Chapter Five #3
‘You can’t shower, there’s lightning,’ he said gruffly. ‘Rub dry, get warm. There’s towel, track pants, top—’
‘I’m not wearing your clothes,’ she muttered, mortified.
‘Then go naked.’ He stalked past her.
Compressing her mouth, she marched into the bathroom, closed the door and blinked at the ornate marble and gleaming fittings. It was stunning.
‘Be quick,’ he ordered through the door. ‘Power could go out any moment.’
Yeah, no, she just had to take a moment to appreciate the sumptuous—
‘Move, Mia.’
Could he see through walls? Grinding her teeth, she peeled her skirt and blouse off.
She was sodden—including her bra and knickers, and if she left them on they would only make the dry clothes wet.
So she stripped completely, hung her smalls about the room and hoped they’d dry quickly.
The track pants were a little loose but such buttery soft fleece she never wanted to give them back.
The merino tee was soft as well but it clung to a few curves in a way she wished it wouldn’t.
She stared at the mirror in horror—it was a vain hope that he wouldn’t be able to tell that she wasn’t wearing any underwear.
Mortified, she turned away. She could be professional.
She could control her unruly imagination. She could get through this.
Leaving the bathroom, she followed the faint sounds of activity, pausing in the doorway of a large but cosy lounge.
Books were in piles on the shelves, more paintings, thick rugs, but it was Sante hunched by the coffee table who commanded her attention.
He glanced up as she walked forward. Her breath stalled but a fireball exploded in the depths of her belly.
He’d dressed in faded jeans and tee and both served to highlight his fit, muscular frame.
The lights flickered, then went out. Her breathing quickened as she heard a match strike and he lit several candles dotted on the large low table. And now the room was far too intimate.
‘Are you hungry?’ he muttered.
She was too strung out to even know, but food would definitely serve as a distraction. ‘A snack would be great, thank you.’
He lifted the lid on a box on the table. In the flickering candlelight she glimpsed the label and struggled not to smile.
‘They’re from yesterday,’ he said as he slid the box towards her.
‘I’m sure they’re still good.’ She picked the smallest pastry and curled up in the nearest armchair. ‘They’re always good.’
Sante didn’t take one. He stared at her, his scowl deepening before he rose and walked past her.
Mia stared at her pastry and tried to regulate her pulse. A soft blanket was suddenly dropped around her shoulders, cloaking her entire body.
‘Thanks,’ she murmured, surprised.
He sat down in the armchair opposite hers.
Truthfully, she wasn’t at all cold. She nibbled the pastry but it brought an assortment of associations.
All of them dangerous. Desperate to ignore the temptations whispering in her head, she filled the silence.
‘This place is beautiful. It must take a lot of people to maintain it.’
* * *
Sante wasn’t able to speak; he could only stare.
What had he done this time to be punished so cruelly?
He’d come here to escape. Everyone. Everything.
Most especially her. Today as he’d put furniture away and dug supports for saplings, he’d berated himself for being unable to shake his horrifying fixation on her.
Then he’d heard the doorbell and walked around the house to discover he’d manifested her presence.
He’d snapped simply to hide his damned delight.
But she was Mia Lorenti. Adele’s friend.
His employee. His former friend’s little sister who thought the worst of him.
A rich snob to his poor boy. Utterly out of bounds.
Yet, he couldn’t blame her for thinking that damned parcel was vitally important given he’d been asking her for it all day, every day.
But asking about it had been an excuse to stop by her desk—he’d been getting a fix of her attention.
He was pathetic. So he deserved to be punished by seeing her swamped in his clothing, her breasts clearly unfettered, the candlelight enhancing her radiance.
Flushed and inviting, she looked as beautiful as if she’d stepped out of one of the damned frescoes that decorated the walls.
He’d covered her with the blanket but he really needed to grow some self-control.
‘Doesn’t it?’ she prompted.
Doesn’t it what? He had no idea what she’d asked him; he’d been too busy drinking her in.
‘No staff at all?’ she added.
‘No.’
He’d sent them home hours ago. Not because he was generous or anything; he’d just needed to be alone.
He glanced at the window. Okay, he had wanted them to get home safely before the storm hit.
He didn’t want to be in any way responsible for their physical well-being.
He could barely manage the damned trees, let alone the lives of others.
But then Mia had appeared, inappropriately dressed for the weather, arguing with him, all at the worst possible time.
The heavy clouds had swept in so quickly, it might as well be midnight.
She picked at a damned pastry and it was torment waiting for her to spill some cream on herself.
He grabbed one and tore at the thing. Sometimes he still wolfed his food as if it were going to be the last meal for years so he could be a messy eater, too; and these pastries were meant for fingers and the swipe of a tongue and watching her eat them was always a sensual delight.
He willed some filling to spill because he would—
‘Why did you come here?’ he asked abruptly, furious with himself. ‘Surely, it wasn’t just to deliver that parcel.’
‘Yes it was,’ she said stiffly. ‘You were so keen to get it but then you just disappeared and when I left messages, you didn’t bother getting back in touch with me.’
‘So you took it upon yourself to travel all this way?’
‘The last thing you said was that you’d be in first thing and then you just didn’t show. You didn’t even leave a message and then you didn’t pick up your phone.’ She glared at him.
Sante felt a discomforting guilt curl around him. She sounded like she’d been worried. There was no need for that. He was fine. Always fine. But that she’d travelled all this way?
