Читать книгу Lessons in Rule-Breaking - Christy McKellen - Страница 9

TWO

Twenty-four hours later Jess stared out of the windscreen of her hire car in wonder as the incredible scenery around Lake Garda flew by.

Pamela had been bemused at first by Jess’s assertions that she would get a great exclusive out of Xander if she followed him all the way to Italy for the interview, but in the end she’d agreed to let Jess go if she stumped up for the flight and accommodation herself. She was also to visit some of the towns that bordered the lake and write some short ‘Best Places to Holiday in Northern Italy’ pieces for the travel section while she was there. The magazine didn’t have the resources to send their staffers off to ‘just swan around the Italian Lakes,’ or so Pamela claimed.

Jess had taken it on the chin and booked herself onto the cheapest flight she could find the next day and found a room in a rather dubious-looking two-star hotel, which was the only place available on Lake Garda at short notice that didn’t cost more per day than the rent on her flat for the entire month.

The memory of Xander’s challenging look when he’d asked her to come to Italy made her insides twist and swoop. In that moment before responding, she’d thought about what Pamela had said about how she needed to live a little to become a better writer, and how much she wanted to keep her hard-fought-for job at the magazine, and despite hating the idea of sitting for a picture for him—frankly it was her idea of hell to be scrutinised from all angles by a man who made her feel so unsettled—she found herself agreeing to it if it meant he’d give her what she wanted. Strike that, what she needed.

No way was she going to let this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity slip away from her.

Before she’d left, Pam had pulled her to one side and reminded her that Xander was notoriously difficult to interview and that she should try and stay objective. She didn’t say the words, ‘Don’t let him twist you round his finger and into his bed’, but they were very much implied.

Jess had smiled to herself; as if that were ever likely to happen. Flings were not her thing and definitely not with men like Xander.

She had more sense than that.

As the villa where Xander was staying swung into view she took a deep breath to quell a disorientating surge of jittery excitement as she took in the sight of immaculately landscaped gardens and the imposing seventeenth-century building that resided like a noble queen over spectacular views of Lake Garda.

She’d never seen anything so perfectly picturesque in her life.

She could barely believe she was here to spend a couple of days hanging out with Xander Heaton, disgustingly talented artist, womaniser and undisputable contender for sexiest man alive.

Glancing down at the neat, but unfussy, trouser suit she’d put on for travelling, she acknowledged with a sinking feeling that she was not going to feel comfortable in his world.

Still, she was determined to make the most of the time she had with him. She just needed to hold her nerve and not let him intimidate her.

Ah, hell, who was she kidding? She was going to be a wreck from beginning to end. The trick was not to let him see it.

She drove up to the front of a long sweep of sandy-coloured stone steps and parked up. Swinging the door open, she got out and stretched her back, which ached like hell after being cramped up for hours, first on the plane, then in the car as she’d swung it through the Italian countryside.

Looking up at the magnificence of the building, she felt another sting of insignificance.

Get it together, Jess, you have nothing to feel humbled about.

The door to the villa opened and a handsome middle-aged woman in a beautifully cut shift dress appeared. Her long swathe of dark hair swung across her back as she walked down the steps towards where Jess was standing.

‘Ms LaFayette?’ she asked, holding out a welcoming hand.

Jess shook it. ‘Call me Jess,’ she said, giving the woman a friendly smile back.

‘I’m Rosa. I’m the housekeeper here. If you need anything during your stay please let me know.’

Jess stared at her, confused. ‘Oh, I’m not staying here. I’ve booked a room in a hotel down the road. The Royal, I think it’s called.’

Rosa frowned, looking flustered. ‘Oh, my mistake. Well, I hope they give you a good room there.’ The uncertainty in Rosa’s voice made something pinch in Jess’s chest. Did The Royal have a bad reputation?

Ah, whatever. She was only going to be staying for two nights, so it wouldn’t matter, and it was all she could afford anyway. This wasn’t a holiday, she reminded herself, it was an assignment. The first of many more, she hoped—once she’d blown Pamela away with her fun, but insightful, piece on Xander.

Another thought struck her. Had Xander given the impression she was here for more than just business? Or had Rosa just assumed she was because of his track record?

Shaking off the unnerving tingle deep in her pelvis at the thought of getting up close and personal with Xander, she smoothed down a wrinkle in the sleeve of her jacket with shaking fingers. She should really take the thing off, it was already making her hot in the intense heat of the afternoon, but she wanted to stay formal and professional to remind him she was here as a serious journalist and not someone to be toyed with. There would be no flirting and manipulating the situation by Xander.

Control, Jess, cool, calm control.

‘Is Xander around?’ Jess asked, determined to get this interview under way as soon as possible. Pamela had only given her a week to get the article written. They were going with a Great Artists of the Twenty-First Century theme and Xander’s interview was going to be the showcase piece, so it had to be good. If she didn’t manage to produce something whiz-bang enough Pam had suggested she’d have to pass on Jess’s notes to Maggie and have her write the article instead.

