Читать книгу The Italians: Rico, Antonio and Giovanni: The Hidden Heart of Rico Rossi / The Moretti Seduction / The Boselli Bride - Kate Hardy - Страница 9

BACK at the hotel, Rico saw Ella into Reception, and then went through the back into his office. His PA was tidying her desk, clearly just about to leave for the evening. ‘Lina, I know it’s late and I’ve given you absolutely no notice, but can you clear my diary for the next three days?’ he asked.

‘Of course. Is something wrong? Your grandfather’s ill?’ she asked, looking concerned.

‘No, he’s fine.’

‘Your father?’

No, and Rico certainly wouldn’t drop everything to rush to his father’s bedside. He was well aware that Lina knew it, too; she’d worked for the Rossi chain for longer than he had, long enough to know exactly why Rico had no time for his parents and never would. ‘I’m just taking some time off.’

She blinked. ‘Are you ill?’

‘Very funny.’ He glowered at her briefly. ‘I’m not that driven.’

‘Actually, you are, Rico.’ She patted his arm to soften her words. ‘Look, nobody’s going to be around at this time of the afternoon, so there’s no point in making any calls now. I’ll deal with it first thing tomorrow and move all your meetings.’

‘Thank you. I’ll have my mobile with me if you need to get in touch. Text or voicemail, that is,’ he added.

‘I’m not going to call you. It’ll do you good to have a break.’ She paused. ‘So are you going anywhere special?’

‘Maybe.’

She gave him a wry smile. ‘I should know better than to ask you a personal question.’

He grimaced. ‘Sorry. I don’t mean to be rude.’

‘But everything personal is off limits. I know.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘Tell me again why I put up with you?’

‘Must be my charm,’ he teased back. Then he grew serious again. ‘Thank you, Lina. I do appreciate you.’

‘I know you do, tesoro. It’s why I put up with all your impossible demands.’ But she was smiling. ‘Go and have some fun.’

‘I will.’ His step already felt lighter. Which was crazy. There wasn’t any future in this; Ella Chandler was a tourist, only here for a couple of days. But maybe, just maybe, Lina was right. Having a little fun in his life would do him good.

Rico left his office and headed for the butcher’s. It had been a long time since he’d last gone shopping, and it felt odd to be so domesticated. He came home via the greengrocer’s, the baker’s and the deli; then rolled up his sleeves and began preparing dinner, humming to himself as he worked.

What did you wear for dinner in Rome? Ella wondered. She’d expected to find a little trattoria somewhere and just watch the crowds as she ate, or maybe study the more detailed guidebook to Rome she’d brought with her. She’d packed a pretty, floaty summer dress at the last minute; hopefully that would be smart enough, especially if she put her hair up. She knew it wouldn’t be smart enough if Rico took her somewhere seriously posh; then again, he knew the city better than most, so he was more likely to take her to a small, out-of-the-way place with amazing food and where it didn’t really matter what you wore.

At precisely eight o’clock, there was a knock on her door.

She opened it, and he smiled at her. ‘Ella, bellezza. You look lovely.’

He was wearing a different white shirt, this time teamed with faded jeans; he looked utterly gorgeous and her heart skipped a beat.

Reminding herself that this was just dinner, she asked brightly, ‘So where are we going?’

‘I thought I’d cook for you.’

She blinked. ‘You cook?’

He shrugged. ‘It’s not that difficult.’

True. Though Michael had never cooked. He’d always left it to her. And she’d been fool enough to let him get away with it.

‘You have a very expressive face,’ Rico said. ‘It looks to me as if you’ve been dating the wrong kind of man.’

He could say that again. ‘Perhaps,’ she said. This definitely wasn’t the time or the place to moan about her ex. ‘But I’m over him.’ And she was following the old saying to the letter: the best revenge was living well. Thanks to her lottery win, she was going to follow every single dream she’d ever had. Ones that Michael most definitely wouldn’t have shared.

