Читать книгу Modern Romance January Books 5-8 - Heidi Rice - Страница 18

‘WE NEED TO make even more tomorrow, but I honestly don’t know how we can.’ Francesca locked the door and slumped back against it.

They’d sold out at the pasticceria before lunchtime, even though Gracie had made a third more pastries than usual.

‘I know,’ Gracie groaned. ‘I’m going to have to start even earlier.’

Despite her tiredness, having to bake round the clock had been the best thing about these last few days. She’d had no time to dwell on he whom she refused to remember. Rafe certainly hadn’t been into the bakery again, and now Alex was well enough to tend the roses, Gracie had stayed away from the villa.

‘It’ was definitely ‘over’, and that was just fine; she was choosing to think about something else. Anything else. Such as making pastries. Hundreds and hundreds of pastries. She’d been testing new products daily—to Francesca’s delight. So the sleeplessness was worth it.

‘I have news.’ Francesca walked towards the counter.

‘Good news?’ Gracie looked up from wiping down the cabinets. She needed as much distraction as possible.

‘Catering news.’ An awkward look crossed Francesca’s face. ‘A potential client wants to talk to you about an upcoming event.’

‘When does she want to meet us?’ Gracie paused and looked more intently at Francesca. Why was she looking guilty?

‘This afternoon. He’s requested you specifically. If we do well, it could open all kinds of doors given who’s likely to be on the guest list.’

A sense of foreboding slithered down Gracie’s spine. ‘Who’s he?’

‘Rafael Vitale. The new owner of the Villa Rosetta. He wants us to cater his upcoming house-warming.’

Grace’s heart thundered so loudly she put her hand to her chest to make sure her ribs could contain it. ‘He’s having a house-warming party?’

‘A big one.’ Francesca nodded. ‘He said it would be better to communicate his needs in English with you.’

His needs? Four days and he’d suddenly realised he had needs?

A shadow crossed Francesca’s face, dimming her excited glow. ‘Are you sure you want to go? I can go with you if—’

‘It’s fine. No problem.’ Gracie saw Francesca was torn about asking this of her. Rafael was in the wrong for putting her friend in this position—and he was going to hear about it. ‘You need to be here to get ready for tonight anyway.’

‘You’re sure? Fantastic. You’re to meet him at the villa at four o’clock. He said you already know the security code to get in.’ The interest in Francesca’s gaze was barely veiled now.

‘Yes, I know the code.’ Gracie straightened and shot her boss a smile and lied for the first time in years. ‘I’ll handle him, no problem at all.’

At precisely four o’clock Gracie pressed the security code and the gate swung open. Once more she walked up the stunning driveway. His too-flash, too-fast car was parked in the driveway. Rafael Vitale was standing by the shimmering pool. Tall, dark and wet. He’d been swimming. Which meant he was barely dressed. He was all muscles and hotness. Gracie shot him a sharp look, but it simply bounced off his brazenly smug smile. The guy had done it deliberately.

Her pulse still thundered annoyingly loud in her ears, hindering her chances of actually thinking. But she was going to try. ‘I hear you need more pastries for your insatiable models?’

‘That’s right.’ His smile widened.

‘For a house-warming party?’

He spread his hands. ‘I’ve been told this would make a lovely home, rather than a luxury holiday retreat, so I thought I’d see how it felt to live in it a little.’

‘And that’s your definition of living a little? Partying with pretty people?’

‘Doesn’t that match your definition?’ he asked, brushing his wet hair back from his forehead and certifying his fallen angel’s physique status. ‘Of course not, you want to bury yourself in a sleepy little village with a bunch of octogenarians.’

Oh—he was going there? She drew in a careful breath because he was attacking all her senses. ‘The village is hardly sleepy. It’s full of tourists and easy-come, easy-go possibilities,’ she muttered meaningfully. ‘Lots and lots of tourists.’

His eyes narrowed. ‘You think you’ve mastered that art now?’