No way was Jess going to let that happen. This was her big opportunity to prove to Pamela she was the right fit for Spark.

She just needed to get Xander to trust her enough to open up and talk.

Rosa nodded. ‘He’s down at the villa’s private beach. Just follow the path over there to the lake.’ She pointed in the direction she meant.

Jess thanked her and set off to the beach, pulling the hem of her blouse down where it had ridden up over her middle and swiping a rather damp hand over her hair.

The path took her through a small grove of sweet-smelling olive trees and opened up onto a small, sandy cove with spectacular views across to the other side of the lake.

There was no sign of Xander at first, but as she looked around she noticed a movement in the clear, still water of the lake.

Jess came to an abrupt halt as Xander stood up from where he’d been swimming, gleaming rivulets of water running down from his hair and cascading over his naked chest. She watched, mesmerised, as he waded towards her, his movements agile and smooth as he powered through the water.

He glanced up and saw her standing there, tipping her a mischievous grin and giving her a welcoming salute.

‘Jess, good to see you.’

She watched him advance towards her, rooted to the spot and with an unnerving pulse beating in her throat.

His golden skin gleamed in the bright afternoon light, the gentle rays highlighting every contour of his solid frame, and as he pushed his wet hair back from his angular face, making the muscles of his chest twist and flex, she had to suppress a squeak of pure delight. There was unbridled power in his stride, as he quickly covered the ground between them, that made her insides jump and twist with pleasure.

Scuffing her toes into the sand, she gave herself a lecture on the evils of letting her overactive imagination get the better of her.

‘Hey,’ Xander said, when he finally reached her, flashing her a grin that made her stomach lurch with lust. Drops of water clung to his eyelashes, making them look obscenely long and lush as they framed those incredible eyes of his.

Jess swallowed, trying to loosen up her throat, which was tight with tension. Shaking her nerves off before they took too firm a hold, she reminded herself that she was here to work, and that was what she was damn well going to do.

‘H-hello. This place is beautiful,’ she managed to stutter out, cursing the shake in her voice. She was having immense trouble keeping her gaze on his face and not allowing it to drop to the incredible physique of his chest.

‘It’s a friend’s holiday home. Pretty impressive, huh?’

‘Yup. Impressive.’ It seemed she was totally out of intelligent conversation. Not a great start for someone who was supposed to be a wordsmith for a living.

‘I’m heading back up to the villa for tea and cake. Rosa makes the best summer panettone. Come and join me.’ It wasn’t a question and she bristled a little at his bossy tone.

‘I’m not hungry. I had a late lunch.’

He gave her a slow, sexually laden smile that made her stomach swoop alarmingly. ‘Well, I’m hungry.’

The gentle breeze caught her hair and blew it across her suddenly incredibly hot face. Before she could react, he took a step towards her, lifted his hand and slid his long fingers against her cheek, then tucked the rogue curl of hair behind her ear. It was such an intimate thing to do she was utterly lost for words, and, instead of speaking, she found herself staring at his mouth, totally transfixed by the fullness of his lips as they parted slightly, revealing his perfect white teeth. The heat of his almost naked body bled into her skin and she took a deep, calming breath in, only to draw the musky fragrance of his skin into her nostrils, sending her senses spinning out of control.

Every bit of her body felt energised and tingly—the anticipation of what could happen if he just leant forward a couple of inches burning like wildfire in her chest. Was he going to...?

Kiss me.

She wasn’t sure for a second whether she’d said it out loud and she skimmed her gaze up to look into his eyes, hoping desperately it had only been an errant voice in her head.

His gaze flicked between her eyes, the bright aqua of his irises captivating her with their other-worldliness.

What the hell was going on here? A nervy panic rose inside her, causing a wave of jittery heat to rush up her neck. She couldn’t handle this. Not here, in broad daylight, totally unprepared for what might happen if he kept on looking at her like that.

Xander must have sensed her panic because he took a step away from her, giving her the space and air she suddenly craved.

‘You okay, Jess?’ he said, bemused concern clear in his voice.

‘Fine. I’m fine,’ she managed to gasp, forcing a smile onto her face. ‘Just a bit hot in the sun.’ She flapped a hand in front of her face in a pathetic attempt to cool herself down. ‘I have to go and check in to my hotel but I wanted to let you know I’d arrived. I’d like to make a plan for starting the interview so we can get started as soon as possible.’ She kept her voice clipped and businesslike, trying like mad to pull back the professional persona she’d been so keen to promote.

‘How very diligent of you. Well, to be honest, I’m not in the mood for spilling my deepest, darkest secrets right now.’ He took a step closer to her and dipped his head, his gaze capturing hers as something dangerous flashed in his eyes. ‘I’d like to get to know you a bit more intimately first.’

‘I’m not going to sleep with you,’ she blurted out before she could stop herself, her nerves riding roughshod over her common sense.

He laughed out loud, shaking his head in mirth.

Jess just stood there dumbly, flushing hot with embarrassment.

