Читать книгу The Italians: Rico, Antonio and Giovanni - Kate Hardy - Страница 14

ELLA managed to keep her mind on her work—just—but by half-past seven she was antsy. Rico hadn’t given her any idea about where they were going, so she had no idea what the dress code was. She didn’t possess a little black dress; the one she’d bought in Rome had gone straight to a charity shop as soon as she’d washed and ironed it.

In the end, she decided to wear one of the suits she’d worn in her office job. Formal and smart might be the way to go. A suit of armour would be better still, but a work suit would have to do.

He was as prompt as he’d been in Rome, ringing her doorbell at exactly eight o’clock. It was the first time she’d seen him wearing a suit, and he looked absolutely stunning. The dark grey material, teamed with one of his trademark crisp white shirts and a silk tie, emphasised his good looks. He was utterly breathtaking—and she wanted.

‘You look very nice,’ he said, disarming her.

‘Thank you.’ And why was it that, even though she knew what a liar he was, her knees still went weak when he smiled? Cross with herself for being such a pushover, she asked, ‘Where are we going?’

‘My hotel.’

Somewhere private. Oh, help. She remembered what happened when they were in private hotel rooms together.

‘We’ll talk in my room. And then we’ll order dinner,’ he said.

‘And I get no say in this?’

He spread his hands. ‘I just said we’ll talk in my room.’

She narrowed her eyes at him. ‘You’re being bossy.’

He shrugged. ‘We agreed to talk. And it makes sense for it to be the hotel; it’s neutral ground, and somewhere we won’t be overheard.’

She locked the door behind her and followed him out to the taxi. He didn’t start a conversation, and she didn’t have a clue what to say without making a fool of herself, so they remained in silence until the taxi pulled up outside a boutique hotel in Bloomsbury.

‘Fountain Hotel’ was etched into the glass of the doors. Definitely a link with Rome, she thought.

‘Is this the hotel you’re thinking of buying?’ she asked as the taxi drove off.

‘Maybe.’

She rolled her eyes. ‘I’m hardly going to go and tell the world what your plans are and scupper your business deals, am I?’

‘I guess not.’

She sighed. ‘Rico, what are you doing here? I mean, with me?’

‘We have unfinished business, Ella bellezza. And we’re going to talk about it now.’

They took the tiny lift up to his room. She could still remember the last time they’d been in a hotel room together, and warmth spread down her spine at the memories. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea and she should’ve insisted on them talking in a public place. Then again, what they were going to discuss was definitely something best done in private. She didn’t want anyone else overhearing what a fool she’d made of herself.

When Rico opened the door and ushered her in, Ella was relieved to discover that he’d booked a suite rather than a room. Without a bed in sight, she might just be able to concentrate.

He offered her a seat on one of the sofas. ‘Coffee? Something cold? A glass of wine?’

‘I’m fine, thanks.’ She stared levelly at him as he sat down on the opposite sofa. ‘So, where do we start?’

‘We can start with why you walked out on me in Rome.’

‘You know why. I found out you’d lied to me. I don’t like liars.’ She lifted her chin. ‘Why did you lie to me about who you were, Rico? You let me believe you were a tour guide.’

‘Which I was, for that day.’

‘Why couldn’t you have told me the truth later that evening, when we went out to dinner?’

A muscle twitched in his cheek. ‘Because you would’ve changed.’

She frowned. ‘How?’

‘Instead of seeing me for who I am, you would’ve seen me as the CEO of Rossi Hotels.’

She frowned. ‘And what difference does that make?’

‘You befriended a tour guide, a man you thought didn’t have any money. You responded to me as a man. You liked me for who I was, not for my status.’

She looked at him. ‘You once told me you thought I’d been seeing the wrong sort of man. It sounds to me as if you’ve been seeing the wrong kind of woman.’

He rubbed a hand across his eyes. ‘Maybe.’

