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And if she really thought that she could walk away from him and forget him then her brain was soggier than she thought.
As usual he was gone when she awoke.
And it was probably just as well, Stasia reflected miserably as she pulled on a skirt and top and made her way to breakfast. Waking up next to a man that you'd begged was humiliating and undignified at the best of times. Even more so when that man didn't love you any more and probably never had.
She'd never felt less like food in her life, but reminding herself that she was still supposed to be playing a part for the benefit of Chiara, she forced herself to join them at the breakfast table.
As soon as she walked on to the terrace Rico stood and walked to meet her, dropping a gentle kiss on her forehead.
It would have been the perfect way to start a beautiful day if it hadn't been for the fact that Chiara was watching and Stasia knew that she was the reason for the unexpected display of affection.
'Good morning—' His tone was husky and sexy and she felt her stomach turn over.
Oh, not again—get a grip!
He'd made love to her for most of the night. Surely there couldn't be any more sexual energy left inside her? She stared at him helplessly, acknowledging the fact that he only had to walk into a room for her to reach meltdown.
He didn't even have to touch her.
Thoroughly depressed by the realization that she had absolutely no defences against this man. she sat down at the table and then her heart stumbled. In front of her place was a bowl of oranges, still with the leaves attached.
She looked at him and he gave a half smile that made her tummy leap in response.
'I thought I would save you a trip to the orchard this morning.' His smile grew wicked. 'I thought you might be tired.'
She blushed and reached for an orange, unbelievably touched by the gesture and wondering what it meant. 'Thank you.'
They ate breakfast and talked about nothing and Stasia managed two cups of coffee.
Rico was affectionate and attentive, passing her food and making sure that she was in the shade.
His gentleness towards her was all the more poignant because she knew it wasn't real. This was how she'd always wanted their relationship to be. How it had been for those few blissful weeks after they'd first met. She had to remind herself that this display of affection was all for the benefit of Chiara. That none of this was real.
But she wanted it to be real.
She wanted it to be real so badly that it was almost a physical pain.
'Talking of the shade. I'm avoiding the beach today,' Chiara said ruefully, lifting a hand to her head. 'I'm going to have a day indoors.'
'Then perhaps I can suggest something in the way of occupation,' Rico said smoothly, rising to his feet and indicating that they should follow him back into the villa.
Mystified, Stasia glanced towards Chiara but the other girl just gave a baffled shrug.
Rico opened the door to a room that Stasia had never been into before and she gave a gasp of amazement and delight as she glanced around her.
The room looked like an artist's shop. A wide range of different items were piled up on tables, still in the packaging with prices attached.
'Oh, Rico—'
'You say I don't think about you, cara mia’ His voice was rough and for possibly the first time in his life he looked uncertain, as if he were struggling to predict her reaction. 'Well, now I'm thinking about you. You wanted to be able to work. Now you can work. And you can teach Chiara to paint.'
Stasia glanced around her, unable to speak.
'I didn't unpack it,' Rico said stiffly, his gaze slightly wary as he glanced at her, trying to gauge her reaction. ‘I thought you'd rather do it yourself.'
Stasia stepped forward and picked up a tube of paint. It was the first time he'd ever made concessions towards her painting. 'Where did you get all this? How?'
'I rang your mother,' Rico confessed, 'and then had it flown in. Are you pleased? This room has north light. I remember you saying that it would have made a perfect studio.'
