Chapter 18
‘I’d better get back,’ Rocco said, making absolutely no attempt whatsoever to get up. It was mid-afternoon and he was lying in Giselle’s bed, where they’d spent most of the previous four days since the games. He was far too comfy to move – and horny.
Her head was on his chest, her arm lying across his stomach, one leg hooked over his, but it wasn’t enough. He wanted to feel every inch of her again. And again, and…
‘I’d better create some pictures,’ Giselle said, although she didn’t make any move to get up either. Or rather, she did, but not the kind of move that lent itself to getting out of bed.
There was a sort of up involved, though, as she climbed on top of him, smiling wickedly.
‘Not just yet,’ she added, her lips hovering above his. ‘Kiss me.’
His breathing was ragged, his voice hoarse. He couldn’t get enough of her. With a groan, he buried his fingers in her hair, pulling her head down—
And then his phone rang.
Rocco groaned again, but this time with frustration.
‘Do you need to answer that?’ Giselle asked.
‘No, what I need is you,’ he replied, waiting for it to stop. ‘Where were we?’
‘Here, I believe,’ she said, nibbling his neck. ‘And here.’
It rang again.
‘For goodness’ sake!’ he cried. ‘Can’t a man have five minutes’ peace?’
‘I think you’ll find you’ve had more than five minutes,’ Giselle giggled.
‘Let me get rid of them.’ He eased himself out of bed and down the ladder, wishing he’d put the damned thing on silent, or had turned it off completely. He’d left it in the pocket of his jeans, which were currently on the floor near the sofa, along with the rest of his hastily discarded clothing.
‘Nice view,’ she called, and he glanced over his shoulder to find her leaning over the balustrade, her chin resting on her folded arms as she ogled his bare backside.
Rocco blew her a cheeky kiss.
His phone stopped as he got to it, but began ringing again almost immediately. ‘It’s Cal,’ he said, filled with sudden worry. ‘Hi, what’s wrong?’
‘Your mother is asking for you. She’s—’ Cal paused, lowering his voice ‘—quite insistent.’
‘Tell her I’ll call her later. It’s not really convenient right now.’ Then he added hastily, ‘No need to mention that last bit.’
‘There most definitely isn’t,’ his mother said frostily, ‘because she can hear you.’
Rocco froze. ‘Beverly?’
‘The very same.’
‘What—? Why are you on Cal’s phone?’ The penny dropped. She was here, wasn’t she? On Skye. In Duncoorie. In the castle.
‘Because,’ she replied, ‘he seems to be able to get through to you when no one else can.’
Rocco was lost for words.
Unfortunately, Giselle wasn’t. ‘Is everything OK, Rocco?’ she called.
‘Who’s that?’ Beverly demanded.
‘No one important.’ Not to her at least; if it wasn’t business, Beverly wasn’t interested.
He put a finger to his lips and shook his head at Giselle.
His instinct, whether or not it was right, was to keep his mother as far away from Giselle as possible.
Beverly would eat her alive. ‘I’ll be there in ten minutes,’ he said to his mother. ‘Can you put Cal back on?’
‘Sorry,’ Cal muttered. ‘She grabbed it out of my hand.’
Rocco said, ‘Not your fault. Could you arrange for some refreshments for her? I’ll be there as quick as I can.’
‘Problems?’ Giselle asked.
She was standing at the foot of the ladder wrapped in a silky satin robe, her hair tousled, her lips full and pink, her alabaster legs bare. The robe left little to the imagination and Rocco wanted nothing more than to take her to bed again.
‘Beverly is here.’
‘By “here” you mean…?’
‘At the castle. I’d better go.’ He ran a hand through his hair.
‘Were you expecting her?’
‘No.’
Giselle bit her lip. Rocco felt like doing the same. Why was his mother here? What was going on?
‘Do you mind giving me a lift to the studio?’ Giselle asked. Her tone was formal, and when he opened his arms, she hesitated before stepping into them.
Rocco held her close, revelling in the feel of her body pressed against his, even if there was a layer of green satin between them.
‘I’m sorry,’ he whispered into her hair.