Rico took her to the end of a corridor, then tapped numbers into a small, discreet keypad to open the door. She followed him up the stairs and they ended up in the most enchanting roof garden she’d ever seen. There were tiny fairy lights twined through the greenery, and one corner was draped in wisteria.

‘Oh, this is beautiful,’ she said in delight.

He looked pleased. ‘I’m glad you like it.’

There was a table laid for two in the centre of the garden, with a candle on the table and wine chilling in an ice bucket. And she had the clearest view of the Colosseum, with the three lowest tiers lit from the inside and the moon rising above it. ‘This is just amazing. Is this your place?’

Yes. But, if he told her that, then she’d know he’d been economical with the truth about being a tour guide. And he liked the fact that she was responding to him as a man, not as the head of the hotel chain; he still wasn’t quite ready to give that up. ‘It’s borrowed,’ he said. Which was an equivocation: he was borrowing it from himself.

She looked slightly worried. ‘Are you sure the owner doesn’t mind?’

‘The owner definitely doesn’t mind,’ he reassured her. ‘Please, take a seat. May I pour you some wine?’

‘Thank you.’

He held her chair out for her, then poured them both a glass of wine. ‘I’ll just go and get our antipasti.’

He brought out a platter of bruschetta to share.

‘Wow, this is fabulous,’ she said after the first taste.

‘Thank you.’ He inclined his head, playing it cool, but inside he was pleased. Particularly as she ate without fussing about carbs or calories; the last three women he’d dated had toyed with their food, and it had irritated him hugely. He loathed pretence.

And the fact that right now he was pretending to be something he wasn’t … He pushed that aside. It was only a tiny white lie. And it meant he could be himself with her, instead of the man everyone expected him to be.

She complimented him on the pasta Alfredo he served for the next course, and on the spring lamb served with rosemary potatoes and garlicky spinach.

‘It’s very simple Roman food,’ he said with a smile.

‘And you’ve taken the time to make it. To spoil me. I appreciate that,’ she said.

‘I have a confession to make,’ he said when he brought dessert through. ‘Puddings aren’t my strong point. I bought the panna cotta from the local deli.’

‘But you’ve taken the time to present it nicely,’ she pointed out.

He raised an eyebrow. ‘You’re not a hotel inspector in disguise, are you?’

She laughed. ‘No. I’m just a boring accountant.’

‘You’re not boring at all,’ he corrected. ‘I’m enjoying your company.’ He smiled back at her. ‘And I know you weren’t fishing for a compliment, before you say it.’

‘I’m enjoying your company, too,’ she said shyly.

‘Good. Come and look out over Rome. This place has great views.’ He took her hand, drew her to her feet, walked with her to the edge of the terrace.

She leaned both hands on the balustrade to look out over the city; the churches and buildings were all lit up so brightly that every detail was visible. Rico couldn’t resist standing behind her and resting his arms on the balustrade on either side of hers, while he pointed out what all the buildings were.

This close, he could smell her perfume; it reminded him of spring violets. And, with her hair up, her nape was bare and way, way too tempting. The spaghetti straps of her dress were no barrier to his lips at all …

With an uncontrollable impulse, he dipped his head so he could kiss the curve of her neck; she shivered and leaned back against him. Her skin was so soft against his mouth, so sweet—and it wasn’t enough. He spun her round to face him and brushed his mouth against hers. He could feel her lips parting, inviting him to deepen the kiss; he loved the way she responded to him, her shyness melting beneath his mouth.

He could feel her breasts pressing against him and he slid one hand between their bodies so he could caress her. Through the thin material of her dress and the lace of her bra, her nipple was hardening; he rubbed his thumb against it, and she gave a little gasp of pleasure.

Good. So it was the same for her. This crazy, unexpected surge of desire.

And right now he really needed to see her. To touch her. Skin to skin.

His hand went to the top of the zip at the back of her dress. ‘Ella. May I?’ he whispered, drawing her back away from the edge so that the greenery gave them privacy again.

