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‘Are you asking me to stay the night in the cottage?’ he questioned. Even in the strange white glow she could see the gleam in his eye. ‘With you.’
‘No,’ she said. ‘I said you can’t drive. But there’s nothing to stop you sleeping in your car.’
She turned and walked back inside, but she didn’t pull the door shut behind her. A moment later she heard Marco follow her in.
The clunk as he closed the door reverberated through her like an omen. Fogbound in the tiny cottage with Marco, she knew she was in for a long night.
CHAPTER FOUR
CLAUDIA took a deep breath and walked purposefully through to the bathroom. She didn’t want to talk to Marco. Maybe, if she looked busy, he’d leave her alone.
She picked up the digital camera, which was lying on the floor near the door, gathered her wet clothes together and carried them through to the washing machine in the kitchen. Then she collected her laptop computer case from the bedroom and sat down at the kitchen table, looking at the camera.
Despite the battering it had taken at the beach, it didn’t look to be in too bad shape. At the very least, she hoped the memory card would have survived—then she could transfer her photos on to the laptop and get on with writing her review.
At that moment it seemed much easier to focus on her job than to think about the night ahead.
‘I need a drink.’ Marco’s voice right behind her made her jump. She wished he’d stop doing his cat impersonation, stalking silently round the cottage. ‘And something to eat—I suddenly feel ravenous.’
The word ravenous, spoken in his sexy Italian accent, rumbled down her spine like thunder. She tried to suppress a shiver and spoke without looking up.
‘I haven’t got much food—I didn’t plan on entertaining.’
‘I’m not asking you to cook for me,’ he replied, unaffected by her sharp tone. ‘I knew I’d be staying the night, so I brought a few supplies myself. You can share them, if you’d like.’
‘No, thank you,’ she said crisply, irritated by his confident assumption that he would end up staying. If it wasn’t for the fog, he would already be on his way. ‘I’ve got work to do. Actually, if you’re going to be cooking, I think I’ll take myself into the other room.’
Still without looking at him, she picked up her stuff and headed through to the living room. The coffee table would be just as easy to work on, and at least Marco would be out of the way for a while. S
he knew it wouldn’t take him all evening to cook and eat his supper. But she didn’t let herself think about the long hours that stretched out before her.
She was surprised to notice a fire burning merrily in the hearth. She frowned, wondering when Marco had found the time to light it. It was burning so well that it must have been lit for a while. She hadn’t noticed it when she came downstairs, but then she’d been concentrating hard on making Marco leave the cottage.
She sat down on the sofa, disconcerted to find that being around Marco still had the power to make her oblivious to her surroundings. When he looked at her, locking his rich espresso eyes with hers, it was as if the rest of the world ceased to exist.
It had always been like that. But, four years ago, Marco had exuded an all-encompassing charm that had wrapped around her like a gossamer blanket, shutting out all of her worries and melting her heart. She closed her eyes and pictured his face as it was then, back when they were lovers—the crinkles around his eyes as he laughed and his wide generous smile.
Now, when he looked at her, she was no longer transported away from her concerns. Instead, she felt a wave of anxiety rising within her. He had treated her so badly that she knew she could never let herself trust him again. But he still had the power to make her yearn to be with him.
She shook her head, trying to clear her troubling thoughts, and busied herself with her camera. She was pleased to discover the memory card was all right and loaded the photos on to the computer. She began to scroll through them, feeling increasingly hungry as the delicious smell of cooking drifted in from the kitchen.
‘I thought you might change your mind,’ Marco said, placing a glass of mulled wine and a plate of grilled cheese and tomato on toast on the coffee table beside her.
Right on cue, her stomach growled, making it impossible for her to refuse the food without looking churlish.
‘Thank you,’ she said briefly. She pulled the plate towards her, wondering if Marco had remembered that grilled cheese and tomato was one of her favourite light meals. It seemed a coincidence, but cheese and bread were easy foods to transport.
She picked up her glass and took a sip of aromatic mulled wine. The spicy liquid slipped down her throat easily, creating a delicious glow inside her.
They started to eat in silence, and Claudia found herself watching the orange flames flickering in the hearth as a way to avoid thinking about conversation. But as the minutes went by, she found herself becoming more relaxed in Marco’s company. She didn’t know if it was the warm mulled wine or the good food that helped to ease the tension, but by the time she finished the meal she felt a lot better.
‘That was delicious—much tastier than the sandwich I was planning,’ Claudia said, breaking the silence. ‘You made it seem so easy, and you got the fire started too.’
‘It wasn’t hard,’ Marco replied. He slipped off the sofa for a moment to prod the fire with the poker, making a shower of glowing sparks fly upwards. Then, once he’d arranged the burning logs to his liking, he sat down again and turned to look at her, his dark eyes glinting in the firelight. ‘It wasn’t exactly a three course meal.’
‘All the same, I probably would have burnt it.’ Claudia smiled, feeling slightly surprised that they seemed to be having a normal conversation.
‘I take it you still don’t cook much,’ Marco said. ‘Don’t you ever get tired of plain sandwiches and fruit?’
