CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER SEVEN
D ETERMINED NOT TO repeat yesterday’s sin of oversleeping, Kelly was up with the lark, creeping along the corridor to the bathroom and submerging herself in a deep bath. But the hot water and scented bubbles did little to relieve the aching deep inside her, no matter how hard she scrubbed her skin with the fancy bergamot soap. She could still feel him. Smell him. Taste him.
What had she done ?
She swallowed.
Lost her virginity…
No. That phrase implied carelessness and there had been nothing remotely careless in her reaction to the Italian billionaire who, up until last night, she had always considered her enemy. He’d given her plenty of opportunity to dismiss their passionate kiss in the kitchen, but she hadn’t taken it, had she? On the contrary. She had left the light on in her room, burning like a bright flag of welcome—as she had lain in bed waiting for him. She’d thought that sort of thing only happened in films. Although she supposed that if it had been a film, she would have been wearing something a bit more flattering than a pair of winceyette pyjamas.
The sex had surpassed all her wildest expectations and then some. But after it was all over and she had been lying there, trembling with the sweet aftermath of all that passion, he had unleashed his insulting conclusion.
‘You’ve got what you’ve always wanted.’
In some ways he was right, but in other ways he was wrong. She had always wanted him—she wasn’t hypocritical enough to deny that. A fumbling pass she’d made all those years ago had planted an unwanted seed inside her. Yes, she’d always fancied him, even if she didn’t want to feel that way. But hadn’t she thought that the fulfilment of all that reluctant longing would bring about some kind of satisfaction—maybe even a sense of peace? Of course she had. Ticking that particular box was supposed to have freed her from his sexy influence, leaving her able to move on with her life. Whereas this morning she felt restless and empty. As if she had left something unfinished.
No.
He had been the one to do that—and it had been deliberate. He’d made it plain he regarded the sex as a mistake. He had spelt out in the most coldly emphatic terms that he wasn’t looking for a relationship and then had turned his back on her and walked out of the room, and she was going to have to live with that. In time she would learn to forget Romano Castelliari and all the pleasure he had given her, and time was a great healer. At least, that was what everyone said, and surely they couldn’t all be wrong.
Pulling on the jeans and sweater which had dried on the radiator, she plaited her hair, reached for a pair of silver earrings, and went downstairs. Floriana and Max were just finishing breakfast but, thankfully, there was no sign of Romano. In a corner of the sunlit dining room, the baby was sleeping peacefully and, as Kelly wandered over, her heart gave an inexplicable wrench as she gazed down at her dozing goddaughter. Was this what first-time sex did to you? she wondered. Did it make you aware of all the possibilities which lay open to you as a woman and question whether you would ever have a baby of your own?
And why should it fill her with a terrible sadness to think that perhaps she wouldn’t?
‘Are you going to have a cornetto ?’ Floriana asked, breaking into her reverie as she proffered the basket of pastries. ‘Max went down to the bakery for them first thing. I always forget how good they are here…stuffed full of marmellata and absolutely scrumptious.’
But Kelly shook her head as she walked over to the table. Her stomach was far too knotted to be able to contemplate eating and the thought that Romano might suddenly stroll into the dining room was making her jumpy. ‘I’ll get something in a while,’ she prevaricated, pouring herself a glass of juice. ‘Thought I’d go out for a walk round the estate. Anyone like to join me?’
‘I’d love to, but Allegra’s due a feed and there’s a whole stack of christening presents to open. Let’s have coffee when you get back.’ Floriana smiled. ‘And at least the nanny has taken Rocco off to play—that child has so much energy. Oh, and before I forget—’ She reached into the back pocket of her jeans and withdrew a familiar piece of black velvet, which she dangled from her finger. ‘This wouldn’t happen to be yours, would it?’
Kelly’s heart started pounding. ‘Y-yes, it’s mine,’ she said, her fingers closing around the hairband as she remembered Romano’s eager fingers loosening it. ‘Wh-where did you find it?’
