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It was obvious he was not at all happy with my suggestion. But while I was totally on board with us enjoying the chemistry between us for the next three weeks—because that throbbing in my sex was not going away anytime soon—the thought of just sitting around all day while he did his physio, then being ready to put out whenever he wanted felt...well, wrong. We wouldn’t be equals anymore. I would be at his beck and call. And I didn’t like that thought. At all.
But more than that...
I didn’t want to have too much time to ponder our relationship... Not relationship, I corrected myself quickly. Ouraffair.
Also, I was not an idle person. I’d always worked, ever since I was thirteen and I had got my first job at the local chip shop, peeling and chopping potatoes before school, so I could get free food, and help with the bills my mum often forgot to pay. Plus, it was already going to feel super weird when the rest of the staff realised what was going on—without me swanning about the house with nothing to do all day.
It would still be super awkward, of course, if I carried on working in the kitchen while also sleeping with the boss, and I was sure there would be more than a few raised eyebrows. But I wouldn’t feel so compromised. Because at least I would still have a role here, other than being his mistress.
His mistress.
I pushed the word away. But even so, it made me remember my mum, and the awful guys she had attached herself to, because she had craved male affection and wanted someone to look after her, because she was scared of being alone, of surviving on her own. I had always refused to be like her—which had to be why the thought of being Renzo’s ‘guest’ felt so wrong.
‘I can’t move into your bedroom, Renzo.’ I said. ‘And I’d really like to carry on working for you. If that’s okay.’
‘This is madness.’ He huffed, and I could see he was exasperated, but I knew I couldn’t back down. ‘And not convenient.’
He clasped my hips and pulled me closer to nuzzle the pulse point in my neck and make me ache.
‘I adore the food you cook for me...’ he added, the husky tenor of his voice doing devastating things to my insides. ‘But I like the taste of you more.’
I placed my hands against his broad chest, felt the distracting ripple of muscle as I pushed him back.
‘Please, Renzo. It’s important to me,’ I said, my voice firm, or as firm as it could be while his hands were wandering up my waist, his magic thumbs gliding under my T-shirt.
He frowned again, but then the smile returned, and I could see calculation as well as determination. ‘What about the chef who has been hired to replace you?’ he asked, all innocence.
Oh, damn. It was my turn to frown. How could I have forgotten about Matteo Galvini? Who was due to arrive in an hour expecting to take over my kitchen.
‘Maybe you’re right, maybe I should just go?’ I said, stupidly devastated at the thought of leaving, but somehow knowing I couldn’t agree to thisaffairon his terms.
I stepped back, but he grasped my hips to drag me back towards him.
‘No, you cannot leave, we will find a compromise,’ he announced. The smile was gone, replaced with grim determination. And some silly corner of my heart was flattered, that this arrangement seemed to mean enough for him to bend, when I knew he was not a man who liked to bend.Ever.
‘What if you cook in the morning and he cooks in the evening?’ he said. ‘Then we can have the nights at least.’ I could see he wasn’t happy with the compromise. But my heart leapt at the thought he was trying to find a solution. For me.
‘That could work,’ I said, excitement firing through my veins. ‘That could totally work. If Mr Galvini is okay with that arrangement.’
‘I will speak to Henri and have him change the contract,’ he said. ‘Do not worry, Galvini will be very pleased with this arrangement.’
I wasn’t exactly sure what that meant, but I didn’t question him. I didn’t want to leave. And I was impossibly flattered he was willing to make this work. For both of us.
‘But I want you closer than the housekeeper’s villa,’ he added, wrapping his arms around my waist. And kissing me lightly. ‘This is not negotiable, Jessie,’ he continued, and it was clear from the look in his eyes, he was not going to bend much more than he already had.
I nodded. ‘Okay, how about if I move into a suite near yours? Would that work?’ I offered, happy to negotiate too now, knowing I had already got a rare concession out of him.
Doesn’t make you special, Jess, just remember that.
He stared at me for the longest time. But then he sighed. ‘You drive a very hard bargain,Principessa,’ he said, still sounding exasperated.
The feeling of validation. Of approval. That I had managed to bargain with him. That I hadn’t just capitulated, made my chest feel tight.
‘I know,’ I said, not quite able to contain my grin of triumph. ‘Have we got a deal?’ I asked, echoing his earlier question.‘Per favore,’I added, cheekily.
He huffed out a laugh. ‘I have created a monster, I think.’
