Chapter One #3
Uh-oh, another spine-tingling endearment.
How was she going to keep her crush at level six if Vic kept uttering those gorgeous words to her?
The heat in her cheeks threatened to fog up the car windows.
She tried to hold his penetrating gaze, but she simply couldn’t do it.
She turned to stare at the glass panel in front of her that separated them from the driver. ‘Not lucky at all.’
‘No current partner?’
‘No.’
‘When did you last have one?’
She tightened her hands around her tote bag until her knuckles became white. ‘I suppose you’ve been talking to my brother, have you?’
‘About what?’
She kept her gaze fixed on the glass panel, but she could see his reflection in it as well as her own. He was looking at her with a quiet intensity she found a little unnerving. ‘I haven’t dated for a while.’
‘How long a while?’
She sat there for an infinitesimal moment and lamented the fact that if she had been an honours student of small talk, she would have thought of something witty to say that would have deftly swung the subject in another direction. But instead, she answered, ‘It’s…complicated.’
‘Aren’t most people’s love-lives?’
She let out a serrated sigh and glanced in his direction. He was frowning at her like he had never seen anyone like her before. But then, he probably hadn’t. There were not many twenty-eight-year-old virgins floating around these days. Or at least, not in the circles he swam in.
Addie turned back to fix her gaze on her bag on her lap.
‘I’m…picky.’ It wasn’t the whole truth, but it would do for now.
She hadn’t told anyone about The Incident.
Who was she going to tell? Her mother? Solange wasn’t the type of mother to sit with her arm around you while you recounted the worst night of your life.
Especially when it was her mother’s popularity and beauty and fame that had turned Addie into a sexual trophy at only fifteen years of age.
She was fortunate she found out in time that the boy she thought was in love with her and she with him, only wanted to sleep with her so he could gain street cred with his friends.
Talk about mortifying. To this day, every time she was naked, she’d think of that awful moment when that horrible realisation dawned.
How could she have been so foolish to think anyone would want her for her ?
‘Nothing wrong with being a little picky.’ There was a quality to Vic’s voice that made her glance at him again. He let out a rueful-sounding sigh and added, ‘Maybe I should follow your example.’ He looked back down at his paperwork with a small frown between his brows.
‘What? You’re not finding the playboy lifestyle fulfilling any more now Marcus isn’t out on the town slaying hearts with you?’ She affected a teasing tone.
He gave a half smile that didn’t reach his eyes.
They were unreadable pools of black mystery that made her more and more intrigued by him.
He reminded her of a deep body of still water.
What you saw on the surface gave no clue to the dangers or the delights below.
You simply had to take the risk to find out.
She was not a risk-taker, so…maybe she’d never find out. Pity.
‘I’m not into breaking hearts. I’ve always been clear on what I can and cannot bring to a relationship.’
‘I hate to be pedantic, but is it still called a relationship if it’s only a one-night hook-up?’
‘Isn’t any interaction with another human being, no matter how short, a relationship of sorts?’
She found it hard to hold his gaze even as inscrutable as it was. The philosophical turn the conversation had taken secretly delighted her. She loved nothing better than a deep and meaningful discussion, hence her aversion to shallow small talk.
‘Good point,’ she said, nodding slowly in agreement. ‘But how do you keep your feelings out of it? Asking for a friend.’
His smile was like a light coming on after a blackout. It transformed his face, softening his stern features, making him seem younger and far less intimidating.
‘Tell your friend that it takes less work as the years roll on. I don’t even think about it now when I hook up with someone. It’s purely a physical thing.’
There was one part of her that was sitting there wondering what the hell she was doing talking about hook-ups with Vic Jacobetti, but another part was fascinated by his ability to control his feelings to that degree.
She was good at controlling her feelings too, but they were still there under the surface, even if she didn’t show it on her face.
She felt them. She was always conscious of them.
They were deep down inside her, as deep as a kelp forest anchored to the ocean floor, its long fronds waving and flowing and twisting and turning with the tides of life.
Sometimes, when she was alone, they could softly brush at her ankles, that brief touch setting off a panic she had to work hard to shut down otherwise she could become entangled and pulled under.
Even that imagined touch of the tentacle-like fronds was a visceral reminder of their lurking presence, their power to drown her.
She couldn’t imagine getting naked with someone and not feeling anything…well, apart from shame, but of course she didn’t want to talk about that.
Vic was trying not to think about all the work he had to put on hold while he accompanied Addie Featherstone to look after their goddaughter, Katerina.
He was also trying not to think about how sweet and shy and unassuming Addie was, especially compared to the women he associated with in his so-called private life.
His life was not as private as he would have liked—it was too hard to avoid the attention when he owned one of the most successful hotel chains in the world.
But success was his badge of honour, the way he honoured the memory of his late father who had founded the company.
Spending a few days at his Lake Como villa with Addie was the only solution he could come up with at short notice.
The only solution he knew Marcus and Isabella would be content with given Marcus and Addie’s mother was not the grandmotherly type.
It was hard to believe Addie was Solange’s daughter.
Addie was not unattractive by any means, but she didn’t have the stop-the-clock features and figure of her mother.
Her quieter beauty and personality were strangely soothing to be around.
The first time he met her he had been shocked at how different she was from her mother.
Shocked in a nice way, that was. Solange was over-the-top in everything she did—how she looked, how she acted, how she made sure she was the centre of attention.
But Addie was nothing like that. She was so reserved and buttoned-up and yet he couldn’t help noticing the way she revealed things about herself in a touchingly unguarded way.
He suspected he intimidated her, which was certainly not his intention, but then many people found him intimidating.
He didn’t apologise for it. He made no allowances for it.
He wouldn’t have achieved the things he had achieved without being a little ruthless and hard-headed at times.
But Addie’s lack of artifice and guile was refreshing, a change from the artfully sophisticated women he bedded on a regular basis.
Not that he was going to bed Addie, of course.
That would be crossing a line he did not intend to cross.
She was his friend’s little sister. Forbidden.
Off limits. Not on his radar. Not his type.
And yet…something about her intrigued him, made him keen to know more about her.
Like why she was so understated about her appearance, why she seemed so determined to melt into the background rather than be noticed.
But he had noticed.
He had to keep his head buried in his paperwork to stop himself studying her elfin features, to stop himself staring at the sweet contour of her full-lipped mouth, the gentle slopes of her cheeks and her retroussé nose with its sprinkling of freckles like nutmeg on a dessert.
Yes, he had noticed her, but it didn’t mean he was going to do anything.
Addie Featherstone was forbidden. Tempting, alluring, intriguing but forbidden.