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Kate could vividly imagine Lizzie raising her eyes to heaven as she spoke.
You‘ve been bringing his son up single-handed for the last three years, and you didn‘t exactly have a lot of choice about it.‘
I know.‘ Kate sighed. Lizzie was on her side, she knew that, but she also knew that she would never understand. Strong, forthright Lizzie would never recognise the feeling Kate had now—as if she was cradling a butterfly between her hands, afraid of holding it so tightly she crushed it, afraid of letting it go and watching it fly away. It‘s just I‘m scared—‘
Now, look—don‘t do your usual trick of jumping straight into the worst-case scenario.‘ Lizzie cut her off, sounding suddenly distracted and impatient. In the background Kate could hear a child crying. A frisson of alarm ran through her.
Is that Alexander? Is everything all right?‘
The line crackled and her own voice echoed back in her ear, sharp with anxiety.
Everything‘s fine.‘ Was it the slight delay on the line, or did Lizzie hesitate before answering? Now, go and get straight back into bed with your man, and stop worrying about everything. Have a fabulous time, and we‘ll speak later, honey—OK?‘
OK. Thanks, Lizzie. Give Alexander a big kiss from me, won‘t you? And tell him…‘
She trailed off, picturing Alexander‘s sweet face as emotion swelled inside her.
Sorry, what was that?‘
Just that I love him. And I‘ll be home soon.‘
But as she cut the call she found she didn‘t want to think about that.
Ten minutes later, very carefully balancing a tray laden with fresh coffee, warm brioche, yellow Normandy butter from the fridge and a jar of honey that had been left on the worktop, Kate gently pushed open the bedroom door.
The sun spilled into the room, warming the bare-boarded floor and turning the tangle of crisp white linen on the bed into a mini-replica of the snowy landscape outside. Cristiano was lying on his front, one bronzed, muscular arm thrown out across the pillows. The duvet lay loosely over his hips, exposing his bare back.
Glancing at him, Kate instantly felt her throat dry, and the china on the tray rattled as a tremor of pure lust went through her. He was a study in masculine perfection—a Leonardo sketch brought to warm, satin-skinned life. The muscles of his massive shoulders were clearly defined, the ridges of his ribs visible beneath the butterscotch-coloured flesh where his body tapered down to his narrow hips.
Buongiorno.‘
She jumped, placing the objects on the tray in further jeopardy and letting out a little gasp of shock. She‘d been so busy gazing at his delicious body that she hadn‘t noticed that his dark, hooded eyes were half open and he was watching her.
Oh…S-sorry,‘ she stammered as the colour flooded into her cheeks. I‘m just…I mean, I was trying not to…wake you.‘
He sat up in one lithe, rippling movement, like a panther uncurling itself, and pushed his tousled hair back from his forehead.
I was awake already.‘ His voice was deep and husky with sleep.
Setting the tray down on the edge of the bed, Kate busied herself moving things around on it to stop herself from staring at him with her mouth open.
I heard you talking downstairs.‘
I was on the phone.‘ Oh, God, she hoped he hadn‘t heard what she was saying. She could feel her blush intensify as she looked up at him through her hair and smiled shyly. I was calling a cab, actually. Last night didn‘t quite live up to my expectations, so I thought there was no point in sticking around.‘
His lips quirked into a sardonic half-smile. Not as good as last time? I must have lost my touch.‘
Pouring coffee and handing it to him, Kate kept her face completely straight.
Probably you just need a bit more practice. It‘s all about training and focus, you see…‘
Joking about it was the only way she could think of handling this. She had to keep it light. Casual.
You sound like Silvio.‘ He put the cup down and caught hold of her hand, pulling her down against his chest. And you seem to know quite a lot about it.‘
The musky, masculine scent of his skin made her feel lightheaded with longing. Only what you told me last time when I interviewed you.‘
He raised an eyebrow. I told you about sex?‘ With one hand he lazily started to unbutton the white shirt. In an instant Kate was drenched with want.