‘And, actually, I’m a bit insulted that you think I could be that shallow. I don’t judge people by the balance in their bank account.’

He flushed a dull red. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it personally. It’s just how people always reacted to me in the past.’ He raked a hand through his hair. ‘I’m making a mess of this. Ella, what I’m trying to say is that I liked who I was when I was with you. I liked the way you made me feel, and I wasn’t ready to give that up.’

‘But you thought I was shallow enough to respond differently to you once I found out who you were.’ She grimaced. ‘I’m not sure if that’s worse than what I thought originally.’

‘Which was?’

She shrugged. ‘That you were a bored, spoiled rich kid, and you were slumming it with me—having a joke at my expense.’

‘And now you’ve insulted me,’ he said. ‘Rich, yes; spoiled, possibly; but bored and slumming it—no way. I never laughed at you, Ella. Far from it.’ He gave her a wry smile. ‘The irony of it is that I was going to tell you about my real job, that last day. Neither of us wants to get involved; neither of us has time for a relationship. But we’re good together. So I was going to suggest that we found a way to juggle things and carry on our fling a little longer.’

She stared at him, stunned. That was the last thing she’d expected to hear.

‘OK, so I was a bit evasive about my background.’

‘A bit?’

‘But you’re overreacting. It really wasn’t that big a deal.’

‘Lying’s a big deal to me,’ she said. ‘If you can lie about something small, what’s to stop you lying about something else? How do I even know you’re single and you’re not just turning on the charm? I can’t trust you.’

‘I’m single. I wouldn’t lie about that. I don’t like cheats.’ He looked thoughtful. ‘Who lied to you so badly, Ella? Your ex?’

‘Yes. And I was too stupid to see it.’

‘You’re not stupid,’ he said softly. ‘But if he was plausible, offering you what you thought you wanted, then maybe it was easier for you not to ask questions or look for problems.’

‘Gullible, then.’

‘Don’t be so hard on yourself.’ He took her hand. ‘What happened?’

‘I …’ Bile rose in her throat at the memory. She didn’t want to drag it all up again, have the top of her scars ripped open.

As if he guessed her thoughts, he said gently, ‘It’s not good to bottle things up. It means you don’t get the chance to heal.’

He had a point. And maybe if she explained, told him the truth, it would take some of the pain away. Rico had made her feel beautiful in Rome, wiping out the hurt Michael had left. Maybe telling him the rest would help her put it where it belonged—in the past.

‘I spent three years supporting Michael while he studied for his PhD. I thought we loved each other.’ How naïve and trusting she’d been. ‘And I knew he was working hard, juggling his thesis with his teaching commitments, so I decided to surprise him with lunch at the university. I wanted to make him feel good, give him a break. Except he was busy having …’ Her breath caught. ‘Let’s just say he was having a very private tutorial with one of his students. And I walked right into the middle of it.’

‘How awful for you.’ Rico looked sympathetic. ‘I take it you had no idea that he was cheating on you?’

‘None at all. I thought he loved me.’ She swallowed hard. ‘But he was just using me; I was someone to pay the rent and the bills. I don’t think she was the first of his students he’d had an affair with. And he said afterwards that it was my fault. That I wasn’t woman enough to satisfy him.’

‘That was his biggest lie,’ Rico said. ‘It wasn’t your fault at all. He tried to blame his own inadequacies on you.’ He pressed a kiss into her palm and folded her fingers over it, and Ella had to swallow hard to stop a sob breaking through at his gentleness. ‘You’re woman enough, all right. He was the one with the problem.’ His eyes narrowed. ‘Now I understand what you mean about grovelling letters once he found out about your lottery win. I’m glad you didn’t fall for it and take him back.’

‘No, because I already knew I couldn’t trust him. But I’m still a gullible idiot. I fell for all the lies you told me. That flat you said you borrowed …’

‘I borrowed it from myself,’ he said. ‘I know that’s equivocating, and I apologise for that.’

‘And you own that swish restaurant, too?’

