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‘Until now,’ he agreed slowly. ‘In fact, this is the first time I’ve been here for years.’
‘So what made you change your mind about coming?’
Alessio turned away from the hypnotic beauty of her grey eyes and walked over to the window, where the formal grounds outside the house contrasted incongruously with the wild forest beyond. But the stunning setting was lost on him—because how could you possibly appreciate beauty in such a hostile environment? He hadn’t intended to tell her anything about his family dynamic, but now he recognised he couldn’t keep her totally in the dark. She was an intelligent woman and if he wanted her cooperation, she would require some kind of explanation. Because wasn’t he buying her compliance, as well as her company?
He turned back to face her, momentarily startled by how changed she appeared in the intimate setting of the bedroom. The errant strand of hair was still dangling around her flushed cheek, and he got a sudden idea of how she might look first thing in the morning. All creamy flesh and pale blonde hair spread across the pillow. Her curvy body soft beneath the sheet. His throat tightened. How the hell was he going to resist her when she was looking at him like that?
Across the vast expanse of the room their gazes locked, her eyes growing dark, and he heard the catch of breath in her throat, as if acknowledging the sudden pulse of attraction which was throbbing through the air between them. But he shook his head, closing his mind to the automatic parting of her lips, which were making him want to kiss her, and steeling his sudden desire as best he could. There were a million reasons why having sex with Nicola Bennett was a bad idea, and having to share a bedroom was adding an unbearable layer of temptation. But it would do him good to resist her. It was something he’d never had to do before—and wasn’t he always keen to embrace the novel whenever it came his way?
‘What’s different is that it’s my mother’s milestone birthday, which means I needed to make an effort—and this is precisely why you are here, Nicola. To defuse the atmosphere. To give everyone something else to think about, other than the usual petty squabbling over their inheritance.’ He paused, a wry smile touching the edges of his lips. ‘But given my reputation as something of a commitment-phobe, you should be prepared for some fairly insolent questions about how serious our relationship is.’ He raised his eyebrows. ‘It might add a little more conviction if you could try not to recoil whenever I come near you.’
‘I’ll try.’ She huffed out a sigh. ‘But believe me, this is the last thing I wanted.’
‘Ditto,cara. I’m not exactly jumping for joy myself.’
And wasn’t that just typical of a woman? he thought. The moment he mentioned that hedidn’twant to be alone with her—she extended her bottom lip in a brief but unmistakable pout. Was she offended by his assertion that he didn’t want to be alone with her? Did shewanthim to acknowledge the desire which was simmering between them, or pretend it didn’t exist?
‘Don’t worry. Nothing’s going to happen. We can put a line of cushions down the centre of the bed as a temporary barricade,’ he suggested drily. ‘If that’ll make you feel better.’
‘The only thing which will make me feel better is when I’m on that plane going back to England.’
He could see her gritting her teeth behind her lips and he felt another flicker of disbelief. Didn’t she realise how many women would have moved heaven and earth to find themselves alone with him like this? Women who, by now, would have been showering him with hungry kisses and unzipping his fly.
‘In the interests of authenticity let’s at least try to be civil to each another, shall we?’ he snapped. ‘I’m going to take a shower.’
‘Take your time.’
‘Oh, don’t worry, I will.’
After he’d gone into the bathroom, Nicola resisted the temptation to drag her hairbrush from her handbag and hurl it at the door which he’d slammed shut behind him. But instead, she sucked in a few deep breaths, in a futile attempt to calm herself. What was thematterwith her? Was she, someone who was always so calm and collected, actually contemplatingthrowing a hairbrush? Why was she letting Alessio di Bari get underneath her skin like this?
She knew why. It was because she wanted him. The truth was that she had always wanted him and being trapped like this meant it was getting increasingly difficult to hide that fact. Over the years she had deliberately put a stopper on her feelings, not wanting messy emotions to hijack the strange double life she had forged for herself. It had never been a problem because nobody had ever captured her imagination or her emotions before. But emotion was what was rushing over her now and it was powerful and all-consuming. She could hear the sound of gushing water from the other side of the bathroom door and the thought of Alessio standing naked beneath the shower was enough to send her senses into overdrive.
She imagined his bare chest.
Bare arms.
Bare bottom.
Imagined water cascading over all that darkly golden flesh. A tug of heat clenched low in her sex and suddenly she felt so weak she was no longer certain her feet would support her. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, she untied her espadrilles and slumped back on the mattress, her heart racing. She stared up at the enormous chandelier which was dangling from the ceiling, like a cascade of diamonds suspended in mid-air.
How was she going to tolerate an entire weekend if this was what it was going to be like? Because no matter how enormous the room—and itwasenormous—there was still only one bed. How was she going to pretend she couldn’t care less about him? She wasn’tthatgood an actress. Even worse, she didn’t actually know the protocol for sharing a room with a man, because she’d never done it before. Would he laugh if he knew the truth? Of course he would. She was a modern-day freak, which was why she always kept it quiet.
Actually, I’ve reached the grand old age of twenty-five and I’m still a virgin.She imagined the coolly questioning look she would direct at him before remarking,I know. It is unusual, isn’t it?
Nicola had spent her whole life learning the kind of things which most people took for granted. She’d learnt how to read and write long after most girls her age. How to hold a knife and fork properly and iron out the harsh way of speaking which she’d picked up during her first few feral years. She had been a diligent student and largely successful in most things she had turned her hand to. She had studied on buses, on Tubes or whenever she got the chance. While her peers had been buying lipsticks and giggling about boys, she’d always had her head in a book. When she’d got the opportunity to work in the high-octane art world, she had diligently watched how other people behaved and successfully copied them. But inside she could feel like that little girl who sensed the whole world was against her.
But this was different. This wasn’t something you couldlearn. You couldn’t watch other women and mimic their actions when they were alone with a man. Because—unless they were engaged in one of thoseménage à troissituations you sometimes read about—bedroom etiquette wasn’t actually a spectator sport.
So howdidyou go about cohabiting with a man you weren’t in a relationship with? She bit her lip. She supposed she would have to get undressed in the bathroom. Would he let her go first—or should she defer to him, since he was paying her? She was definitely going to wear the baggy T-shirt she’d brought from home—not the slippery and highly revealing nightgown, which the personal shopper had insisted she purchase.
Her eyes flickered towards the heavy antique furniture and the big vases of blousy roses which were dotted everywhere, their petals spilling onto the polished wood. She was feeling uncomfortably warm, so she undid a button on her dress, but that did little to cool her heated skin. Her thoughts were spinning so fast that Nicola shut her eyes in an attempt to block out some of the visual stimuli which were playing havoc with her senses. But the perfume of the roses was powerful and the warm Umbrian air which filtered in through the open windows felt deliciously soft on her bare arms.
She could feel her eyelids growing heavy and her limbs were growing heavy, too—as if someone had coated them in liquid gold and weighted them down to the bed. Suddenly, she realised she’d hardly slept a wink in the preceding days because she’d been so worried about Stacey and Callum, and also, of course, about this trip. But now all her worries were being dominated by her body’s need for rest. They were seeping away, like raindrops on leaves, evaporating in the sunshine. For a while she drifted away on a fragrant cloud, until a sound started beckoning her reluctantly back down to earth.
It was a voice, she thought.
A gorgeous voice.