‘The housekeeper said it was lying on the scullery floor when she arrived for work this morning. She wasn’t quite sure how it got there. Kelly? Are you okay? You’ve gone really red in the face.’
‘That’s because it’s very…hot in here,’ croaked Kelly, fanning her face like an old-fashioned Victorian heroine.
‘You think so? Must be your English blood.’ Floriana laughed. ‘Feels more like the North Pole to me, but of course that’s what happens when it’s uninhabited for most of the winter—doesn’t matter how much you try to whack up the heating, it never really warms up. I’m going to tell Romano that if he isn’t going to live here, then at least he could rent it out.’
‘Or you could move in here yourself,’ drawled a deliciously deep voice as Romano strolled into the dining room.
Kelly didn’t want to stare but surely it would have looked odd—and rude—if she continued to study her glass of succo as if it were a crystal ball and ignored the man who had just walked in. Trying to behave naturally, she nodded him a polite greeting, doing her best not to react to the oxygen-draining power of his presence. But even a block of stone would be turned on by him, she thought grimly. Particularly when he looked like the very personification of sexual fantasy.
He was dressed in riding clothes—leather boots, old-fashioned breeches and a pale shirt, which clung damply to his torso. His ruffled hair was damp too and his face had the soft glow of exertion. He looked as if he’d stepped from another age, when the custodian of a castello like this would have total authority over everyone and everything.
And doesn’t he? she asked herself frantically. Doesn’t he? Not much has really changed since his ancestors pitched up here and started constructing these ancient towers and thick walls.
‘It’s a very kind offer, Romano,’ Floriana was saying to her half-brother. ‘But we told you we could never move in here, not with you acting like mission control from wherever you happen to be in the world. Ask Kelly what she thinks.’
‘Why should we?’ His black eyes glittered ominously. ‘It’s nothing to do with her.’
‘Because she’s my friend,’ answered Floriana stubbornly. ‘And she’ll be able to give you an impartial opinion.’
‘Is that so?’ said Romano softly. ‘Funny. I never really had impartiality down as one of Kelly’s strengths but maybe it’s time for her to prove me wrong. Go ahead, then, Kelly.’ Dark brows were raised in question. ‘The floor’s all yours.’
They all looked at her and Kelly felt like someone who had wandered onto a darkened stage before suddenly being illuminated by a spotlight. Three pairs of eyes were fixed on her but the only person she was conscious of was Romano. Their gazes met and held. For how long? A second? A minute? Long enough for her to suspect that he had the ability to peer into her mind and know how much she ached for him.
And suddenly she could barely breathe. Or think. Because how were you supposed to behave in the cold light of day when you’d been naked with your host the night before, and he’d been sliding his fingers between your thighs? When he’d taken you to the stars and back, before turning round and berating you for deceiving him? Usually she would be glaring at him. Should she do that now? Or did he think that, by his having pleasured her, she would now give him her support in return?
But she couldn’t ignore the undisguised appeal in Floriana’s eyes and Kelly realised she couldn’t let her friend down. He’d asked the question, so answer it. ‘It’s obviously a very kind offer, Romano,’ she said, as diplomatically as she could. ‘But I totally get why they’re not biting your hand off to accept it.’
‘Perhaps you would care to elaborate,’ he suggested.
She ran the tip of her tongue along her bottom lip, trying to ignore the undertone of hostility in his voice. ‘I think if you’re always on the periphery, pulling the strings—then Max and Floriana won’t feel as if they can put their own stamp on the place—’
‘I have no objection to them making alterations,’ he interrupted icily. ‘Provided they are reasonable alterations, of course.’
His eyes had narrowed with calculation and Kelly suddenly got an inkling of the full extent of his power. He wasn’t used to being challenged, she realised. Or refused. People rarely said no to him and when they did, he simply wouldn’t accept it. And suddenly she felt infused with her own kind of power. She was poor, yes, and she didn’t have a fancy status, but at least she wasn’t answerable to anyone else—and didn’t that confer a unique kind of independence upon her? Even if he sacked her for insubordination, she could always find something else, because jobs as cleaners, or barmaids, or waitresses were ten a penny.
