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I stood, still shaking with pain and effort. My gaze tracked to the horizon, through the open terrazzo doors. The pure blue water of the Mediterranean darkened as the sun dipped, casting an eerie light over the estate I had once been so proud of.
And for the first time since I had locked myself in my suite, I noticed the overgrown flower beds which I had refused to allow anyone to tend, the pool below my bedroom, which I had demanded be emptied, and was now strewn with leaves.
And then I saw her. The woman who had brought up my meal. The girl I had mistaken forher.
She was walking towards the housekeeper’s cottage, which sat below the pool terrace.
I scowled, the throbbing pain in my thigh, the cramping indigestion in my stomach replaced by the swift shock ofsomethingagain as I watched her lithe, economical movements.
I staggered to the bed, and crashed back onto it, as angry now as I had ever been, not just with my injury, my weak and useless body, but also with her.
Whoever the hell she was, and however good a chef she was, I did not want her here—making me even more aware of everything I had lost.
And as soon as she returned to pick up the tray tomorrow, I would tell her so.
At least, that was what I had intended, until my stomach relaxed, and the unfamiliar feeling of fullness softened the soreness in my limbs, and dragged me down into the deep well of sleep.
Jessie
I woke early after a fitful night, disturbed by so many dreams, in which the past and the present had merged and Renzo’s gaunt form still possessed the commanding presence of the man I remembered.
Even as I stared at the overgrown grounds from the safety of the housekeeper’s cottage, the strange sensations found in dreams continued to streak through my body...sensations which had been dormant for years, but still had the power to scare me.
How could Renzo Camaro as he was now—broken and weak in both body and soul—still be able to reawaken the passion I had found in his arms?
I didn’t want to be that girl again. I didn’t want those sexual urges, that reckless desire, because it would give him the power to destroy me again. What if helping him to get stronger, turned him back into that man?
I huffed. And forced myself out of bed. As I showered, I gave myself a good talking to.
Stop overdramatising, Jess. Renzo Camaro is a broken man. He can’t hurt you now. All he can do is hurt himself.
As I headed past the pool terrace to the chateau’s kitchens to prepare Renzo’s breakfast, I noticed the empty pool. The sun was hot this morning and I imagined how nice it would be if I could take a morning swim before work.
The new grounds crew Henri had hired in a last-ditch attempt to make Renzo see reason was due to arrive in an hour.
Henri had given me a list of things he hoped I could get Renzo to agree to, once I’d fed him properly. I checked through the list as I made up a batter for American waffles—another of Renzo’s former favourite meals, incongruously—and sliced some fresh fruit to increase his vitamin intake.
I decided to concentrate on the first two items on Henri’s list.
Try to stop him scaring off the new grounds crew.
If you can get him to agree to see the physiotherapist, I will give you a five-thousand-euro bonus on the spot!
Having a focus should stop me fixating on the pointless memories when I saw my new boss again.
Even so, my palms were sweating—and those wayward sensations from my dreams skittered over my skin—as I carried the breakfast tray up the stairs twenty minutes later.
I forced myself to focus on my mission—stop him being a bastard to me and his other employees, and get some much-needed physio—as I gave his door a brisk knock, then walked into the room.
To my surprise, the curtains and doors I had opened the night before were still spread wide, and sunlight streamed into the room. Even more surprising, I noticed the room smelled less fetid, a balmy sea breeze scenting the air.
‘Good morning, Mr Camaro,’ I announced as I placed the breakfast tray onto the dresser.
Last night’s offering was still there. My heart clutched when I saw that most of the food had been left congealing on the plate, but at least a few mouthfuls had been eaten.
Success, of a sort.
‘Henri wanted me to let you know the new grounds crew arrive today,’ I said as I picked up last night’s tray. ‘I thought I’d ask them to refill the pool, so I can take a dip in the mornings before I start work,’ I added provocatively, when I got no reply.