She shrugged, but inside her pulse was thrumming unevenly. He had such an impact on her. Why couldn’t the man put on clothes? ‘Do you always turn up to business meetings in your swimsuit?’

‘It’s a hot day.’

But he’d known she was about to arrive and he’d dressed down deliberately. Whereas she’d dressed up. Wearing trousers had totally been the right call.

His smile was too bland given the sharpness of his eyes. ‘I’m a wealthy potential client, isn’t it your job to accommodate my eccentricities?’

She stared at him slack-jawed for a moment. ‘And isn’t it your job to behave like a decent human being and not use your...attributes to swing an advantage?’

‘My attributes?’ He echoed oh-so-innocently. ‘I was hot.’

Yeah, he was always hot. She glared at him.

Eyes glinting, he slowly reached for a towel and wrapped it around his waist. ‘Better?’

No, it wasn’t any better. Somehow he looked even sexier. ‘You don’t play fair.’

At that satisfied expression on his face she mentally kicked herself. She needed to stop saying whatever was in her head when she was around him. Because it was always going to be inappropriate.

‘I play to win.’ He stepped closer. ‘There are going to be a lot of people at the party,’ he said temptingly. ‘Lots of potential catering customers. Wealthy ones. Lots of good publicity with all those selfie-addict models and their social media circuses. You know they always love to snap beautiful food.’

‘You’re trying to bribe me.’

‘You already knew I’m not a decent guy,’ he said huskily. ‘Why don’t you come inside the villa to discuss arrangements? I can show you the facilities.’

‘I believe I’ve already seen the facilities,’ she muttered, unable to resist playing on the double entendre sparking between them.

‘Only briefly. I’m pretty sure I can give you a better understanding of what’s available for you to use here.’

‘For me to use...’ She trailed off.

The wicked temptation in his eyes was too much. He knew exactly what effect he had on her. She could only hope she had even the smallest similar effect on him.

‘It’s too hot to stand outside,’ he murmured coolly. ‘You never know what madness might ensue if we stay out here too long.’

Well, that was certainly true. Awareness shot through her. It was what he wanted—she did indeed have the same effect on him. Her blood quickened but she wasn’t going to make it that easy for him. Not this time.

She marched ahead, into the villa, pulling out her phone to take down details. ‘How many guests are going to be at your housewarming?’ She could be professional.

‘Between fifty and seventy.’

‘Quite the party.’

‘Neighbours, work associates, friends...’

Lovers? She refused to ask. ‘People you would like to impress?’

‘People I’d like to feed,’ he replied in a bored tone, following her into the kitchen. ‘I take my responsibilities as a host very seriously. I’d like to meet the needs of all my guests.’ He paused, leaning forward and putting his hands on the back of one of the chairs. ‘I wouldn’t want to leave anyone feeling hungry.’

‘Hungry, huh?’ Gracie gave up on the polite sham and tossed her phone onto the table, facing that blaze in his eyes. ‘You used this as an excuse to get me here alone.’

‘Yes.’

‘Putting both me and my employer in a difficult position—you don’t feel any remorse about that?’

‘I like to get what I want.’ He regarded her steadily. ‘I generally do whatever it takes to get it.’

Playing dirty. Breaking the rules.

‘You didn’t think you could just ask for what you wanted?’

He stared at her for a second and then smiled reluctantly. ‘I didn’t want to risk you saying no again.’

She frowned.

‘You were so eager to leave the other day, you didn’t look back,’ he elaborated.

‘Wait. Do you think you asked me to stay?’ She thought back to the other morning when she’d escaped as quickly as she could. She’d thought that was what he’d wanted—no sticky, awkward goodbye. But her swift departure had bothered him? She couldn’t hold back a small smile. ‘You told me you didn’t want me to go. You never asked me to stay.’

His eyes narrowed ever so slightly.

‘So you thought that once you’d got me here, you could convince me in person?’ she asked.

‘I thought it might help if I was mostly naked but that idea seems to have backfired.’