‘It’s no fun if they have to ask your permission before they can do anything, Romano,’ she ventured. ‘How are Max and Floriana supposed to feel like it’s their for-ever home, if they have to run everything past her fierce big brother before they can even slap some paint on a wall?’
‘Fierce?’ he echoed ominously.
‘Oh, come on. You’re not totally devoid of insight.’ She met the ebony burn of his eyes without flinching. ‘Surely even you aren’t going to deny that!’
A disbelieving silence followed, broken only by Floriana’s soft interjection.
‘Wow.’
Kelly blinked, becoming dimly aware that the married couple had been following the heated exchange with total fascination, their heads turning from side to side, like spectators at a tennis match. And suddenly she realised that she and Romano were behaving very differently towards each other, and wouldn’t Floriana and Max wonder why? Because having sex with someone changed everything, didn’t it? It had to. They had crossed a line last night and they could never go back, no matter what happened in the future.
Once again she could feel herself blushing, the blood rushing to the roots of her hair, which she knew only too well was a deeply unflattering look for a freckly redhead. She needed to get out of there, before any more giveaway emotions spilled out. ‘But this is family business, not mine,’ she added hastily. ‘And I need some fresh air. I’ll see you later, Flo. I’ll kick a ball around with Rocco and then we can have some coffee before you head off.’
Exiting at speed, she went outside into the pale February morning, only dimly aware that there was a slight nip to the air and she should have gone and found her jacket first. Rubbing her hands up and down her arms, she began to walk. How was it going to be possible to stay here, working for him— cleaning for him for ten days—when her feelings were so conflicted? Because when he’d walked into that dining room just now, she’d felt like the same starstruck schoolgirl who had peered down at him from the window of the sanitorium all those years ago. Why should that be? Yes, he had been an amazing lover—no surprise there—but surely exposure to his emotional coldness should have killed off her long-term crush. Just let me feel… nothing , she prayed silently. That wasn’t too much to ask, was it?
She continued to wander around the sprawling estate, remembering much of the layout from the days leading up to Floriana’s aborted marriage to the count. Back then, the place had been buzzing. She remembered lanterns strung from the trees, a string quartet flown in from Rome and a pre-wedding feast of unrivalled splendour—and in the end it had all been for nothing. Yet now she wondered if things could have been done differently. If the union could have been called off in a way which didn’t involve a tear-stained Floriana’s middle-of-the-night exile from Italy. Should she have gone to Romano? Kelly wondered. Risked his wrath and appealed to his better nature? Did he even have one?
Her footsteps took her along a path between two tall rows of cherry trees, their tips frothy and pink with early blossom. Tiny violet flowers were growing in profusion beneath them and nearby shrubs were fragrant with waxy white blooms. Despite the faintly neglected air of the castello ’s interior, the terraced gardens were as stunning as ever and the jaw-dropping views over the valley were unchanged. Birds were singing their hearts out and, from the other side of the valley, Kelly could hear a church bell ringing. In that moment everything seemed so delightfully Italian and she found herself wondering why Romano was so averse to making such a glorious place his permanent home.
She was so lost in thought that at first she didn’t properly register the crunch of gravel, but then she realised she was no longer alone and she despaired of the traitorous leap of her heart when she guessed who it must be.
Abruptly, she stopped and turned, wanting to surprise him, but he seemed to be expecting it, his cursory nod failing to disguise the faintly combative light which gleamed from his black eyes. She shivered as their gazes clashed and she hoped he hadn’t noticed. So now what? Should she greet him in a cheery manner? That didn’t seem appropriate somehow. The fact that she didn’t officially start work until the others had left for Rome was a mere technicality. From here on in he is really your boss, she told herself, and might have bobbed a sarcastic curtsey if she hadn’t been so taken aback by his appearance.
