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She thought about his girlfriend, Stacey, and the helpless little infant who would soon depend on her.
On all of them.
Soon she was going to have to help Stacey learn how to be a mother—and how could she possibly do that if she was working nights at the Masquerade club, with the inevitable lack of sleep which came with the job? The rocky road ahead was fraught with enough potholes already, but surely Alessio’s offer was giving her the opportunity to smooth it out.
The waiter had reappeared and was looking questioningly at the untouched bowls of pasta in front of them, which smelt absolutely wonderful, though Nicola didn’t recognise the dish.
‘Cacio e pepe—pasta with cheese and pepper,’ Alessio informed her, his blue eyes shadowed by the shuttering of his dark lashes. ‘And I’d like your answer before we eat. Unfinished business spoils the meal, I always find.’
The delicious aroma wafted towards her, adding to the general overloading of her senses, and it took a serious effort for Nicola to get her head around this opportunity, which was hers for the taking. Alessio was prepared to give her double what she needed and all she had to do was spend a few days in Italy with him and his family.
Double.
How hard could it be?
But nothing was ever straightforward. If something sounded too good to be true, it was usually because it was. And still she wasn’t confronting the most complicating factor of all. Her feelings for Signor di Bari. Or rather, hersexualfeelings, which, no matter how much she wanted to, she couldn’t deny.
She had spent her whole life terrified of intimacy because she had seen what the fallout could be—and her determination not to make the mistakes of her feckless mother had led to her keeping herself to herself. It was a habit so deeply engrained that she didn’t even have to think about it. Her lack of engagement with the opposite sex came as easily as breathing—though up until now it had never been tested. And then along had come Alessio di Bari and blown all her preconceived ideas out of the water. He had set her blood on fire right from the get-go. Didn’t that add an extra layer of danger to his proposal? Wouldn’t increased proximity to his particular brand of arrogant charm only make her more susceptible to him?
Nicola’s fingers tightened around her napkin. If it was just her, she would refuse—but it wasn’t just her, was it? Could she honestly turn him down?
‘Very well. I’ll do it,’ she said at last.
‘Madonna mia...I don’t think I’ve ever had to wait so long for an answer.’
She frowned. ‘And we’ll definitely be getting separate rooms?’
‘Count on it,cara. Believe me, the thought of waking up to your disapproving expression doesn’t fill me with any joy.’ He picked up his fork. ‘You need to be ready to leave on Friday.’
‘And presumably you don’t want me to mention anything about this to Sergio?’
‘Probably better not to.’ He glittered her a complicit smile. ‘It might complicate matters if he knew we were spending the weekend together.’
‘We’re not spending the weekendtogether,’ she corrected repressively. ‘It’s just a couple of days we need to get through as best we can.’
She saw him bite back a smile and wished he hadn’t, because it made his features relax and she wondered if he was aware just how blindingly beautiful he looked in that moment.
‘How severely you dent my ego, Nicola,’ he murmured.
‘If anyone’s ego can take a little denting, it has to be yours.’ Dragging her gaze away from him, she focussed instead on her plate of pasta. After sealing such an uneasy deal, some women might have been keen to get away, or have lost their appetite, but not Nicola. When you’d known real hunger, it always seemed like a sin to turn down a good meal.
Bending her head, she began to eat.
CHAPTER FOUR
ASTHEHOUSEcame into view Alessio slowed the car, feeling an inevitable tension begin to creep into his body. His reaction to these surroundings was predictable despite his having stayed away for years, yet nobody could deny the beauty of the place. He gave a bitter smile. Least of all him.
With Nicola beside him, he had driven past tiny terracotta-roofed houses, clinging to the edges of dark green hills. His powerful car had passed through sleepy village squares, where locals drank tiny cups of coffee and exquisite churches rang out the Angelus. There were fields of cows the colour of caramel, and other fields splashed yellow by sunflowers or bright, scarlet poppies. Up here in the hills, it was more remote. His stepfather’s estate was surrounded by forests in which wild boar roamed free and the sunsets over the distant lake were among the most beautiful he had ever seen. Yet Alessio wished he were anywhere else in the world than here.
But wishes rarely came true—that had been a lesson he’d learnt early on. In approximately fifteen minutes’ time he would be driving through the electronic gates of his stepfather’s enormous mansion, ready to face the inevitable family disharmony. He wondered why the hell he hadn’t just bought his mother an extravagant present and taken her out to lunch next time he was in London, or in Paris.
Because she would never have forgiven you.
Because, despite her many flaws, she’s still your mother.
And didn’t he sometimes despise that biological connection which could draw you back to the bitterness of the past?
‘Okay. So what do I need to know before we get there?’ asked Nicola, her crisp words breaking into his uncomfortable reverie. ‘You haven’t really said.’