‘I flew last night,’ he explained grimly. ‘Turned off my phone. Left it inside today while I was out—’
‘Preparing for the apocalypse,’ she said acidly.
‘For the storm that was forecast, yes.’
Desperate for distraction now, he picked up his phone and frowned at the mass of messages and the lack of a few specific ones.
Glancing up, he saw her biting back her curiosity and couldn’t help explaining.
‘I’ve not heard from my nearest neighbours,’ he said gruffly.
‘They’re elderly. I checked the stop bank for them but they’re worried and… ’
‘You want to be sure they’re okay. You should call them.’
He tried, but there was no answer.
‘I sent my staff home first thing,’ he muttered, filling the vast void. ‘We’ll be okay up here but if the river bursts its banks, it’ll impact…’
He frowned as she lifted the blanket off her shoulders and slung it on the empty chair beside hers.
‘What are you doing?’ he barked.
‘I’m not actually cold.’
Nor was he. And now he was back to staring at her in his favourite merino tee and he could see the curve of her breasts and her tightly budded nipples. He couldn’t infer anything about her, but he’d never been as aroused in his life.
He desperately needed a drink. If he got blind drunk he’d effectively knock himself out.
Trouble was he’d lose self-control along the way and do everything he shouldn’t before becoming incapacitated.
So he wasn’t taking the risk. He’d stay sober.
But with no power there was no television.
No internet. No radio. The backup generator he had was for the fridge and for emergencies. But hell, this was an emergency.
He tried phoning his neighbours again, hugely relieved when they picked up. They were a distraction he desperately needed. He chatted for a while, making them promise to stay inside. ‘I’ll check on you as soon as the rain stops, okay?’
Finally, he ended the call and put his phone back on the table.
‘Do you feel better now you know they’re okay?’ Mia asked with not-entirely-sweet softness.
He frowned. She might think she was making a point but he’d needed to be alone.
‘You can’t just disappear,’ she added.
Of course he could. He’d been alone from the moment he’d been born, and he frequently disappeared.
Usually, no one noticed. Certainly, no one challenged him on it.
But Mia’s blue eyes flashed with more than chagrin—had she really, genuinely been concerned?
He sank, lost in the blue depths. Of course she had.
This was the bubbly woman who’d worked incredibly hard to welcome everyone who walked through his company doors.
The caring woman who wanted his staff to make connections with each other and with him.
The effervescent woman who hummed in the mornings when she thought no one was there.
The woman who tried and who felt everything deeply.
She sparkled and she was sweet despite her masking sarcasm.
He drew in a steadying breath. She didn’t deserve his anger.
It wasn’t her fault he had such failings.
He should try to be a little more human, less beastly.
‘I’m sorry I was ungracious when you arrived,’ he muttered.
Her eyes widened. ‘Was that—’
‘An apology, yes. Savour it.’
‘I will.’ She slowly smiled. ‘Honestly, I was starting to think the whole thing was some kind of test—so you could dismiss me sooner.’
‘It wasn’t a test,’ he said tightly.
Her smile broadened and destroyed him—killing his ability to play nice, he simply blurted the truth. ‘I didn’t tell you where I was because I was trying to get away from you.’
Her face paled. ‘Right. Of course.’ She blinked and brushed the crumbs from her lap. ‘If you could bring yourself to show me to a guest room, then you won’t have to put up with my unbearable presence.’
‘No. Not good enough,’ he said huskily, standing the same time she did. ‘I’ll still know you’re here. And I’ll know we’re alone.’
He watched her eyes widen, darken.
‘Then what do you want me to do?’ she whispered.
He moved, unable to stop advancing on her, driven to get close. ‘You need me to spell it out?’
‘I think so, yes.’
‘I want you. I’ve wanted you from the second I saw you half-naked in my office. Every night I fantasise about that pastry cream—’ He broke off and caught a breath. ‘Actually, I fantasise about you every night and every day. Pretty much every minute.’
She slowly licked her lip. ‘That must make work complicated.’
‘It makes life extremely difficult, but I have my coping strategies.’
Her lips curved gently. ‘You mean like a work-from-home day?’
‘Today, right.’
‘You still should have left a message.’
‘I just had to get out of there,’ he growled. ‘It’s impossible to think properly when you’re in front of me.’
‘Does that mean you’re not thinking properly now?’
‘Honestly, I’m not sure if you’re even here or if I’m just dreaming.’
‘You carried me up your driveway. You know I’m really here.’
Right, and his arms ached to hold her again, to place her in his bed, to arrange her so he could kiss her everywhere. ‘I hoped you’d let me touch you to prove you’re really here.’
‘Then why not ask to touch me?’
‘Because you’re Mia Lorenti.’
‘Mia Simonini—my family isn’t relevant.’
He hadn’t the strength to argue that one. ‘I’m your boss.’
‘What if I were to ask you to touch me?’ she murmured.
He couldn’t breathe. Didn’t move. Didn’t answer.
But she stepped closer. ‘So I’d have to quit, or you’d have to fire me, before you’d consider touching me?’
‘Neither of which are going to happen.’ He remained still.
‘But you want me.’ Rampant excitement bloomed in her eyes.
Because he was damned. ‘To the point of complete distraction.’
‘You know technically Adele is my boss,’ Mia said gruffly. ‘She signed that contract.’
‘Semantics,’ he sighed. ‘You know the money in your pay cheque comes from me. You know that means there’s a power imbalance.’
‘Not here,’ she whispered. ‘Not now. Here, there’s only you and only me and honestly there’s actually no power at all.’