Because in the time it had taken her to traverse the vast estate, he must have showered and changed for his damp riding gear had been replaced by an immaculate charcoal suit and a dark shirt. Strength and power emanated from every hard sinew of his body and Kelly sucked in an unsteady breath, tortured by the sudden the memory of how magnificent he had looked when he was naked. With black hair glinting in the sunlight and his skin glowing with health, he looked vital and virile. But his eyes were like ice. Dangerous black ice.
Yet despite his emotional coldness, all Kelly could think of was how much she wanted to touch him. With some of the confidence she had acquired in his arms last night, she wanted to lean in and breathe in that potent masculine scent. She wanted to trace the shadowed curve of his jaw with her finger and burrow her hands underneath his shirt so she could feel the satin of his skin. And that was the very last thing she should be thinking, when he hadn’t been able to get out of her bedroom quick enough last night.
‘You seem to make a habit of jumping out and scaring people,’ she exclaimed crossly.
‘I was calling your name, but you seemed oblivious. Anyway, you don’t look in the least bit scared to me.’
‘I’m pretending.’
‘Sì,’ he drawled acidly. ‘Pretence is one of your undoubted talents, isn’t it, Kelly?’
How did he manage to make an insult sound so… sexy ? Was it because it was accompanied by the mocking gleam of his eyes, which was making her think about kissing him? She was breathing a little too rapidly and her heart was slamming against her ribcage. ‘What do you want?’ she questioned weakly. ‘To fight?’
‘I suspect our fight would finish very differently from the way it started, cara .’
She swallowed. ‘Please don’t call me darling, when we both know you don’t mean it.’
‘Your command of the Italian language is coming along leaps and bounds.’
‘Yes. Obviously I’ve been quick to learn the words for “tyrant” and “despot”!’
He laughed as he glanced up at the strawberry milkshake blur of the blossom overhead, before lowering his head to survey her from between shuttered eyes. ‘Did you tell Floriana?’
‘Tell her what?’
He gave a click of irritation. ‘About what happened last night.’
‘That depends what you’re referring to, Romano. A lot of things happened last night,’ she declared. ‘There was a party after the christening, during which you did your best to showcase how well you could glower and stomp around the room. Much later, I did the washing up, and—’
‘Don’t play games with me, Kelly,’ he warned softly.
Kelly bit her lip. How would he respond if she told him she didn’t know how else to behave? Flippancy seemed a safer bet than vulnerability and surely insolence would protect her against this dangerous and destabilising rush of emotion. Because, standing here in the pure light of the early spring morning, it was hard to get her head around what they had done. This handsome and intimidating man had been her lover. He had explored her in a way which no other man had before. He had been inside her. He had choked out something helpless as he had come and this kind of thing happened to women all over the world, every single day. Did it make them feel different, too? As if a new person were inhabiting the same skin. As if she didn’t really know herself any more. She cleared her throat. ‘I take it you’re referring to our ill-advised grapple in the bedroom?’
His brow creased. ‘Our what ?’
‘Oh, come on, Romano. We both know your English is good enough not to require a dictionary definition of grapple .’
A hiss of air was expelled from his lips. ‘You insult me, Kelly Butler,’ he told her quietly. ‘Was that your intention?’
‘Well, maybe a bit, yes,’ she admitted. ‘You’re so easy to wind up. But I’m also trying to be realistic. Because how else would you describe what we did? Surely you wouldn’t want me to put a romantic spin on it? Because that would be completely false. And since it was nothing more than physical, then why would I embarrass Floriana by telling her? She probably wouldn’t believe me anyway. She knows how much we dislike one another. It wasn’t my finest hour.’ She gave a short laugh. ‘Nor yours, I imagine.’
‘ Porca miseria , but your tongue can wound,’ he observed wryly.
