usual formalities. The pilot and co-pilot would look after the rest.

Once outside the small terminal for private planes, the bodyguards walked on each side of Amadeo to a limousine with chauffeur. Lino frowned.

Sir, I’ll have Filippo sit up front with the rental company driver, and I’ll have to come inside the passenger compartment with you.

No problem, Lino. Make sure that the man realizes he will not be required to do any driving—you and Filippo will do that.

Filippo is speaking to the car rental company now, Sir. He’s telling them to pick the chauffeur up at the address of your lady. We will drive the limo from then on, and leave it for them to pick up at the airport when you’re ready to fly to Tuscany.

That’ll be on Monday, Amadeo observed. Lino nodded.

* * * *

Once they entered Wiesbaden, it did not take them long to arrive at the Taunusstrasse and find the small Kaisersweg off it where Heidelinde lived. Amadeo glanced up—a nice, older apartment building—he’d have preferred living in such a place himself, rather than a modern glass and steel tower. He smiled to himself, finding the buzzer for Heidelinde’s apartment—obscurely pleased to see that her name-plate only showed H. Müller.

Heidelinde’s voice came through the intercom, sounding just a tad breathless.

Yes?

It’s Amadeo.

Amadeo… she sighed. Please come up. The door buzzed.

He held his hand up to Lino. Go back to the limo—wait for me to come back with the lady, he said, as he pushed the front door open. He saw a small lobby with an elevator, and a set of stairs at the back. After a glance at the elevator, he ran up the stairs, two at a time. When he reached the first landing, he saw Heidelinde down a wide hallway—her silky blonde hair a beacon for him. She was smiling, holding the door to her apartment wide open.

Amadeo… Her voice was a husky whisper. She stepped back into her apartment, and Amadeo followed.

Heidelinde—at last. With that, he placed his hands on her shoulders, drew her a bit closer and kissed both her cheeks in Mediterranean salute.

Heidelinde kissed him back. After they had gazed at each other for a few moments, clearly delighted, she gestured for him to enter her combined living-room and library. The three inner walls had bookshelves to about chest height. The fourth wall had tall windows and French doors to a balcony. In one corner of the room was a desk with a chair behind it, and near the windows Heidelinde had created a cozy conversation corner with two love-seats in a dark moss-green suede and some comfortable-looking upholstered chairs in a toning print fabric, surrounding a big olive leather ottoman, on which a book and some magazines lay. Small drinks tables stood where needed. Attractive table lamps and one standing lamp provided the lighting.

Amadeo gazed around, liking what he saw. The books looked read, and above the bookshelves, paintings of quality glowed on the walls.

I like this room, he said. Heidelinde smiled and indicated the seating arrangement.

Please sit down, she said. Would you like coffee, or would you prefer wine? I didn’t know whether you would get a meal on the plane…

You forget, the plane is mine, and they would serve anything I wanted, but I wasn’t hungry. His dark eyes caressed her. I guess I was in too much of a hurry to see you.

She smiled. It was much the same for me, Amadeo.

Ah. She was in a hurry to see me too.

Calmly, he said, "I have reserved a suite at the Nassauer Hof, as my flight crew will not be able to turn around and fly from here to Tuscany without the statutory rest period. So I thought we’d stay here over Sunday, and fly to Tuscany on Monday morning. We’ll spend as much time there as you wish. And then we’ll fly to Ocean Breeze, Florida, for the second part of our vacation. Will that suit you?"

Heidelinde smiled. Any plans you make will suit me just fine. I cleaned out my refrigerator, so I can’t offer you dinner at my place…

"Why do you think I have a suite at the Nassauer Hof? he asked. I am planning to spoil you totally there. Casually, he added, It’s a two-bedroom suite, and I was thinking if we move your luggage now to the hotel, we don’t have to come back here."

Heidelinde smiled. "What a great idea, Amadeo. I’ve only once been in the Nassauer Hof—five stars!—for a company reception. And I’ll feel my holiday will really have begun when I leave the apartment. Let me just tell my neighbour I’m leaving now. She has promised to water my plants." She slipped out of the front door,