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‘We?’ Carlo lifted an eyebrow and she nodded and handed him a box.
‘Might as well make use of your superior height. These go on the top.’
He followed her instructions, trying not to be distracted by the way her jeans hugged her rounded bottom as she leaned over to hang things on the bottom of the tree.
He’d rushed things the night before and he’d made up his mind that he was going to control himself and slow the pace as he’d promised.
He just hoped he didn’t die in the attempt.
He finished the top of the tree and then crouched down next to her to look through the rest of the decorations.
‘We need to hang these at the front because they’re so pretty.’ She handed him a box of delicate silver baubles and he took them carefully, his fingers brushing against hers, their heads close together as they inspected the decorations.
‘These are pretty.’
And so was she. Completely gorgeous. He was fascinated by those thick black lashes and the soft fullness of her mouth.
Carlo tilted his head so that their mouths were tantalisingly close and fought the urge to kiss her. He watched her lips part in anticipation and bit back a groan.
She wanted him to kiss her.
But he wasn’t going to. He wanted to make sure that she was comfortable with him before he touched her again. And in the meantime he was going to make her want him as much as he wanted her.
Deliberately cranking up the heat, he hesitated just long enough to see her breathing quicken and then dragged his attention back to the baubles.
Every nerve ending in his body was tingling with frustration and he was grateful that he was wearing tailored trousers this time. At least they were slightly more forgiving than his jeans.
‘So these go at the front?’ Trying to keep his tone casual, he straightened up, still holding the box, and started hanging the baubles on the branches.
‘Yes—just there—’ she sounded breathless and he gritted his teeth, forcing himself not to turn round.
If he turned round he was going to kiss her, and he was determined not to kiss her again yet.
She wasn’t touching him and yet every sense in his body alerted him to how close she was.
It occurred to him that he’d never been in this position before. He’d never had to hold back with a woman. But, then, the women he usually mixed with were experienced and sophisticated whereas Zan… He dragged in a breath and tried to ignore the way her subtle perfume wrapped itself around him. Zan was sweet and natural and she’d confessed that she had virtually no experience when it came to men.
The knowledge satisfied everything that was male in him. She was going to be his and there was no way he was rushing her.
‘Can you reach the plug to switch on the lights?’ Her voice was husky and feminine and he clenched his fists and decided that he’d never known temptation before he’d met Zan.
‘Sì.’ He bent down and flicked the switch.
The tree lit up, throwing sparkling silver lights across her living room.
Zan gasped and clapped her hands. ‘Oh, that’s so pretty!’ She smiled at him, her green eyes reflecting the glitter of a hundred tiny Christmas tree lights. ‘Merry Christmas, Mr Bennett.’
The stark reminder that she didn’t actually know who he was stabbed at his conscience. She trusted him and he wasn’t being honest with her.
‘It’s very pretty.’
‘Isn’t it just?’ She scrabbled in her bag and pulled out a piece of paper. ‘I’ve just remembered. Lottery numbers for tomorrow. You can help me choose.’
He stared at her. She was expecting him to choose lottery numbers? He rubbed a hand over his jaw. ‘Do you really want to do the lottery?’
In a few weeks, when all this was sorted out, he’d be able to buy her anything she wanted.
‘Of course I want to do it. The jackpot is eleven million. Eleven million. Imagine how amazing it would be to win a bit of that at Christmas.’ She grinned and sat cross-legged on the cushions which were always piled by the huge window. ‘Go on, if you had all the money in the world what would you want from me as a present? It’s got to be a car, right? You look like a man who likes fast cars.’