She noticed his grip on the back of the chair. His knuckles were white and his breathing, while even, was a little too quick. A trickle of power flowed through her veins. This was good, because he was too mesmerising and held too much of her attention.

‘You’ve been away.’ She made herself breathe.

‘Yes. On business.’

She stepped closer. ‘But you went to a party. In Paris.’

His eyes widened but he remained abnormally still. ‘How do you know that?’

‘There were pictures.’

‘You searched for me on the Internet?’ A teasing—smug—smile flashed on his perfect face. ‘You set up an alert for me?’

‘I didn’t need to,’ she informed him loftily. ‘The village has been keeping an eye on what you’ve been up to and no less than three customers took the time to show me that picture of you with that model.’

‘How kind. You must be so pleased with your decision to live in a small town where everyone knows everything about everyone.’

‘I’m not ashamed. I don’t mind them knowing I spent time with you. I’ll never regret what happened between us.’ She kept her head high. Never was she going to be embarrassed about that.

‘But?’ he prompted softly.

‘I’m not going to be your booty call. You can’t just have me when you’re home.’

‘This isn’t my home,’ he said calmly. ‘And that’s not what I want either.’

She waited for him to explain.

He sighed. ‘I was wrong about one night.’

‘Oh?’

‘Gracie.’ He shook his head. ‘You said you didn’t play games. You said you’d be honest.’

And she had been. ‘You said you never wanted more than just sex.’

‘And I’m still saying that. It’s just that I want more than one night.’ He drew in a breath. ‘I don’t want to resist you. You’re all I can think about.’

It had been that good for him too? She bit her lip to stop herself smiling in a smug Rafe-like fashion. ‘Yet you ran away.’ She couldn’t help teasing him softly. ‘You left Italy. And it wasn’t for work.’

‘I thought it might help. It didn’t.’

Goosebumps rippled over her skin. She was shockingly, pleasurably aware of his intensity.

‘You left the country to escape me.’ She took another step closer. ‘I don’t know whether to be insulted or flattered.’

‘Flattered,’ he growled. ‘And you missed me. You know you did. I saw it in your face the second you saw me again. I see it in the way you’re looking at me now. Don’t even try to lie.’

‘You know I’m not going to,’ she said simply, and stopped still. ‘But we also both know this shouldn’t happen again.’

‘Why?’

‘We want different things. You don’t want a relationship.’

‘Why does this have to be a relationship? You’re inexperienced. Why not get some?’

‘Experience?’ she echoed innocently.

‘There is so much you haven’t done, Gracie.’ The promise in his eyes was unmistakable. ‘You wanted that wildness in amongst the precious. Why not just live in the moment?’

‘Are you coming over all mindful?’ She chuckled, her gaze dropping to his knuckles again. Heat stole over her as she registered just how tense he was.

‘Don’t make this into anything more than what it is,’ he said with that roughness again. ‘That is your inexperience showing.’

‘But if it isn’t anything all that, why did you have to leave?’

He closed his eyes briefly, huffing out a strangled laugh at the same time. ‘Because it’s strong. And in my experience, that’s rare. I want you. I can’t think of anything else.’

She knew that problem. The frustration. The desire that was inexorably drawing her closer now that he was back. And she saw the resistance within him. He was holding back—not touching her. Not letting his natural dominance be unleashed.

‘Please, Gracie.’ He was asking nicely and she was lost.

Slowly she walked closer. ‘Who was the woman in Paris?’

‘Isabella. I’ve known her since college. She’s in a long-term relationship. We’ve never been lovers.’

Wow, so much information from one question. ‘Did you want to be?’

He shook his head. ‘She’s not my type.’

A model who wasn’t his type?

‘I’m not a walking hormone, Gracie.’ He glared at her. ‘I don’t want every woman I meet. Right now you’re the only woman I want.’

She was hit by another rush of primal satisfaction. It served only to melt the last of her rational resistance. ‘If we do this again, we’re exclusive. I won’t tolerate you sleeping with anyone else while you’re doing that with me.’