No,‘ she gasped. About racing. The sex part was more of a…practical demonstration.‘ His fingers moved downwards, skimming her quivering skin as he slowly undid each button. She gave a breathless laugh. It was my first time.‘
His hand stilled. Kate felt a tiny prickle of alarm and looked up into his face.
His eyes were impossibly dark and utterly unreadable, and although she was still lying in his arms there was something about him that had quite suddenly withdrawn from her.
In that case I probably owe you an apology.‘
Why?‘
He detached himself from her, leaning over and picking up the mug of coffee he‘d put on the bedside table a few minutes ago. Because I‘m quite sure as first times went it left a lot to be desired—emotionally, if not technically,‘ he drawled.
The sun streaming through the huge window turned his skin to gold and made him seem more beautiful and unreachable than ever. Kate‘s heart constricted.
Sitting up, reaching for her own coffee, she breathed in the fragrant steam for a second and shook her head.
No. No, it was…‘ She paused, taking a mouthful of coffee and hoping it would dislodge the hard lump of emotion in her throat.
This was her chance to try to bring alive some of the magic of that long, deep, breathless night.
But how?
Well?‘
His heavy-lidded eyes were mocking, but she found the laughter that had been bubbling up inside her had vanished and she couldn‘t joke about it any more.
It was…special.‘ She stared down into her mug. Her voice sounded husky with the emotions she was trying to hold back. It was good. Not just the s-sex bit, but all of it.‘ She looked up at him, trying to keep the pleading note from her voice.
Didn‘t last night make any of it come back?‘
No.‘
Aware of the ice in his tone, Cristiano leaned forward with deceptive nonchalance, reaching for a brioche and tearing into it with quiet savagery. He had woken up feeling more at peace than he could remember at any time since the accident, and had lain for a while in the warm, sun-filled room, looking at the majesty of the mountains, his mind going slowly over what had happened.
But it was the moonlight on the snow, the rustle of satin, the taste of salt tears on her skin as he‘d kissed her that filled his head. Not the faintest echo of a hot night in Monaco four years ago. No miraculous revelation. No sudden blinding epiphany. Just the same black hole—only now it seemed even darker and more fathomless than ever.
Making a huge effort to keep his voice neutral, he said, You‘ll just have to tell me about it instead.‘
I don‘t know where to start.‘
She sucked a drizzle of honey off the side of her hand. Sitting cross-legged on the bed, wearing his shirt, with last night‘s make-up smudged beneath eyes that were the same blue as the sky above the mountains, she looked absurdly young and heart-wrenchingly pretty. So much for being plain and boring, Cristiano thought acidly as desire uncoiled inside him again. It would be a lot more convenient if she was.
How about at the beginning?‘
Well,‘ she began hesitantly, it was a really hot day…‘
He needed to know this. It was why he had brought her here, after all, but right at that moment talking or listening were the last things he felt like doing. He shifted onto his side, propping himself up on one elbow and trying to focus on what she was saying instead of on the hardening of his body, the strength of his sudden longing to pull her into his arms again and cover her mouth with his.
…I‘d only found out an hour before I had to leave for the airport that I was coming,‘ she was saying, in her soft, slightly self-deprecating way, squashing brioche crumbs beneath her thumb as she spoke. My boss was supposed to be doing the interview, but his wife had suddenly gone into labour so he had to send me instead. I was terrified.‘
Of what?‘
Of the whole thing—getting on a plane, watching the race, meeting you.
Luckily there wasn‘t too much time to get into a state about it, but there wasn‘t any time to think about what to wear either. It was raining in Yorkshire, and I thought I ought to look smart and professional, but of course I‘d never been to a Grand Prix before.‘ She glanced up at him with a rueful smile that brought dimples out in her cheeks. I put on the tailored grey suit I usually wear to meet new clients. All the other girls were wearing—‘
Hardly anything at all,‘ Cristiano said acidly.