‘Maybe it’s good for you to know how it feels, because yours can too.’ She could hear the faint vibration of a phone sounding in his breast pocket but he didn’t answer it. ‘Look, somebody’s trying to get hold of you. Take your call. I’m going back to the castle.’
‘The call can wait. I will come with you.’
She shrugged, as if that might somehow cancel out the excited leap of her heart. ‘Suit yourself,’ she said carelessly, once again noting the superb cut of his clothing. ‘And speaking of suits—why are you dressed like that?’
Romano fell into step beside her, wondering how she could manage to look so attractive in the striped sweater he’d seen before and an oversized pair of crumpled jeans. He had deliberately absented himself from the castello this morning, even though he was curious to see how she would react to him in the cold light of day, wondering if she would gush or pursue him, as women always did after sex. But not Kelly. She hadn’t sought him out on his ride to gaze at him with admiring eyes, nor looked at him knowingly when he’d walked into the room as if to remind him of last night’s intimacy. She had been nothing but her usual feisty and combative self and had given him a very honest piece of her mind, without any apparent heed of the consequences. Once again, she had confused him.
A reluctant sigh left his lungs. She was a puzzle, this unexpected virgin who had given herself to him with such sweetness. And Romano did not like puzzles.
He liked answers.
Facts.
Certainty.
Because all of those things guaranteed control and that was the only thing he trusted. Control meant you didn’t panic, or scream. It had been the earliest lesson he’d ever learned. The only lesson which really mattered. A forbidden image flashed into his mind and he tensed as he recalled that lost little boy, alone with his mother’s body.
No. A pulse flared at his temple. Some things you never forgot, no matter how hard you tried.
For a while last night, he had lost some of his habitual control and it had unsettled him . Back in his room, he had been determined to put the redhead out of his mind and, for a man who had always been able to compartmentalise his lovers, it should have been easy. But eyes as bright as emeralds had ambushed his dreams and those fleshy curves had taunted him with remembered rapture and he had woken this morning, aching and hard and out of sorts.
‘What did make you drop out of art school?’ he questioned suddenly.
Her footsteps momentarily faltered on the gravel path and he saw the hesitation on her face. The sudden unexpected flash of pain. And then her expression became blank again.
‘My mother was sick.’ She started walking again, increasing her speed as if she didn’t want him to keep up, but he did, his long stride easily outstripping hers.
‘Tell me about it, Kelly,’ he urged, remembering that when he’d heard, he’d naturally assumed she was flighty—without the staying power to tackle a three-year degree course.
‘There’s not really that much to tell. I moved in with her to nurse her, though it was a bit cramped. She had a little flat she’d bought when she retired as matron, and when she died, I…’
‘You what?’ he questioned, more gently than usual, and he wondered if that explained her somewhat startled look as she came to a halt again and blinked up at him, almost as if she had forgotten he was there.
‘By then it was three years down the line and I didn’t feel like going back and being a student again. I’d seen too much that was…grim and…’ She shrugged her shoulders, her throat working convulsively. ‘I don’t know. Apart from the fact that we’d managed to accrue quite a bit of debt while Mum was ill, it just seemed sort of irrelevant to sit around discussing art and politics while everyone around me was getting drunk.’
‘And your father?’
Her eyes narrowed and he wondered if she would shut the topic down, but she didn’t and when she spoke her voice was very quiet. ‘I never knew my father.’
‘At all?’
‘No. He was a doctor, apparently—a very junior doctor at the hospital in London where my mother trained as a nurse. She’d come from a very rural area of Ireland and was pretty na?ve about life in the big city.’
He flinched, but didn’t say anything, just waited for her to continue.
‘My dad was a bit of a charmer, by all accounts, and he and Mum hooked up. But getting pregnant had never been part of his plan. In fact, he was horrified when she told him and he dumped her.’ She swallowed. ‘She got in contact with him when I was a few months old but by then he was engaged to somebody else. Somebody quite posh. Somebody like him, of course. Apparently, he was quite rude to my mum. Told her to take him to court if she wanted money and, of course, she just crumbled at that. So she was on her own.’