‘Doing “that”?’ He half laughed. ‘I’m insulted you’d think I would. I might’ve had a lot of lovers, but only ever one at a time. And when we’re over, you’ll be the first to know. For the record, I never use the next woman to end my relationship with the previous one. Don’t you use another man against me either. Not even a seventy-year-old.’

She smiled. ‘Alex is my friend and he cares about me. That’s different.’

She walked the last few steps and knelt up on the chair right in front of him. His knuckles whitened.

‘Gracie,’ he groaned, and leaned closer. ‘This isn’t going to be only one night again. It’s going to take more than that.’

‘What happened to short time frames?’

‘You want this,’ he whispered, not answering her question. ‘You want me.’

He was right. She’d been unable to think about anything else in these last few days. He’d completely dominated her thoughts. She couldn’t even enjoy Alex’s roses without thinking of him now.

‘Absolutely,’ she admitted. ‘I adore you.’

‘Adore?’ He cocked his head like he wasn’t sure what he was hearing.

‘Don’t panic.’ She laughed weakly. ‘It’s just a phase. Like a crush. It’ll pass and I’ll get over it.’

He breathed out. ‘You’ll get over it more quickly if we let it run its course. The more we try to ignore it, the worse it’s going to become.’

‘I don’t think it can get much worse,’ she whispered.

He kissed her. His hands lifted. Somehow she was on that big kitchen table and she was soaring with every sweep of his tongue.

‘Why are you wearing trousers?’ he muttered thickly.

‘I didn’t trust myself. I thought it might slow things down. I regret it now.’

He laughed and slid his hand beneath the waistband of her trousers. He drew in a deep breath. ‘You’re not ready for slow, Gracie.’

‘No.’ She arched breathlessly as he played her. ‘I’m not.’

So not slow.

When she could think again, she reached up to touch him, but he grabbed her wrists and held them from him. ‘Stay the night with me.’ He smiled winningly. ‘I’m asking nicely.’

‘While holding me captive,’ she teased.

He released her but stayed too close for her to think straight.

‘You’re saying no?’ he asked.

She sat up and trailed her fingers down his chest and then grabbed his lean hips. ‘Maybe we could do something more before I leave.’

He cupped her face gently. Too gently—it made her heart race unevenly.

‘Why do you have to leave?’ he asked. ‘Life is precious, right? Why can’t we be wicked and wild all night?’

She looked into his eyes and saw unspent passion blazing. Her bones trembled. He made her feel so good but this was more intense than she’d expected—which ought to have been impossible given what had happened between them the other day. She shouldn’t stay, she felt a vulnerability curling within. ‘I have an early start tomorrow.’

‘Call in sick tomorrow,’ he dared. ‘Spend the day with me. All night. All day.’

He was joking but it was actually so tempting she got angry with herself—but turned it on him. ‘You want me to ditch all my commitments? To drop everything else in my life to meet your sexual needs?’

‘Not just my needs,’ he pointed out, purposefully kissing her neck, apparently already confident of her surrender. ‘You want this too.’

‘I can’t. I have to go,’ she pleaded, but couldn’t help tilting her head to let him have greater access. ‘I can’t let Francesca down. I have work. I can’t just not show up.’

‘Move in with me,’ he said in a low voice. ‘I’ll work from here for a while and then we’ll have all night, every night. At the weekends, you’re mine. You do get weekends off, don’t you?’

She was too busy trying to process his first words to be able to answer that last question. ‘You want me to move in with you?’

He eased back and looked into her eyes. ‘Briefly.’

She half laughed, her suddenly strung-out nerves getting the better of her. ‘Well done on the clarification. Wouldn’t want me getting the wrong idea.’

She so didn’t want to get the wrong idea about this. But she couldn’t believe what he’d just asked.

He grinned. ‘I’ve been reliably informed honesty is the best policy.’

‘Been talking to someone wise?’ She desperately tried to maintain the teasing, but tension knotted her stomach. Staying with him—even briefly—was an alarmingly appealing idea and she instinctively shied from its strength.

