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‘Long before I met you. I wanted a home base in Italy, and I assumed I would use it for holidays but, to be frank, I’ve hardly been here since the renovation project was completed.’
Brooke gave his shoulder a playful mock punch. ‘Because you work too hard,’ she pointed out, gazing around the rustic hallway and caressing the smooth bannister of the old wooden staircase that led up to the next floor.
‘You used a designer, didn’t you?’ she guessed, moving from doorway to doorway to study the pale drapes and the subtle palate of colours employed to provide a charming and tranquil backdrop to antique rustic furniture and comfortable contemporary sofas.
Lorenzo laughed, his lean dark features extraordinarily handsome in that moment as he stood in the sunshine flooding through the open front door. ‘How did you guess?’ he mocked.
‘Whoever you used was really good,’ Brooke was saying appreciatively when a sparely built older man appeared in the hallway and greeted them in a flood of Italian.
‘This is Jacopo. He and his wife, Sofia, look after us here,’ Lorenzo informed her, closing a hand round hers to urge her towards the stairs. ‘When would you like lunch?’
‘Midday? After our early start, I’m quite hungry.’ She shot an uncertain glance up at his lean dark face, ensnared by vibrant and lustrous black-lashed golden eyes that left her breathless.
Lorenzo informed Jacopo and led her upstairs. ‘Sofia likes a schedule to work to. She’s a great cook.’
‘Did I ever cook for you?’ Brooke enquired.
‘Never.’
Her brows lifted in surprise. ‘I wonder why not. I like reading recipes, which makes me think that I must’ve enjoyed cooking at some stage of my life,’ she told him, walking into a breathtaking bedroom as complete in charm and appeal as the ground-floor reception areas. Turning round, her head tilted back to appreciate the vaulted ceiling above, she sped through the door into the corner turret room to laugh in delight when her suspicions proved correct and she discovered a deftly arranged circular bathroom. ‘It’s a wonderful house, Lorenzo. Was it a wreck when you found it?’
‘A complete ruin,’ he confirmed. ‘I loved the views and the old courtyard out the back, which was completely overgrown. I didn’t really appreciate how much potential the house itself had or, indeed, how large it was. We certainly don’t require the half-dozen bedrooms we have here.’
The doors had been secured back on a balcony on the opposite wall and she strolled out, relieved the ironwork was thick enough to prevent a nosy little dog from sliding between bars and falling, because there was no use pretending, she thought fondly, Topsy wasn’t the brightest or most cautious spark on the planet. Seconds later she was so enthralled by the view of the Tuscan landscape, she simply stared.
A hint of early morning mist still hung over the picturesque walled stone village on a nearby hilltop and somehow it almost magically enhanced the lush green of the vines and fruit orchards in the valley below. Ancient spreading chestnut trees marked the boundary of the garden, the turning colour of their leaves hinting that autumn was on its way. ‘It’s really beautiful,’ she sighed.
The only outstandingly beautiful object in his vision at that moment, Lorenzo acknowledged abstractedly, was her, a foam of curls falling naturally across her bare shoulders in a white-blonde mass, the pretty, surprisingly simple blue dress only adding to the fragile femininity that she exuded and the slender, shapely legs on view. Hunger stabbed through him as sharp and immediate in its penetration as a knife and he strode forward.
Brooke relaxed back into the warmth of his lean powerful frame as his hand came down on her shoulder, a roaring readiness within her taut body to do whatever it took to ensure that their relationship had a fighting chance of survival. His sensual mouth dropped a kiss down on her other shoulder and she trembled, her body coming alive as though he had pressed a magic switch, and by the time he shifted his lips to the considerably more sensitive flesh of the slope leading up to her neck, her hips were pushing back against his in helpless response.
The zip of her dress eased slowly down and he spread the parted edges to run his mouth down over her slender back and she wriggled and jerked, learning that she had tender spots she had not known she possessed. The snap of her bra being released unnerved her when she was standing out in the fresh air,in public, as she saw it, even though it was a very rural area. She spun in his arms.
‘I don’t want anyone to see me,’ she mumbled nervously, suddenly wondering if that reaction was a passion killer as he looked down at her in seeming surprise at her inhibitions. ‘I mean, there might be...er...workers in the vines or something.’
Lorenzo laughed soft and low and swept her up into his arms as if she were a lightweight, when she knew she was not, and carried her over to the bed. He skimmed off her bra with almost daunting expertise. Her violet eyes shot up to lock to his lean bronzed face. ‘You must’ve been with an awful lot of women,’ she heard herself say, and five seconds later cringed at that revealing observation, her face burning as hot as hellfire.
Taken aback, Lorenzo looked down at her in surprise. ‘The usual number before we married,’ he conceded.
‘And not...er...since?’ Brooke prompted, unable to stifle that question. ‘I mean...we were separated...and then I was in a coma for well over a year...’
‘I haven’t been with anyone else since the day I married you,’ Lorenzo spelt out with a level of precision that disconcerted her even more. ‘I don’t break my promises.’
A controversial topic, she recognised uneasily, but she was impressed nonetheless by that steadfast fidelity that many men would surely have forsaken during a legal separation. It was one more gift to appreciate, wasn’t it? In one statement he had both surprised and delighted her, affirming her conviction that they might still have a marriage worth saving. He had not turned to another woman for either sex or consolation and that said so much about the sort of guy he was. She wanted to tell him that she loved him again, but she swallowed the words, which would strike him as empty when she didn’t have the luxury of even recalling their past relationship.
‘We’re getting too serious,’ Lorenzo told her with a sudden flashing smile that didn’t quite reach his gorgeous eyes.
‘Blame me,’ she muttered ruefully. ‘I was the one asking awkward questions.’
‘You should feel free to say whatever you like to me,’ Lorenzo told her, backing away from the bed to slam the door shut and shed his jacket, his tie and his shoes in rapid succession.
Brooke swallowed hard, wondering why she always felt so shy with him, wondering why she wanted to cover her bared breasts from view. Shehadto be accustomed to such intimacy. That she could be innately shy in the bedroom, after all, went against everything she had so far learned about herself. Women who were shy or modest about showing their bodies didn’t wear teeny-tiny shorts and incredibly short skirts, she reminded herself impatiently.
There was nothing shy about Lorenzo either, she acknowledged as he strolled, buck naked, back to the bed like a very,verysexy bronzed predator, all lean, rippling muscle and hair-roughened thighs. Just looking at Lorenzo almost overwhelmed her because she still experienced a deep, abiding sense of wonder that such a rich, powerful and important man had married her. Yet where did that low self-esteem come from? She was supposed to be so confident, a woman in possession of a trust fund, both prosperous and successful in her own right. Had she always been scared on the inside and confident on the outside?
‘Dio...I can’t wait to get inside you,’ Lorenzo growled.
That graphic assurance sent a flush running right up over her breasts into her face and that out-of-her-depth sensation that had grabbed her on the only night she had so far spent with him returned.
