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Sam got into the car and her heart thudded heavily when Rafaele settled his powerful body behind the wheel. So far this morning she’d managed to avoid saying anything more than yes or no.
He glanced at her now and she had to acknowledge him. She turned and his gaze on her was intent. Her face grew hot as lurid images from the previous night came back.
‘Okay?’ he asked, disconcerting her because there was a quality to his voice she hadn’t heard before. It sounded intimate. Concerned.
Sam was sure she’d imagined it so nodded quickly and looked back at Milo, who smiled, showing his small teeth. He was clutching a floppy teddy bear that Umberto had gifted him on their departure. Sam had been surprised to see what had looked suspiciously like tears in the old man’s eyes as they’d left, and also a lingering glance or two at Bridie, who had looked a bit more flustered than she usually did.
As Rafaele negotiated their way out of the private airfield Sam said, ‘Your father...was not what I expected.’
Rafaele’s mouth tightened, but he said, ‘No...I was surprised at how he welcomed Milo so instantaneously.’
‘It was nice,’ Sam admitted. ‘After all, he’s his only living grandparent now. My father was only alive to see Milo as a baby, so they didn’t really connect and Milo won’t remember him. Bridie is like a granny to Milo, but it’s different when it’s blood...’
Rafaele looked at her, his face inscrutable. ‘Yes,’ he agreed. ‘It is.’
For the first time Sam didn’t feel that Rafaele was getting in a dig. He was sounding almost as if he was realising the same thing himself.
‘We should...’ Sam blushed and stopped. ‘That is, I should make sure to try and let Milo see Umberto as much as possible. Do you think he’d come to England?’
Rafaele’s mouth quirked and he slid another glance to Sam. ‘I think he could be persuaded—especially if Bridie is going to be there.’
Sam smiled, rare lightness filling her chest. ‘You noticed it too, then?’
Rafaele looked at her and grew serious. He took her hand from her lap and held it. Immediately Sam’s body reacted. She tried to pull away but he wouldn’t let her. Memories of the bondage of last night came back. Arousing her. Disturbing her.
He said something crude in Italian and had to let Sam’s hand go to navigate some hairy traffic. When it was clear again he said, ‘Sam, we need to talk...’
‘No,’ Sam said fiercely, panicked at the thought of dissecting what had happened last night. She looked back at Milo, who was still happily playing with the toy, and then back to Rafaele. ‘There’s nothing to discuss.’
‘Yes, there is, Sam,’ he asserted, ‘whether you like it or not. Tonight we’ll go out for dinner.’
‘Rafaele—’
But he cut her off with a stern look.
Sam shut her mouth and sat back, feeling mutinous. But deep down she knew Rafaele was right. They had to talk, but she would make sure that it would centre around the future and what would happen with Milo and also on the fact that she didn’t want to sleep with him again. Liar, a voice mocked her. But she quashed it. Last night had almost broken her. She’d nearly revealed just how much Rafaele made her feel. And if they slept together again...she wouldn’t be able to keep it in.
‘I’ll drop
you and Milo off at the apartment and show you around, and then I’m afraid I have to go into the office for a couple of hours.’
‘Okay,’ Sam said, too quickly, seizing on the fact that she’d have a few hours’ respite from Rafaele’s disturbing presence. Maybe then these memories would abate and give her some peace.
* * *
Rafaele’s Rome apartment was situated in a beautiful crumbling building just streets away from the famous Piazza Barberini, right in the heart of Rome’s bustling centre. A smiling housekeeper met them and conversed easily in English for Sam’s benefit. Rafaele showed Sam to her room, which was stunning, with parquet floors and delicate Rococo furnishings. There was another door which Milo was already reaching up to try and open, but the handle was too high.
He turned around, comically frustrated, and Rafaele scooped him up. ‘First you have to grow a little more, piccolino.’
Rafaele opened the door and walked through, leaving Sam to follow them. It was a room for Milo, and once again Rafaele had obviously given instructions for it to be decked out for a three-year-old. It was a kiddie’s paradise, and Milo was already jumping out of Rafaele’s arms to explore all the treasures.
Rafaele looked at Sam, as if expecting another diatribe, but she could only smile ruefully and shrug her shoulders as if to say, What can I do?
He came closer then, blocking out Milo behind him, and cupped her jaw with a hand, his thumb rubbing her lower lip, tugging at it. Instantly Sam craved his mouth there, kissing her hard, pressing his body against hers.
Heat flooded her and she had to pull away with an effort. She shook her head, warning him off.
He said silkily, ‘Tonight, Sam. We’ll talk then.’ He turned back to Milo. ‘Ciao, piccolino. I have to go to work now.’