She nodded, and he slid the zip down to her waist. He hooked a finger into one spaghetti strap and slid it down, then the other, coaxing the material down to her waist. Her bra was strapless, lacy and very, very pretty; but it was in the way. He needed to see her right now. He unsnapped her bra, let it drop to the floor, then cupped her breasts in both hands. ‘You’re beautiful,’ he said softly. ‘Bellezza.’

She blushed. ‘I, um …’

Yeah. He knew. This wasn’t the time for words. He kissed her again, hot and urgent; when she tipped her head back, he kissed his way down her throat, then took one nipple into his mouth and sucked. Her hands slid into his hair, urging him on.

Rico’s senses were spinning. He was so aware of the softness of her skin, the sweetness of her perfume. When he finally straightened up and looked at her again, desire lanced through him. She looked gorgeously dishevelled, naked to the waist and with wisps of hair escaping from their confines. He wanted to take her hair down properly, see it spread across his pillows.

But the fact he wasn’t touching her had clearly broken the connection between them, because she bit her lip. ‘Rico. We can’t do this.’

Second thoughts? Well, he’d never forced anyone and he wasn’t going to start now. ‘OK,’ he said softly, and touched the backs of his fingers to her cheek briefly to reassure her before he started to restore order to her clothes.

‘I mean, not here.’ She blushed.

His fingers stilled. ‘Not here?’

Her blush deepened. ‘It’s your friend’s apartment.’

No, it damned well wasn’t, and his bed was only metres away. All he had to do was pick her up and carry her there.

But he’d started the evening letting her think that the place belonged to someone else. Telling her the truth now would make things way too complicated. He was just going to have to roll with the story he’d created. And how he wished now that he’d told her the truth, right from the start.

She cupped his face with one hand. ‘But I do have a suite downstairs,’ she whispered. ‘We could go there.’ She paused and swallowed hard. ‘If you want to.’

If he wanted to? How could she possibly doubt that he wanted to? Wasn’t it obvious how attracted he was to her?

He kissed her. ‘Yes, I do. Though only if you’re sure.’

‘I’m sure.’ Her voice was still shy, but definite. ‘But shouldn’t we, um, clear up here, before …?’ She gestured to the table.

So very English. It made him smile. ‘It’s fine. I’ll deal with it later,’ he reassured her, and finished restoring order to her clothes before taking her hand. ‘Let’s go,’ he said softly.

They left the terrace and he led her down the corridor to her room in silence. Her fingers tightened round his; and he knew she was nervous because when they reached her door, she dropped her card key.

He retrieved it for her, opened the door and ushered her inside. He switched on the table lamps so that soft light spilled into the room, turned off the overhead light and pulled the curtains.

When he turned to face her, she was biting her lip, looking nervous.

He took her hand, drew it up to his mouth and touched his lips briefly against her skin. ‘Ella, if you’ve changed your mind, I understand.’

Tm …’ She looked away. ‘I don’t want to disappoint you.’

‘It’s fine to say no. I’d never force a woman.’

‘I didn’t mean that.’ She still wasn’t looking at him. ‘I’m … um … maybe not very good at this sort of thing.’

Her meaning sank in. She thought she’d disappoint him because she was no good at making love? The way she’d responded to him had told him that she wasn’t hugely experienced, that she was maybe a little shy. And he had the strongest feeling that someone had damaged her confidence. Who or why, he had no idea—but he could do something to fix this. To show her that it wasn’t true. To prove to her that she was a beautiful, desirable woman.

‘Ella bellezza,’ he said softly, ‘the first time between us isn’t going to be perfect. But that’s not a problem. It means we have time to explore each other. Time for me to learn what takes your breath away, and for you to learn what makes my pulse spike.’

This time, she looked at him. ‘So it’s not a problem?’

He gave her a reassuring smile. ‘No pressure, no worries. This is just you and me. And, if you change your mind, all you have to do is tell me to stop.’