‘So am I.’ She pulled back. ‘Have I got time for a shower?’
‘Only if I can join you in it,’ he murmured huskily. ‘My mother can wait five more minutes.’
‘Five minutes won’t be long enough.’
‘No,’ he replied thoughtfully. ‘I doubt it will be.’
Thirty-five minutes later, Rocco’s car pulled into one of the
castle’s reserved parking spaces, and he cut the engine with a resigned
sigh. He couldn’t put this off any longer. It was time to find out why
his mother was here, then pack her off back to London.
‘I’ll speak to you later,’ he promised Giselle, and as she leant across to kiss him, he hesitated, but only for a fraction. Beverly was unlikely to be watching, especially if Cal had secreted her in the lounge.
Giselle’s mouth was warm and soft, and he had to drag himself away.
‘Hope everything’s OK,’ she said, getting out of the car.
So did he. Rocco knew Beverly had expected him home before now, but surely he was entitled to a few days of R&R.
Resolutely, he entered the castle, smiled a greeting to Avril, who was staring at him with wide eyes (his mother often had that effect on people), and straightened his shoulders as he walked into the lounge.
Beverly was seated near one of the windows with a view over the loch, but either she’d had her fill of the scenery or it didn’t impress her, because she had a slim electronic notebook open on her lap and was staring at the screen.
He was pleased to see she’d had a coffee, but the presence of a second cup was a silent admonishment that he’d kept her waiting long enough for her to have drunk another.
As he headed towards her, he signalled to one of the staff to bring a couple more coffees, although he had a feeling he’d need something stronger than Jamaica’s finest Blue Mountain blend.
‘Beverly, hi.’ He sat opposite on one of the low-slung leather sofas and cocked an ankle across his knee, the epitome of relaxed despite feeling distinctly unrelaxed.
His mother took a moment to finish typing and close the notebook before she acknowledged his presence. ‘I was beginning to think you’d been eaten by the Loch Ness Monster.’
‘Wrong loch. Sorry I wasn’t here when you arrived. I would have been, if I’d known you were coming. I’ll have a word with Nora.’
Beverly’s eyes were wide with fake innocence. ‘I must have forgotten to tell her.’
His mother had her own PA, so she hadn’t needed Nora to make the travel arrangements, but the PAs did talk so he could only assume Nora had been deliberately kept out of the loop.
‘Do we have a problem?’ he asked.
‘I’m not sure. Do we? Do you?’
‘Not at all.’
‘You see, I thought you might be floundering, in over your head. Otherwise, why the delay? You’ve been here two weeks, Rocco.’
‘I needed a break.’
‘Hmm.’ She wasn’t convinced, he could tell.
She was about to say more when he sensed someone approach from behind. Expecting it to be a waiter with their drinks, he glanced up and inhaled sharply when he saw who it was. ‘Claire!’
Claire placed a red-nailed hand on his shoulder and bent to kiss him, her scarlet lips landing just to the right of his mouth. ‘Mmm,’ she said, sotto voce, ‘You smell as though you’ve just come out of the shower.’
He blew out his cheeks. ‘I didn’t expect to see you here.’
‘Beverly thought you might benefit from my expertise.’
His mother smiled sweetly at him as Claire sat down, smoothing her tight-fitting skirt.
Claire favoured slimline skirts, smart tailored jackets and power heels.
And red. She liked red when it came to lips, nails and the soles of her shoes.
Today’s suit was navy, the blouse cream and silky.
Claire was attractive, efficient, highly intelligent and ambitious, and Beverly had employed her for those very qualities.
And, Rocco suspected, for one or two that weren’t so obvious.
But although Beverly held a certain sway over him because she was his CEO, he drew the line at his mother trying to organise his private life.
Arranged marriages weren’t his cup of tea, even if it would be good for the business.
‘We’ll talk over dinner,’ Beverly said. ‘See how Claire can help. I’d like to freshen up first. That drive was interminably long.’
Rocco closed his eyes, drew in a deep breath, then opened them again. ‘Wait here.’
He headed back out to the foyer and approached the front desk. Even before he asked Avril the question, he knew what her answer would be. ‘We have just the one double room available,’ she told him.