‘Someone with a smart mouth.’

He was joking. Surely. She tried to focus on all the practical reasons why she should say no. ‘I start work very, very early.’ And cycling from the villa would mean she’d have to wake even earlier.

‘I’ll drop you there. I’ll have slept better with you beside me.’

Her innards melted at the thought of sleeping beside him night after night, of cuddling and curling close. Of being that intimate with him.

‘Because it’s still all about you,’ she tried to joke, tried to stall, tried to steady her trembling slide towards his too-enticing invitation.

But there was a glint of outrageousness in his eyes and she just couldn’t help warming like wax in his hands.

‘Stay. I promise to make it worth your while.’ He kissed her.

Oh, she didn’t doubt it. What she doubted was her ability to leave again as ‘easily’ as she’d left the other day. Because that had been so difficult she’d had to run as quickly as she could. And she knew the more time she spent here, the harder it would become to leave again. It wasn’t the villa and all its luxuries that posed the problem, but him. He was magnetic and his power over her only increased with exposure.

But she wanted him. She ached for his touch, his company. Her eyes closed as he kissed her again.

She should say no. She should just have the sex she’d said she wanted and escape. But her brain shorted out, refusing to process anything other than the delicious sensations he was pulling from every cell within her. The man knew how to make love. He knew how to make her want more. He knew how to make her say yes. Over and over again.

And that was terrible, because if he kept this up, she’d say yes to everything. And he didn’t want everything, he only wanted this. Only now.

‘You’re incorrigible,’ she admonished breathlessly.

‘But I’m right.’

She quivered. It was more than his touch that tormented her, more than his sensuality and striking looks—it was his interest in all of her, his ability to fascinate her, his ability to make her laugh. If this were just sex, it would be easy. But it was all of him. She liked him, so much that she was in danger...but because he was all that, he was impossible to deny. She couldn’t deny herself.

She sighed, her defences crumbling. ‘Okay.’

‘Okay? Just like that?’ he teased.

Just like that? A helpless little laugh escaped.

‘I’m hoping to get sick of you,’ she admitted frankly, opening her eyes. ‘Perhaps the more time I spend with you, the sooner that will happen.’ She could only dream, right? ‘And I can practise making some of the pastries in your oven if I stay.’

His mouth opened and then closed. Then opened again. ‘You want to practise using my oven? That’s why you want to stay?’

‘It’s one of the reasons.’ She hid a smile. She’d got a tiny hit on him when he constantly overwhelmed her so completely. ‘But I’m not cooking dinner for you,’ she clarified, establishing a smidgeon of assertiveness. ‘You’re not getting a housekeeper as well as a bedmate.’

‘If I wanted a housekeeper, I’d hire one.’ He planted a kiss on her nose. ‘I’m capable of cooking both for me and for you.’

‘Is that so?’

‘I enjoy eating so, yes, that’s so,’ he mocked, moving his kisses across her cheek. ‘I’ll cook for you, seeing as you’re going to be my guest for a little while.’

A little while, right. His guest. Not his girlfriend or his live-in lover. She accepted this for what it was, a short-term fling and a risk she was going to make the most of. She’d keep it an indulgence for herself. She’d keep it calm.

‘Perfect.’ She ran her hand up his chest and pretended this wasn’t all that perilous, pretended her heart wasn’t pounding louder than a rocket launch.

But he stopped kissing her, pulling away to look into her eyes.

‘What?’ she queried breathlessly, poised right over the precipice.

‘I hadn’t expected you to agree so easily. I’ve been dreaming up other ways to convince you.’

‘Oh.’ She burned the last of her nerves in the bonfire of sensual anticipation and embraced the humour that bubbled so easily between them. ‘Well, we can’t let those ideas go to waste. I’ve changed my mind. Convince me to stay some more.’

‘Too late,’ he breathed, and pulled her to the edge of the table, a ferociously intense look in his eye. ‘You’re mine now.’