‘No. But I admit that I’m good friends with the owner. We went to school together. So, yes, I traded on our friendship. He found me a table that night.’

‘And charged me lower prices, too?’ She narrowed her eyes at him. ‘I didn’t really think about it at the time, but when my credit card bill came through I realised it seemed a bit low for such a posh restaurant.’

Rico sighed. ‘OK. I admit I settled part of the bill in advance. I knew it would be expensive and I didn’t want to take advantage of you.’

There at least he wasn’t like Michael, who’d really taken advantage of her. All the same, it annoyed Ella that Rico had made a high-handed decision without even discussing it with her. ‘Don’t you think that’s just a tiny bit patronising? I told you I could afford it.’

‘I know. But it still felt like taking advantage of you.’ He wrinkled his nose. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be ungrateful. I guess I’m used to being the one who pays.’

‘So you’re a control freak?’ she asked. ‘Except …’ She shook her head. ‘No, that’s not what you were like. Not that first night. When you made all that effort and cooked dinner for me yourself. And you admitted that you’re rubbish at puddings so you bought them from the deli.’ She narrowed her eyes at him. ‘You were telling the truth then, weren’t you?’

‘Yes. And I really was a tour guide, that day, Ella. Another time, you might’ve met me as a waiter. Or the male equivalent of a chambermaid.’

She blinked. ‘You really clean hotel rooms?’

‘And other jobs. I’ve worked in the kitchen—I probably have the same kind of food hygiene qualifications you do.’

‘But you’re the CEO of the chain.’ She didn’t understand. He was the boss. Why was he taking on other roles?

‘That’s precisely why I do it. Working a short stint in every role is the best way of seeing what issues my staff face, and it also helps me see what would make life better for my guests and for my staff. And my staff respect me for it, because they know I’m not just issuing orders from some ivory tower—they know I’ve done the job myself, so I’m talking from experience rather than some half-baked theory. And they also know that because I’ve done it myself, I appreciate what they do.’

‘That figures. And the girl who told me about you seemed to respect you.’

‘Good.’ He paused. ‘You overreacted, Ella. I told you one little white lie.’

‘It was still a lie.’

‘But it wasn’t meant to hurt you. Your ex really messed with your head,’ he said. ‘Or is there more to it than that?’

‘He isn’t the only one who lied to me,’ she admitted. ‘Lying is a definite deal-breaker where I’m concerned.’

‘Supposing I promise never to tell you anything but the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, from this moment on?’ he asked.

She grimaced. ‘You make it sound as if I’m putting you on trial.’

‘Isn’t that what you’re doing?’

He was the one who’d lied. How come she was the one who felt guilty? She sighed. ‘Rome—you and me—that was meant to be just fun. A fling.’

‘Absolutely. Three days of enjoying each other’s company, and we’d never have to see each other again.’

‘But now you’re here in London.’

‘On business.’

‘So why did you look me up?’

‘To prove something to myself.’

‘What?’

He shrugged. ‘Doesn’t matter.’

He really didn’t like talking about himself, did he? He sidestepped questions, or even stonewalled them. She didn’t have a clue what was going on in his head. She frowned. ‘Where are you going with this? Rico, I’m just starting up my business. Right now I barely have time to sleep.’

‘I didn’t,’ he said softly, ‘have sleeping in mind.’

Pictures bloomed in her head, and heat coiled deep in her belly. ‘Oh.’ Her voice sounded husky, and she was furious with herself for giving herself away like that. She still had the hots for him. Which was crazy, because in some ways he was more of a stranger to her now than he’d been when she’d met him.

‘I don’t have time for this, either,’ he said. ‘I have an empire to finish building.’

‘That’s the dream you wouldn’t tell me about in Rome? To build an empire?’ She paused. ‘Or a dynasty?’

He scowled. ‘Not a dynasty. I don’t want a family.’

He sounded a little too emphatic. She remembered he’d said he wasn’t close to his family. ‘What’s so bad about your family?’