‘I …’ She blew out a breath. ‘Sorry. I’m being really wet, here.’

‘No. It sounds to me as if someone made you feel bad to make himself feel better. So I’d say it was his problem, not yours.’ He sat down on the bed, scooping her onto his lap. She was definitely struggling with doubts, but not doubts about him. Doubts that another man had put into her head.

The only way he could think of to reassure her was to kiss her. Softly. Gently. Coaxing her to respond to him. Stoking up the heat between them, touch by touch.

He slid one spaghetti strap down over her shoulder and kissed her bare skin. She closed her eyes and tipped her head back; he took the hint and kissed a line across her throat, lingering at the point where a pulse was beating hard, then nibbling the curve of her neck.

She gave a murmur of pleasure, arching against him, and made no protest when he unzipped her dress again. He slid the other thin strap down, and let the floaty material fall to her waist.

‘Yes,’ she whispered as his fingers found the snap of her bra and undid it.

Colour bloomed in her cheeks as he cupped her breasts, teasing her nipples with the pad of his thumbs.

‘You like that?’ he asked, already knowing the answer but wanting to hear her say it.

‘I like it.’ Her voice had deepened.

‘Good.’ He guided her back to her feet, then dropped to his knees in front of her, gently easing her dress down until she stood before him in nothing but a pair of lacy knickers and high-heeled shoes.

‘Nice view,’ he said softly. ‘You’re beautiful, Ella bellezza.’

She didn’t look as if she quite believed him. Well, there was something he could do about that.

‘I’m going to enjoy this,’ he said. ‘Your skin’s so soft. And you smell gorgeous.’ He traced a circle round her navel with the tip of his tongue. ‘You taste good, too.’

He slid one hand between her thighs, cupping her sex through the lace of her knickers. She shivered.

‘I want to see you,’ he said softly. He wanted to see her abandoned to pleasure, lost to his touch. ‘I want to touch you, Ella. Taste you.’

She shivered again. ‘Yes.’

It took him half a second to stand up, scoop her up in his arms and settle her against the pillows. He’d meant to loosen her hair, but he couldn’t wait for that. All he could think about was making her totally lost to pleasure.

He kissed her, this time more demanding; this time her response was more confident. More abandoned. Just how he wanted her.

It was a moment’s work to strip the last tiny bit of lace from her skin. And then he kissed his way down over her abdomen, taking his time until she wriggled beneath him, arching her body and sliding her fingers into his hair to let him know she wanted this just as much as he did.

He could taste just how aroused she was with the first long, slow stroke of his tongue along her sex. Sweet and salt, and most definitely responsive. She whimpered as he teased her clitoris with the tip of his tongue, swirling round and then sucking hard, varying the pace and pressure until finally he felt her go rigid beneath him, and heard her cry out his name as her climax hit her.

Rico shifted up the bed and held her close. ‘OK?’

‘Very OK. Thank you.’ She dragged in a breath. ‘Oh, my God. I’m completely naked, and you’re still fully clothed.’

‘Because I got a bit greedy,’ he said with a grin. ‘You can always do something about it, if you want to.’

She unbuttoned his shirt; almost shyly, she skated her fingers along his pecs. ‘You feel good.’

As she undid the button of his jeans and slid the zip down Rico felt his control begin to shred. Right now he really, really wanted to be inside her. But he needed to take this at her pace, to make sure she was comfortable with him.

And she took her time undressing him, stroking every centimetre of skin she uncovered, moving her fingertips in tiny circles against his skin and arousing him until he was on the verge of losing control. By the time she’d got him naked, he could barely speak, except to croak the words, ‘Condom. My wallet. In my jeans.’

She fished his wallet out of his jeans and handed it to him. He retrieved the little foil packet, but his hands were shaking too much to deal with it. She smiled and took it from him, then unwrapped it and slowly, slowly rolled it onto him. Rico was almost whimpering with the need to bury himself inside her; he sat up, pulling her towards him so that she was straddling his lap, and then sighed with pleasure as she eased herself down onto him.

