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I would be Renzo Camaro’s lover for three whole weeks. I could get to know him better, and get the opportunity to ask all those nagging questions about him which I’d had not just over the last five weeks, but also over the years since we had spent that one incredible night together. I could finally get answers for all the things that young woman had wanted to know when she had woken up in his luxury bedroom and found him gone.
I had been through so much after that one night—as a result of the pregnancy and the miscarriage—which had made our night together much more significant than it should have been. But I could see now, I’d been holding all those questions inside me ever since. Perhaps I deserved to have them answered now? Once and for all?
That said, the thought of being Renzo’s lover for real was as terrifying as it was exhilarating.
I didn’t want to get hung up on him or risk opening up old wounds.
But had those old wounds ever really been about Renzo? I wondered. And if our liaison had a definite end date, three weeks from now, surely I wouldn’t have time to gettooinvested in this relationship?
Like every one of Renzo’s other relationships, what he was offering me wasn’t going to be permanent. That was not what he wanted, and it was not what I needed either.
So why couldn’t I do this? If I already knew the risks? And was prepared for them? Why shouldn’t I take this chance? To finally get the closure I’d been looking for all along?
He cradled my cheek, stroked the skin, sending sensation shimmering and shivering through my body.
‘Will you stay,Principessa? With me? For three weeks? And then we will part after the ball?Per favore,’ he added, his tone raw.
Per favore. Please. The few words in Italian I could translate.
I felt a strange sense of release, as a smile tugged at my lips and seeped into my heart.
Why had I never seen it before? We really were equals now, more than we had ever been before. Because the truth was, we both needed closure from that night. He had suffered a great deal in the years since that night too, just as I had. We were both broken in our own way. What harm could it do, to try and fix ourselves together? Before we parted? To indulge the chemistry we shared? So I could finally move on, for real, and start to contemplate dating another man, a man who would be able to cherish me the way Renzo could not? If I could do that, maybe I could even have the family I had always yearned for too, children, a life partner like Alexi was to Belle... My life had been stalled since that night, because I had developed a strange obsession with Renzo as a result of an accidental pregnancy that hadn’t even lasted. Surely I had to take this chance to finally move on with my life, for good.
I nodded.
‘Si?’He grinned.
‘Yes, okay, I’ll stay. For three weeks. And be your date for the ball.’
‘Bene,’he murmured, his eyes sparkling with a delight that made the boulder expand in my throat. I blinked furiously. And ignored it.
For goodness’ sake, don’t you dare cry. That’s not what this is about.
He clasped the back of my neck, and kissed me, with a fervour that took my breath away. When we finally broke apart, we were both breathless.
‘I will have the staff put your luggage in my suite today,’ he announced.
I swallowed the blip of panic. ‘Perhaps I should stay in the housekeeper’s cottage,’ I offered, unsure again, knowing I wasn’t comfortable moving into his room.
‘Why?’ he asked, genuinely perplexed.
‘It’s... It just feels weird, me living in the house, in your bedroom, I guess.’ I struggled to explain without sounding silly. Or worse, coy.
The puzzled expression became rueful, and amused. ‘Jessie, I want to have you in my bed.’ He lifted my palm to his lips and bit into the soft flesh beneath my thumb.
Sensation streaked through me and I gasped. His answering smile was more than a little self-satisfied. ‘This is what you want too,si?’
‘Well, yes,’ I was forced to admit, even though I now felt impossibly gauche and transparent—and out of my depth. Again.
‘The housekeeper’s villa is too far away,’ he explained carefully. ‘And anyway, you will not be my chef anymore, but my guest.’
I nodded, closing my fingers into a fist, in an attempt to contain the sensation.
It felt wonderful but also frightening to be the centre of Renzo’s attention. Why hadn’t I factored that in when I had agreed to become his lover? Probably because I’d never been any man’s lover before now. It was a whole new experience—that was all. An experience I had no idea how to negotiate.
‘Actually, perhaps I should keep working then. While I’m here,’ I offered, trying to find a way to manage my panic without looking even more clueless.
His brows shot up his forehead, then flattened in a frown. ‘This is foolish, no? I do not wish for you to work, but to be available. So that we can enjoy ourselves.’