‘Let’s just leave it that they want different things from me.’

‘But surely your mum and dad are proud of you? You don’t look much older than I am, and you’re already CEO of a chain with four hotels in Rome.’

‘Sounds as if you’ve been doing research on me.’

‘No. Your receptionist told me about the other hotels. And you’re avoiding the question.’

He shrugged. ‘I have no idea whether my parents are proud of me and I don’t actually care. I barely speak to them, and it suits all of us that way.’ He looked her straight in the eye. ‘What about you? I know you lost your mum—but if she’d been here I’d bet she would’ve been really proud of you last night. But what about your dad, your grandparents? Were they there at the launch?’

‘My mum was a single parent, and …’ She grimaced. ‘I don’t have a family to be close to. But I have good friends. That’s enough for me.’

‘Me, too.’ He gave her a wry smile. ‘Something else we have in common.’

‘We’re from different worlds. You’re—’

‘—a bored, spoiled rich kid, slumming it?’ he cut in.

She blew out a breath. ‘I apologise for that. But you do come from a wealthy background. I don’t. My lottery win would be small change to you, but it’s absolutely life-changing for me.’

‘You’re the one who said money isn’t important,’ he reminded her.

‘It isn’t what you have that matters; it’s the kind of person you are and how you treat others that’s important.’

‘That works for me,’ he said. ‘So. You and me.’ He drew her hand up to his mouth. His lips were warm against her palm. She closed her eyes as his mouth moved to her wrist; she knew he would be able to feel just how hard and how fast her pulse was beating.

‘Ella bellezza.’ He stroked her cheek and she opened her eyes again. ‘Neither of us has time for this. Neither of us is looking for this. But can you honestly tell me that you want to walk away from this?’

‘Honestly?’ She thought about it. ‘No.’ She reached up to trace his lower lip with the tip of her forefinger. He had such a beautiful mouth. A mouth that had given her so much pleasure.

He drew the tip of her finger into his mouth and sucked, hard.

Lust curled through her again. ‘Rico.’ The word felt as if it were poured through sand.

And then they were kissing each other, hot, hard, open-mouthed. He scooped her onto his lap and slid his hands under her jacket; she could feel the warmth of his palms against her skin through the soft cotton of her shirt. Then he tugged her shirt out of her waistband and they were skin to skin. His fingertips moved in tiny circles against her skin, arousing her further. Slowly, slowly, he moved his hands from her back to her midriff, and then upwards so he could cup her breasts. She ached for his touch.

As if he read her mind, he moved one hand so he could unbutton her shirt, then stripped her jacket and shirt off at the same time.

‘Your skin’s so soft.’ He traced the lacy edge of her bra. ‘And I need to see you.’

‘Yes.’ She wanted this as much as he did. Needed it. He might be a liar, a man she could never trust, but he made her body sing.

He unsnapped her bra with one hand, slid the straps down, then tossed the lacy garment away. She closed her eyes and tipped her head back as he kissed his way down her throat—hot, open-mouthed kisses, swirling his tongue against her skin. Her hands slid back into his hair, urging him on.

He opened his mouth over one nipple and sucked; a bolt of pure pleasure lanced through her. But it wasn’t enough. She knew he could give her more, and she wanted everything he could offer. Every touch, every caress, every taste.

When he released her, she dipped her head and kissed him.

He was shaking when he broke the kiss. ‘Ella, if we don’t stop now …’

‘If we do stop,’ she said, ‘I think I might implode.’

‘Me, too.’ His eyes were very dark, and his accent was more pronounced.

She slid off his lap and got to her feet, expecting him to lead her through to his bedroom. But, to her shock, when he stood up, he scooped her into his arms and carried her through to his bed.

‘Caveman tendencies?’

‘Absolutely. And that means I want your hair down. Spread across my pillow. While I’m buried inside you.’

Oh, God, the pictures that put in her head.

