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She parked outside his house, and he ushered her inside, picking up both boxes at once and walking upstairs. ‘You can work in my study.’
Following him up the stairs in the semi-darkness, it was difficult to ignore the sudden rawness of his movements. Matteo, the man with the delicate touch, the laid-back attitude to life, who had more passion in him than anyone she’d ever met.
He led the way to the end of the hallway and up another narrower flight of stairs. At the top, he stopped outside a closed door, and Rose slid around him to open it. Even that was one movement too close, making her want just one more touch. The brush of his arm against hers maybe or the touch of his shoulder as he bent to put the boxes down.
She flipped on the light, looking around. This was the roof extension that she’d seen, two long rooms arranged along the front and side of the house in an L-shape. The rest of the roof space was taken up by a paved garden, overlooking the sea. The other room was in darkness still, but this one was a marked contrast to the cool sophistication of the rest of the house.
‘This is your playroom?’ She smiled up at Matteo and he chuckled.
‘Actually, I call it my study, but playroom’s probably a more accurate description.’
It was an adult version of William’s playroom in London. Instead of picture books, there were shelves of books that ran along the whole of one side of the room. A large sofa was at the far end, with a flat-screen TV fixed to the wall and a satellite dish outside. At this end, a computer stood on a desk, surrounded by books and papers, and in the corner a telescope on a tripod pointed up towards the stars.
This was where the disparate sides of Matteo’s life seemed to come together. Outsi
de there was a large concrete tub containing a bush vine, trained against the wall, and chairs to sit on in the sun. Inside was all that he could possibly need to feed his restless intelligence.
‘The house had been empty for a long time when I bought it and it was in a pretty bad state. But before then, the last owner was an artist and he had his studio up here.’ He pointed towards the other long room, stretching out at a right angle to the one they stood in. ‘That was his wife’s studio. She was a potter. They used to work up here and meet outside when they wanted to take a break.’
The one thing that was missing from Matteo’s life. Someone to use that second rooftop room. Rose tried not to think about that, in case she became tempted to apply for the position. She didn’t have the qualifications and, anyway, Matteo seemed as dedicatedly single as she was.
He walked over to the sliding doors that led onto the rooftop garden and opened them, the sound of the sea suddenly bursting into the room. Rose stepped outside, feeling the cool breeze touch her cheek.
‘This is lovely. No barriers between your work and the things you enjoy.’
‘Should there be?’ He shrugged. ‘I’m lucky, because I love my work. I might draw a distinction between the stress of being at work and my personal life, but the work itself... Medicine has always fascinated me, and I hope it always does.’
He followed her over to the balustrade, looking across the darkened beach and way out to sea. ‘Isn’t that the way it should be?’
Rose loved her work too, and the thought that it was possible for it to spill over into her life seemed like a new and exciting opportunity. ‘I’d like to try that. If you don’t mind, that is.’
He answered with a smile. Matteo clearly didn’t mind one bit. ‘I’ll clear my desk for you, and you can unpack your things while I get coffee. You want coffee?’
He wanted to try it now. That was no surprise. Matteo always seemed to feel that now was a good time. ‘So we’re looking at a late night?’
‘Not necessarily. Whatever we feel like.’
‘Better make the coffee strong, then.’
The hours slipped by, measured only by the moon rising in the dark sky and the sound of the sea. They sat together at his desk, cutting and placing the modelling clay that represented the different muscle groups of the face and neck.
Finally, Rose leaned back in her seat, stifling a yawn. They’d done much more together than she’d anticipated, Matteo’s knowledge of physiology allowing him to add something to the process. The model still looked like a slightly scary prop for a horror film, but the next layer of clay would bring Aemilia to life.
‘Shall I take you home now?’
‘I can drive myself. Unless, of course, you’re going with the fantasy that I might not come back tomorrow.’
Matteo grinned. ‘Yeah, I think I am. Work with me on that one, eh?’
‘What time do you want to pick me up in the morning, then?’
‘Any time after seven?’ He looked at his watch. ‘You might want a bit of a lie-in, though.’
Forget sleeping in. Rose wasn’t sure that she could sleep at all, she was so fired up to do more on the model now. She stood up, stretching her cramped limbs. ‘Seven’s fine.’
CHAPTER TWELVE
HE ARRIVED AT seven on the dot, and William was already waiting behind the door for him, his bathing trunks and football shirt packed along with the towels and sunscreen in Rose’s beach bag. They stopped off to buy breakfast pastries on the way, and when he’d made the coffee to go with them, he pointed Rose straight upstairs, with a sotto voce aside to William that as soon as his mother was out of the way, they’d be free to play football.