‘Not a twin?’
‘Sorry, it’s a double.’
‘No room at the inn?’ Claire’s breath tickled his ear, making him jump.
Rocco scowled. Thinking aloud, he said, ‘I suppose you could have that, and my mother could have my room. I can sleep on the sofa in the sitting room.’
‘Beverly won’t like that.’
‘She hasn’t got any choice. If she’d discussed her visit with me first, I’d have told her the castle is almost at full capacity.’
Claire wound her arm through his. ‘Let your mother have the double. I can share with you.’
Aware that Avril was hanging on every word, he said to the receptionist, ‘Can you ensure the double room is ready and see if housekeeping can put fresh sheets on my bed, please?’
He’d get his mother and Claire settled, then he really needed to speak to Cal.
Giselle was startled when Avril barrelled into the studio. ‘I was going to phone across, then I saw your light on,’ she puffed.
She looked odd and Giselle got to her feet, concerned. ‘Are you all right?’
‘I’ve, um, got some news. About Rocco. His mother is here.’
Was that all? Giselle breathed a sigh of relief. ‘I know. Let me lock the door and you can tell me what she’s like.’
It was a bit early to close, because the gift shop and cafe were still open and most of the other studios were too, but she turned the key in the lock and flipped the sign on the door to ‘Closed’, anyway.
‘I was with Rocco when Cal phoned him with the news,’ she said, hoping she wasn’t blushing as much as she feared she might be.
‘She isn’t on her own. She’s brought someone with her.’
From the tone of Avril’s voice and her expression, Giselle had an awful feeling she wasn’t going to like what she was about to hear. ‘Who?’ she asked.
‘Her name’s Claire, and I think she’s going to be staying with Rocco. In his room.’
‘What?’ Giselle slumped against the counter.
Avril hurriedly continued, ‘It might be perfectly innocent because we’re fully booked, apart from one room, and his mother is having that, so Claire suggested she share his.’
‘And he agreed?’
Avril hung her head and nodded. ‘The woman was all over him.’
Claire. It was a name Giselle had heard before. He’d told her she was a colleague. Ha bloody ha!
She gasped, sucker punched, as her chest filled with a pain she’d never experienced before.
Hurt and betrayed, she wanted to bawl her eyes out, but another emotion simmered underneath.
Jealousy. Make that two emotions, as anger joined in.
She went with anger, closely followed by the green-eyed monster, as the better option.
She would allow the heartache free rein later, when she was alone.
The bastard!
‘What does she look like?’ she demanded savagely.
Avril’s face was full of sympathy. ‘Don’t do this, Giselle,’ she advised. ‘He’s not worth it.’
‘You may as well tell me. It’s not as though he’ll be able to hide her away in his flaming turret, so I’ll see for myself soon enough. I’m asking so I know to avoid her.’
‘Tall, slim, corporate.’ Avril spat out the last word as though it were an insult. ‘All glossy dark hair and long red talons. She wore a power suit and lots of make-up.’
Giselle seethed. It was preferable to bursting into tears.
Avril continued, ‘He didn’t look happy. He told her off for not telling him she was coming.’
Giselle wasn’t surprised. No man wanted his girlfriend and his bit on the side to meet. No wonder he’d been reluctant to kiss her in the car just now. He’d clearly been worried Claire would see them.
Giselle pressed her lips together to stop her chin wobbling, conscious of Avril’s pity.
When she’d wrested control, she said, ‘Thanks for letting me know.’
‘Will you be all right?’
She most definitely wouldn’t be. ‘Of course I will. It was just a bit of fun, although I would never have had any fun at all if I’d realised he was already taken. I feel sorry for his girlfriend. The poor cow doesn’t know what she’s letting herself in for.’
‘Do you want me to stay with you for a bit? I’ve just clocked off, so…’
Giselle shook her head. ‘I’m fine, honestly. I’ve got lots of work to do.’ That bit was true, as she hated being short of stock to sell in the gift shop, but the ‘I’m fine’ bit was an outright lie.
How could she be fine, when she was in love with a two-timing shit like Rocco?