That silenced her, and he laughed. ‘Careful what you wish for, Ella bellezza.’

His smile gave her the courage to say what she was thinking. ‘Right now I wish,’ she said, ‘that you weren’t wearing quite so much.’

He set her down on her feet. ‘OK, I’m in your hands. Do what you will.’

Her hands were trembling slightly as she undid the buttons of his shirt. Then she had to deal with his tie. It had been years since she’d dated a man who wore a tie—Michael had always gone for the casual college professor look—and this one felt like silk. Designer. ‘Help?’ she asked.

He dealt with the tie and his top button, and shrugged his jacket off. ‘Better?’

‘Rico, that needs hanging up.’ His jacket had felt soft and smooth, and she’d bet it cost a small fortune.

‘I don’t care. I just need you to take the rest of my clothes off. Preferably in the next five seconds. And you can lose your skirt, first.’

She lifted her chin. ‘Bossing me about, are you?’

He spread his hands and gave her the sexiest grin she’d ever seen. ‘Just making a suggestion. Which you can choose to accept … or not.’

‘So this thing between us—it’s equal.’

‘It’s equal.’ He narrowed his eyes at her. ‘So will you just stop talking and kiss me?’

‘A request. Polite. Ish,’ she said. ‘There’s a word missing.’

He looked pained. ‘Ella. Please.’

‘Much better.’ She kissed him.

Between them, they managed to get rid of the rest of their clothes, and he took the pins out of her hair. And then he lifted her up and laid her on the huge, wide bed. The mattress was firm, but the pillows were soft and deep. She drew her hand down his side, moulding her palm to the shape of his body; in return, he traced the curve of her hip and her buttocks.

‘Your move,’ he said, his voice deepening.

She drew one finger down his sternum and smiled.

He copied her.

She slid her hand across his midriff. Rico did the same to her, then slid his hand up to brush the under curve of her breasts. Ella closed her eyes. ‘Oh, yes. More,’ she whispered.

He slid his hand between her thighs to cup her sex; she wriggled, needing him closer.

At last, he drew one fingertip along her sex, teasing her until she was near to clenching her fists with frustration; her breath escaped as he pushed one finger inside her. She tipped her head back against the pillows as his thumb found her clitoris and teased it.

‘You like that?’ he whispered.

‘Yes.’ She dragged in a breath. ‘But I want more.’

‘Me, too.’

Ella felt the mattress dip and realised he was no longer beside her. She opened her eyes. ‘Rico?’

‘Condom,’ he said, rummaging for his wallet and retrieving a foil packet. He ripped the packet open and rolled the latex over his shaft; the bed dipped again as he knelt between her thighs. And then at last he gently eased into her. He held still, letting her body adjust to the feel of his, then stole a kiss. ‘Perfect. Just how I wanted to see you, Ella bellezza,’ he said huskily. ‘Your hair spread over my pillow, and me inside you.’

Then he began to move; he took it slowly at first, stoking her desire to fever point. Then it was as if something snapped his control and he moved faster, harder, building the pressure until finally her climax splintered through her. As her body tightened round his she could feel him tense as he reached his own release.

Finally, he eased out of her, and kissed her tenderly. ‘Don’t go anywhere,’ he whispered as he headed for the en suite.

Alone in his bedroom, Ella felt awkward. They were supposed to be talking, sorting things out between them, and yet they’d ended up in bed. And she felt like a tart.

‘What’s the matter?’ he asked when he came back.

She told him.

He sighed, sat on the end of the bed and took her hand. ‘First of all, you’re not a tart. I didn’t exactly have a lot of control, either. I was with you all the way. So don’t beat yourself up about it.’

‘I guess.’

He drew her hand to his mouth, pressed a kiss into her palm and curled her fingers round it. ‘If anything, I’m the one at fault. I was supposed to be taking you to dinner, not carrying you to my bed.’ He was still holding her hand as he asked, ‘So where do we go from here?’