What an idiot she was. Of course he wasn’t talking about sleeping with her. She very clearly wasn’t his type if the media reports of his affairs were anything to go by. From what she’d seen in the press—and at his studio—he was more of a leggy-blonde type of guy.

And that suited her just fine. Absolutely fine. Couldn’t be finer.

‘Don’t worry, I’m taking a break from seducing innocent young journalists, so your virtue is safe with me,’ he joked, his mouth quirked in a playful smile. ‘I am interested in your body, Jess, but only on an artistic level.’

Jess pulled her arms across her chest. ‘You can’t blame me for being wary when you make provocative-sounding statements like that. You do have a reputation for being a bit...’

‘A bit what?’

She paused, searching for the right word. ‘Wild.’

He gave her a bemused grin. ‘I promise to be on my best behaviour,’ he said, making a crossing motion over his heart. ‘And if I slip up you have my permission to lick me into shape.’

Oh, my God, the images he’d just conjured in her mind.

She really needed to get out of here before she totally lost her cool.

‘Come over for dinner tonight at eight,’ he continued, going over to a rock where he’d left his towel and swiping it along his long, lean arms, ‘and we can get better acquainted.’

He flashed her one last beguiling smile before turning and walking away up the path, the bright drops of lake water that still clung to his broad back shimmering in the sunlight.

An overwhelming urge to pack up and go home, where she didn’t have to deal with these weird and disturbing feelings he provoked in her, besieged her. But she wasn’t going to leave. She was determined to keep her job at the magazine, no matter what it took. She was going to brazen it out here and ignore the blatant innuendos he seemed so keen to tease her into a jittery mess with.

He was a player all right, but she wasn’t about to let him play her.

* * *

In total contrast to the villa where Xander was staying, her hotel was the most run-down, sleazy-looking pit Jess had ever had the misfortune to set eyes on. She could have sworn she saw a rat run around the corner of the building as she parked her hire car in the tiny, litter-strewn parking lot. The thought of it made her shudder. She wasn’t good with rodents. Or spiders. Or any type of insect if she was totally honest.

It looked as if they were doing building works on the place, too, judging by the mess of rubble and steel piled haphazardly against the peeling walls of the hotel, but there didn’t seem to be anyone doing any actual work out there. Jess prayed she wasn’t going to be woken up in the early hours by workmen banging the hell out of the wall next to her head.

A disgruntled receptionist with long, lank hair and a sweat-stained blouse checked her in and handed over her key, motioning her to walk through the rather run-down reception to a door on the ground floor, next to what appeared to be a kitchen.

The Ritz it was not.

Her room wasn’t in a much better state than the reception, but at least it had a decent-sized bed and its own en-suite bathroom—even if she did have to turn sideways when in it to get the door closed.

Okay, well, it was all she needed. She was only going to put up with it for two nights. Surely it wouldn’t take longer than that to get enough info to write a decent piece on Xander?

Kicking off her shoes, she flopped down onto the bed, ignoring the unnerving sway of the bed frame, and pulled her mobile out of her back pocket. Time to do some more research on the man himself.

She’d already had a cursory look through the search engines for his name, but not much of any use had come up, mostly gossip pieces about the women he’d dated and the parties he’d made a scene at. In fact he seemed to have been in a constant state of drunken debauchery for an entire year. There were a handful of articles about his last couple of exhibitions as she trawled lower, though, the last of which had been a bit of a critical flop, as Pam had mentioned.

She wondered how his colossal ego had dealt with that. Judging by the press reports on him between now and then, not very well. He’d become belligerent and withdrawn with the press and, instead of producing more work to shut his critics up, he’d thrown himself into partying and womanising instead. In fact he didn’t seem to have produced a single thing since that exhibition.

Interesting.

It was a soothing distraction focusing on work after the nerve-jangling meeting with Xander and her eyelids grew heavy as she relaxed into the soft mattress. Perhaps she could get forty winks in now to power herself up before having dinner with Xander tonight? She wanted to be at her sharpest when she faced him again. She had a sneaking suspicion he was deliberately trying to unsettle her so he could avoid having to answer any of her probing questions.

If he thought it was going to be that easy to get around her he had another think coming.

A loud scuttling sound—which seemed to be emanating from under the bed—made her sit bolt upright in alarm.

What the hell was that?

Out of the corner of her eye she thought she saw something dart from under the bed and disappear behind the vanity unit on the other side of the room.

Goosebumps pricked her skin as all the hairs on her body stood up as one in disgust. Ugh! Bugs! Quite possibly cockroaches.

Her spirits sank to the floor. How was she supposed to sleep with large indeterminate creatures running around under her bed?

Taking care not to step on any of the little blighters, she dashed out of the room and back over to the reception and tried to persuade the woman to move her into a different room.

Denied.

It appeared—incredibly—that the hotel was fully booked.

Jess sighed and went back to her room, feeling frustrated and discombobulated. She couldn’t afford to move out of this hovel—her savings wouldn’t stand it—and she wasn’t about to leave, not when the fate of her career was in the balance.

She was just going to have to grit her teeth and suck it up.