‘And what about her family?’ he shot out. ‘Didn’t they support her?’
She pursed her lips as if choosing her words carefully. ‘They were very old-fashioned and concerned with what they perceived to be right or wrong. They told her they would never open their doors to a child born out of wedlock, and they meant it.’
‘So you’ve never met them either?’
‘Nope.’ She drew her shoulders back, the spill of her hair the colour of marmalade in the morning sunshine. ‘Most people don’t keep going back for more and more rejection, Romano,’ she added proudly. ‘It’s a survival thing. I think she was trying to teach me to be resilient, which was why she always used to drum in how awful men were at heart and how they would always try to take advantage of you. Now I can see that her attitude was extreme—but it definitely brushed off on me. I guess that must have been one of the reasons why I was so inexperienced…’
He shook his head as her words tailed off, angry with himself. Angry he hadn’t known about her sick mother and her purity and the fact that the ‘brittle party girl’ persona had been nothing but a mask. But he was angry with her too, for keeping this information to herself—because wouldn’t he have behaved differently if he had known? Almost certainly. He would have kept her at arm’s length. She would have remained a fantasy woman, not one who had the power to enter his dreams.
But he hadn’t been interested in delving into her past, had he?
He hadn’t been able to see past the lure of her lips and her tiny, shapely body.
‘I’m going to Turin,’ he announced abruptly, because hadn’t that been the reason he’d come out here to find her, to tell her that?
‘Oh?’ Her eyes narrowed. ‘Why?’
Romano furrowed his brow. He could explain that he had business to attend to, which would be true. He always had business to attend to—his punishing schedule ensured that. But evasion would serve neither of them well, and perhaps he was motivated by a need to make things clear to himself, as well as to her.
‘Because I’ve decided it isn’t going to work, us being here together,’ he said flatly.
‘Why not?’
‘Are you really so na?ve, Kelly?’ And then he scowled, because yes, of course she was, and suddenly he knew he couldn’t bear to take advantage of her, not when he had misjudged her so badly. Wouldn’t leaving her alone be the best thing he could do for her? Because what was the alternative? ‘What do you think is going to happen if we stay here after everyone else has gone?’ he demanded. ‘How is that going to work? Me going out of my way to avoid you. Both of us trying not to think about what we did last night, with both of us unable to forget?’
‘It’s a big enough place for our paths never to cross,’ she pointed out practically.
‘And what about mealtimes?’ he continued, her reasonable tone only adding to his ire. ‘You think we’re going to sit chastely across the table from one another when there’s only one thing on our minds?’
‘Speak for yourself,’ she protested. ‘I’ll be so hungry after cleaning this massive great pile of yours that I won’t be able to look at anything other than my plate.’
He shot her a steady look. ‘Are you saying you don’t want me, Kelly? That you’re not wishing I’d pull you into the shade of that cypress tree and make love to you even now? No,’ he added grimly as he saw the molten dilation of her green eyes. ‘I thought not.’
‘So does this mean you’re going to sack me, before I’ve even started?’
He shook his head. ‘No, of course I’m not going to sack you. But I’m not staying here. You’re too much of a temptation. I will arrange for some of my security people to stay on the estate to keep an eye on the place while you’re here. Graziana is the housekeeper. You will report to her—she’ll come in from the village every day. My assistant has arranged for your hire car to be returned and she will arrange your transport back to England once your employment is up. I think that’s everything.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘You’re not frightened of being here on your own, are you?’
‘Huh! It would take a lot more than being stuck in a billionaire’s fortified castello to scare me!’ she retorted, with a touch of her customary fire.
‘Good. Because let’s be clear about one thing.’ He glanced up and his voice dipped, as if the flock of flamingos flying overhead was capable of understanding his words. ‘I’m not having sex with you again, Kelly. Do you understand?’