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‘A scooter?’ She had the same shocked look he’d seen on the plane. ‘You ride a scooter? That sounds a bit incongruous for a duke.’
‘Now, Isadora.’ He brushed a thumb across her cheekbone. ‘I hope you’re not saying I’m a snob?’ he teased as her cheeks pinkened prettily. ‘No Florentine with a brain takes a car into the city. A scooter is the only way to go.’
And, like all natives, he drove his Vespa at breakneck speed. Which meant she’d have to glue herself to him to stop from falling off.
His grin got bigger as his gaze flicked down her outfit. ‘If you’ve got some jeans, you might want to put them on. The staff will have put your suitcase in the master bedroom.’ Placing his hands on her shoulders, he directed her towards a wrought-iron staircase at the end of the terrace. ‘Take those stairs and the door’s at the end of the balcony. I’ll get the Vespa out of the garage and meet you out front.’
By the time they got back here, he’d have her naked soon enough.
Mounting the stairs to the upper balcony, Issy watched Gio stroll across the terrace, those damn denims hugging his gorgeous butt like a second skin.
She dragged her gaze away and took a moment to admire the almost as phenomenal view of Florence at dusk. In the enormous bedroom suite she slipped into jeans and a simple white wraparound blouse, and stared at the king-size mahogany bed dominating the room. The reckless thrill cascading through her body at the thought of what the nights and days ahead would hold had the hot, heavy feeling turning to aching need.
She huffed out a breath.
Okay, abstinence had never been an option. Not where Gio was concerned. He was too irresistible. And trying to distract him from the inevitable would only end up frustrating them both.
But that did not mean he got to have everything his own way. He’d railroaded her into boarding that plane, then exploited the hunger between them to get exactly what he wanted. Mindless sex with no strings attached.
Well, fine, she didn’t want any strings either. But it wasn’t as easy for her to simply dismiss their past. And she wasn’t quite as adept at separating sex from intimacy, the way he was. And the reason why was simple. She’d never had sex with a stranger before. Or not intentionally. But she could see now that was exactly what Gio was. Now.
Finding a lavish en suite bathroom, she spent a few extra minutes brushing out her hair, washing her face and reapplying her make-up. And struggling to slow the rapid ticks of her heartbeat.
She’d once believed she knew Gio and understood him. And from there it had been one short step into love.
After that first night she’d always thought the reasons why she’d been so foolish were simple. She’d been young and immature and in desperate need of male approval. She’d lost her father at an early age, and it had left an aching hole in the centre of her life that couldn’t be filled. Until Gio had appeared, a sad, surly but magnetic boy, who had seemed to need her as much as she needed him.
But now she could see there had been another, less obvious reason why she’d fallen in love with a figment of her own imagination.
Even when they were children there had been an air of mystery about Gio. He’d always been so guarded and cautious about any kind of personal information.
She had talked endlessly about her hopes and dreams, about her mum, about her schoolfriends, even about the shows she liked to watch on TV. Gio had listened to her chatter, but had said virtually nothing about his own life, his own hopes and dreams in return. She’d never even had an inkling he was interested in design. No wonder she had been so surprised about his success as an architect.
And then there had been the wall of silence surrounding the ten months of the year he spent in Rome, with his mother.
As a teenager, Issy had been totally in awe of Claudia Lorenzo—like every other girl her age. A flamboyant and stunningly beautiful bit-part actress, who had fought her way out of the Milan slums, Gio’s mother had reinvented herself as a fashion icon, gracing the pages of Vogue and Vanity Fair while on a merry-go-round of affairs and marriages with rich, powerful men. Not all that surprisingly, Issy had quizzed Gio mercilessly about ‘La Lorenzo’ in her early teens.
But Gio had always refused to talk about his mother. So Issy had eventually stopped asking, conjuring up all sorts of romantic reasons why he should keep his life in Rome a secret.
Issy squared her shoulders and ran unsteady palms down the stiff new denim of her jeans. Why not use this week to dispel that air of mystery. To finally satisfy her curiosity about Gio? She’d always wanted to know why Gio kept so many secrets and why he seemed so determined never to have a permanent relationship. Once she had her answer, his power to fascinate her, to tantalise her, would be gone for good.
Gio was unlikely to co-operate, of course—being as guarded now as he had ever been—and it would be hard not to get sidetracked while indulging in all the physical pleasures and revelling in the sights, sounds and tastes of the beautiful Tuscan capital.
But luckily for her she was a master at multi-tasking, and she never backed down from a challenge. Skills she’d perfected while running the theatre and handling everything from actors’ egos to imminent bankruptcy. Why not put those skills to good use?
So she could enjoy everything the next few days had to offer. Get over her addiction to Gio’s superstar abilities in bed. And finally get complete closure on all the mistakes of her past.
CHAPTER SIX
‘SO why are you so petrified of commitment?’
Gio choked on the expensive Chianti he’d been sipping, so surprised by Issy’s probing question he had to grab his napkin to catch the spray. He put the glass down on the restaurant’s white linen tablecloth, next to the remains of the mammoth T-bone steak they’d shared. ‘Issy, I’ve just eaten about a half pound of rare beef. What are you trying to do? Give me indigestion?’ he said, only half joking.
Where had that come from?
Everything had been going surprisingly well till now. Their sightseeing trip had been less of a chore than he’d expected. Issy had always been sexy as hell, but he’d forgotten how refreshing, funny and forthright she was too.
Perhaps because she was still a little jumpy, she’d hardly stopped talking since they’d left the villa, but rather than annoying him the mostly one-sided conversation had brought back fond memories from their childhood. For a boy who had been taught as soon as he could speak that it was better to keep his mouth shut, listening to Issy talk had made him feel blissfully normal. Having her chatter wash over him again tonight had reminded him how much he’d once enjoyed just listening to her speak.
