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Her gaze dropped to her case. She didn’t have either a smaller case or a rucksack....
‘Give me one minute,’ she said, speaking over her shoulder as she hurried back into the house. In record time she’d grabbed an oversized handbag and shoved her passport, phone, purse, clean underwear, toothbrush, and a thin sundress into it. The rest of her stuff, including some research papers she’d been reading through for the past week, she left in the case.
This was an adventure after all. Her first adventure in fifteen years.
‘Is that all you’re taking?’ Francesco asked when she rejoined him, taking the bag from her.
‘You’re the one who said to bring something smaller.’
He made a noise that sounded like a cross between a grunt and a snort.
She grinned. ‘You’ll have to try harder than that to put me off.’
Nostrils flaring, he shoved her bag into the side case then thrust the helmet back into her hands. ‘Put this on.’
‘Put this on...?’ She waited for a please.
‘Now.’
How could anyone be so cheerful first thing in the morning? Francesco wondered. It wasn’t natural.
What would it take to put a chink in that smiley armour?
With great reluctance, he reached over to help her with the helmet straps. Even through the darkened visor he could see her still grinning.
If he had his way, that pretty smile would be dropped from her face before they boarded his plane.
‘Have you ridden on one of these before?’ he asked, tightening the straps enough so they were secure without cutting off her circulation.
She shook her head.
‘Put your arms around me and mimic my actions—lean into the turns.’
Only when he was certain that she was securely seated did Francesco twist the throttle and set off.
* * *
Francesco brought the bike to a halt in the airport’s private car park.
‘That was amazing!’ Hannah said, whipping off her helmet to reveal a head of hair even more tangled than a whole forest of birds’ nests.
If his body wasn’t buzzing from the exhilaration of the ride coupled with the unwanted thrum of desire borne from having her pressed against him for half an hour, he would think she looked endearing.
His original intention had been to take advantage of the clear early-Saturday-morning roads and hit the throttle. What he hadn’t accounted for was the distraction of having Hannah pressed so tightly against him.
And no wonder. Those trousers...
Caro Dio...
Behind that sensible, slightly messy exterior lay a pair of the most fantastic legs he had ever seen. He’d noticed how great they looked the night before, but the ridiculous pink tutu had hidden the best part: the thighs.
Not for a second had he been able to forget she was there, attached to him, trusting him to keep her safe.
Where the hell did she get this misplaced trust from?
In the end, he’d kept his speed strictly controlled, rarely breaching the legal limits. Not at all the white-knuckle ride he’d had in mind.
His guards were already there waiting for him, forbidden from following him when he was riding in the UK. It was different on the Med, especially in Sicily. The only good thing he could say about England was he never felt the need to have an entourage watching his back at all times.
In as ungracious a manner as he could muster, he pulled Hannah’s bag from the side case, handed it to her, then threw the keys of his bike to one of his men.
‘What are you doing?’ he asked, spotting Hannah on her phone. It was one of the latest models. For some reason this surprised him. Maybe it was because she was a virgin who dressed in a basic, functional manner that he’d assumed she’d have a basic, functional phone.
‘Answering my emails,’ she said, peering closely at the screen as she tapped away.
‘From who?’
‘Work.’
‘It is Saturday.’
She peered up at him. She really did look ridiculous, with the heavy jacket clearly weighing her down. Still, those legs... And that bottom...
‘Hospitals don’t close for weekends.’ She flashed him a quick grin. ‘I’ll be done in a sec.’
Francesco had no idea why it irked him to witness Hannah pay attention to her phone. He didn’t want to encourage her into getting any ideas about them but, all the same, he did not appreciate being made to feel second best.
‘All done,’ she said a moment later, dropping the phone back into her bag.
Once the necessary checks were made, they boarded Francesco’s plane.