Oh, my God, Ella thought as she straddled him. This was meant to be just a fling. A one-off. But, seeing the pleasure blooming in his face, feeling the softness of his skin against hers and the hardness of his muscles … The sheer intensity of their connection shocked her.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. It was meant to be carefree and fun and mutual pleasure. No emotions. And certainly not this strange feeling that this was meant to be—because she didn’t want to get involved again. Didn’t want to feel. Didn’t want to risk her heart being shattered again.

She pulled herself together. Just.

‘Is that good for you?’ she asked huskily.

‘Sì. Yes.’ He stroked her face. ‘Thanks to you, I can barely think straight in my own language, let alone in English.’

Pleased, she leaned forward to kiss him.

He slid his hands into her hair so he could angle his mouth more closely to hers, kiss her harder. Working purely by touch, he found the pins that bound her hair, removed them and dropped them off the edge of the bed, then sighed with pleasure as her hair fell over her shoulders. ‘Bellezza. I like your hair down. You have glorious hair.’ He stole another kiss.

She rocked over him, taking it torturously slow; Rico’s control snapped and he wrapped his arms round her so he could push deeper, harder. And finally he felt her body tightening round him, pushing him into his own climax.

Wow. He certainly hadn’t expected it to be that intense between them. Not this first time. He couldn’t even remember the last time someone had made him feel like this, the last time when sex had felt this special.

Not willing to give up the connection between them just yet, he held her close. But eventually he had to move to deal with the condom. ‘Wait for me,’ he whispered.

When he came back into the bedroom, she’d slid under the covers. Clearly she’d gone shy on him.

‘OK?’ he asked softly.

She nodded, but he could see the awkwardness in her face.

He sat down on the edge of the bed. ‘Ella. This doesn’t mean I’m going to make demands on you. Or that I’m going to just walk away and ignore you, either. It’s up to you where you want this to go next.’

She swallowed hard. ‘I’m only here for two more nights after this.’

So there was a defined limit. Just how he liked his relationships. They could have some fun and then just walk away. ‘Maybe we can see a little more of each other while you’re here in Rome.’

‘When you’re not working, you mean?’

He smiled. ‘Actually, I happen to be off duty for the next couple of days.’

She gave him a sceptical look. ‘In the middle of tourist season?’

‘There isn’t a tourist season in Rome any more,’ he said. ‘Visitors come all year round. So I can take time off whenever I want to.’ He paused. ‘If you’d like me to show you a bit more of the city, then I’m at your disposal.’

She thought about it, and smiled. ‘Thank you. I’d like that.’

‘Good.’ He leaned over to kiss her, keeping the contact light and non-demanding. ‘So, it’s a date. Shall I call for you after breakfast? Say, half-past eight?’

‘Half-past eight. That’d be good,’ she said.

‘Bene.’ He pulled his clothes on. ‘Then I’ll see you tomorrow.’

‘Hang on. I’ll come with you and help clean up.’

He smiled. ‘No, it’s fine. It won’t take me long. And you look warm and sweet and comfortable. Stay where you are.’ He kissed her again, this time lingering until his pulse spiked and she looked flushed and incredibly sexy. ‘Sweet dreams, bellezza.’

Ella curled back under the duvet as Rico left the room. This was the last thing she’d expected to find in Rome. Romance. A fling. And the way Rico had made her feel …

Funny, she couldn’t hear Michael’s voice in her head any more. The justifications, the sharp comments about how he’d had to look elsewhere for his pleasure because she didn’t have a clue how to please a man. Now she knew it really wasn’t true; she’d most definitely pleased Rico tonight. To the point where he’d actually admitted that he couldn’t think straight.

So maybe Rico was right and Michael had dumped his own shortcomings on her. It hadn’t all been her fault.

And tomorrow—tomorrow was suddenly full of promise.