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‘Yup.’ I just smiled back, more than a little smug.
He gave another long-suffering sigh. ‘Bene, I will tell the staff to move your luggage into the suitenextto mine.’
‘Great,’ I said, the adrenaline rush immense. But before I had a chance to celebrate my victory, he yanked me into his arms and sealed our deal with a kiss so raw and urgent, I was a mass of pulsating sensations—and vivid and confusing emotions—when he finally released me.
‘Do not be surprised if I visit you there,often,’ he said, the dark need in his eyes making the adrenaline rush turbocharged.
‘Okay,’ I said.
He was reaching for me again, when his phone buzzed. He swore and let me go.
After reading the notification, he shoved the mobile back into his pocket. ‘I must go to the gym.’ He nodded towards the breakfast tray I had been preparing for him. ‘Have someone send that down to the gym. Not you...’ he added pointedly, then glanced down at his crotch. ‘The work is already difficult enough.’
A blush bloomed again in my cheeks as I noticed the prominent ridge in his jeans.
Oh...my.
‘Do not look so smug. I will get my revenge tonight.’ He laughed—the sound rueful and yet full of wicked promise—as he placed me away from him, and headed towards the door, his limp more pronounced than usual.
‘Addio, Principessa.’He threw the words over his shoulder, sounding more relaxed and happy than he had since I had first arrived at the chateau.
My heart thundered in my chest, and floated into my throat, as I set about finishing off the breakfast tray before the new chef arrived.
I didn’t feel smug, I realised, I felt light too. Lighter than I had in years—as the next three weeks stretched out before me, full of possibilities and promise. And the chance to finally let go of the sadness which had haunted me for far too long.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Renzo
‘RENZO,THISISWONDERFUL, I’m so glad you are finally going to socialise again. I’ll have Carmine inform the Allegris you are attending the ball and get him to make all the necessary arrangements.’
The enthusiasm and excitement in Henri’s voice made me wince—the last thing I wanted to do was attend a ball when I could no longer dance. And I’d had no intention of accepting the invitation until this morning. But when I had seen the stubborn refusal in Jessie’s eyes I had been forced to come up with a way to persuade her to stay, and the idea of inviting her to the Allegri event had popped into my head before I could think of a better one.
But once I had suggested it, it had seemed like a perfect strategy. Because I had discovered something vitally important about my beautiful chef in the last few weeks. Jessie Burton was a people pleaser. A fixer. A person who wanted to help. Someone who, behind that fiercely independent exterior, was kind and loyal and—I swallowed around the tightness in my throat—sweet. Not the sort of woman I would ever have been drawn to, once upon a time, but for whatever reason it appeared she was the only woman I wanted right now.
I knew I was using her tender nature, her soft-heartedness against her to get what I wanted, and if I had not wanted her so much, I might have felt badly about that. But when she had agreed to stay, I hadn’t regretted my actions... Until now. As the thought of what attending the ball would actually entail began to sink in.
But I would have three weeks with her, before I had to face that ordeal. And who knows how things would be between us by then? In truth, the Allegri Ball would not be so much of an ordeal, with her by my side. And it was an ordeal I would have to face anyway sooner or later. I had not lied to her about the need to be seen in public again. I needed to step back into the spotlight, if not only to save my company, but also certainly to start rebuilding my life as it had been before the crash.
The reason my former life seemed shallow and unappealing to me now was surely only because I had been away from it for so long. Once I returned to the social whirl, it would feel as if I had never left. And hopefully I would begin to enjoy it again.
‘Tell Carmine to let the Allegris know I will be attending the event with a date,’ I announced.
‘C’est merveilleux.’I could hear Henri’s surprise on the other end of the phone. ‘Can I give Carmine a name?’
‘Jessie Burton,’ I said, ignoring the tinge of guilt.
‘The chef?’ The surprise had turned to shock.
‘Si.’
Henri was silent for a long time. But if he disapproved of me dating an employee—something I had never done before—there was no sign of it in his voice when he replied.
‘This is unexpected, Renzo. But good news. So I guess youreallyenjoyed her cooking then?’ he added with a knowing laugh.
‘Oui,’I said, without any humour. I did not find his insinuation funny.
Before the crash, Henri had often teased me about my shameless dating habits, but joking about Jessie made me feel uncomfortable.
