Читать книгу Modern Romance February Books 1-4 - Линн Грэхем, Maisey Yates - Страница 19
ОглавлениеHE’D KISSED HER. It was all she’d been able to think about last night, lying in bed with her lips—her body—burning.
It was all she could think about the next day, too. Which was ridiculous because they were on a tour of the stables. Which were fascinating from a great many angles—historical and equine.
But she was prickly and distracted. From exhaustion. From the heat of Alex’s body next to her, from the night spent not sleeping.
Her jacket was itchy, too. Which didn’t help. It was a pleasant day, warm and dry, the air blowing in off the sea. And she was wearing a jacket because Alex had said it was secretarial and that it was important she appear so because of reasons she had now forgotten since she had a bead of sweat running down the center of her shoulder blades.
Also she was still thinking about the kiss.
Ahead of them, one of the prime minister’s employees was extolling the virtues of the groundskeepers, and the brave servants who had saved the facilities and all the horses during a fire that happened a hundred years ago.
“This is boring,” Alex said, his lips brushing her ear as he leaned in to whisper to her. It sent a shiver down her neck, down her arm, caused heat to pool in her stomach.
She took a breath, realizing when she inhaled a healthy dose of his masculine scent that it had been a mistake. “Excellent,” she said, taking great pains to keep her voice crisp. “A chance to see The Alessandro in his natural habitat.”
“Are you observing me for a nature guide you are working on?”
“Rampantis masculinitis,” she said, smiling slightly.
“Characterized by?” he asked.
She looked up at him, at the wicked glint in his eye, and she quickly looked away again.
The tour group had gone on ahead of them, and she had only just noticed that their pace has slowed dramatically. He’d acted like this was done with last night. Like he’d realized what a bad idea it was to encourage all of this...this stuff between them. But he was back in fighting form this morning.
He was deliberately keeping her back from the group. Keeping them both separate.
This really was like watching a nature show. The predator had separated the weaker gazelle from the herd. And after last night, she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she was the weaker gazelle.
“What are we doing?”
“I told you,” he said, his smile turning wicked. “I’m bored. Anyway, it wouldn’t do to have you acting skittish around me, or to have me avoid you. You are my assistant, Gabby, not a bookish princess who all but forced herself into a treasure hunt with a stranger.”
She looked ahead of the group, then looked up at him, at his dark, glittering eyes. There was an air of good humor about him, but there was something else, too. A base note that ran beneath it that spoke of danger, excitement.
She should turn away from it. She should have learned from last night. From letting him get too close.
She didn’t. She hadn’t.
“The painting,” she said, her voice hoarse.
“Is not out here in the stables,” he said. “I had hoped that we would tour the house today so we might get an idea of its location.”
“Well, we can do a little bit of exploring on our own.”
“I would like to do it during the day. I’m not sure where our host gets to during the daylight hours. He certainly isn’t parading us about. But once the sun goes down, and the brandy comes out, he does seem to reappear.”
“So, you think we should look for it at night?”
He lifted his shoulder. “It lowers the risk of running into him in the halls if we know he’s socializing. It’s either that or we tell him what we’re after. But I have a feeling the cloak and dagger might be necessary. I told you, I’m willing to pay for the painting, but my fear is that he won’t want to part with it when he understands what it is. That isn’t an option. Money might be no object, but failure is unacceptable.”
She nodded slowly. “Why do you want the painting so badly?”
“Because my grandfather wishes to have it. And I owe him a debt, I told you that already. He wants it—I will see he gets it.”
She studied his expression. She could see that he had no attachment to the painting. He must love his grandfather. That she was certain of. Because Alex was not the kind of man who did anything that he didn’t want to do. Only a few days in his presence and she was certain of that.
“What does it mean to him?” she asked.
“I’m not entirely sure. But there is a story...” He looked away from her, stared off toward the horizon line. “He has always told us this story, from the time we were children. About coming to America with nothing. He had eight objects that were dear to his heart. Objects that he had to sell slowly over the years to save himself from ruin. They were...they were very special to him. He often referred to them as his mistresses. Items that held sway over his heart. I don’t know why. I don’t know if it was because of their value, because of their beauty or because of their connection to another person. Regardless, these eight objects were the most important thing that Giovanni Di Sione possessed.”
“The painting is one of them,” she said.
“Yes. I was the last grandchild he asked. The rest have either been found or are being found by my siblings.”
“But I don’t understand how your grandfather could have come into possession of the painting.”
“There are a great many possibilities. He could have bought it at an art auction of some kind, could have bought it off a merchant. And of course, your family could have bought it back and brought it to this house for safekeeping after the fact. I doubt there’s any kind of serious connection.”
She suspected that he didn’t doubt it at all. She was beginning to suspect that there was some sort of connection between his grandfather and her family. And seeing as Alex wasn’t stupid, she imagined he saw it, too.
“Or,” she said, “he knew my grandmother.”
“I’m certain your grandmother would have said something when she heard my name. At the very least, she might have thrown me out.”
“What would throwing you out accomplish? As you pointed out, you didn’t need either of us to retrieve the painting, not really. You’re right, you could have flashed a little gold at my mother and you would have had all the information you needed.”
“True. But still, I don’t think there is much point in spinning a fantasy out of any of it. I know my grandfather. He is a good man. He raised us after our parents died. And before they died, he was our most stable influence. I’ve always cherished my time with him. He treasures his grandchildren. In a way that our parents never did. We were very lucky to have him. We are lucky to have him still. But I know we won’t have him much longer. And that’s why...”
“You need the painting.” She looked up at the clear blue sky, blinking against the sun as the cool sea breeze ruffled her hair. “You love him very much.”
He paused. “He’s family. Of course I feel a great deal for him.”
She smiled slightly, trying not to laugh at him, since she knew he wouldn’t appreciate it. “Alessandro, I think you might have a heart.”
He arched a brow and looked toward her. “Don’t say that too loudly. We can’t have any rumors about that getting around.”
“Why? Would it destroy your reputation for being a monster? I have ample evidence that you aren’t bad.”
“Oh, really? Give me a few examples.”
She sighed, letting out a breath and starting down a path that led back toward the estate, winding through a row of hedges that had bright pink flowers on them, little explosions of color against the dark green. She kept her eyes on those blossoms. A welcome distraction from Alex and his persistent presence.
“Well, you haven’t breathed fire once since I met you.”
“I’ve been taking antacids. It helps with that.”
She laughed, the sound pulled reluctantly from her. “Okay, I haven’t seen you gnawing on the bones of any villagers, either. In fact, I don’t think any villagers have gone missing since we’ve arrived on the island.”
“That’s because I only eat royalty,” he said, giving her a rather meaningful look.
She directed her gaze back to the flowers. “Also, you don’t sleep in a coffin.”
He reached out, grabbing hold of her arm and stopping her in her tracks. “How is it you know where I sleep? Have you been watching me?”
A rush of heat traveled up her arm from the point of contact with his hand and she blushed furiously. “Of course not. Even if I had looked into your room, you would have been shrouded behind the velvet curtains.”
“Maybe I have a coffin behind them.”
“I doubt it.”
“All right, so maybe you have caught on to my secret. I’m simply a man.”
“One who is going out of his way to help his grandfather. I think you might have a heart and a soul.”
“My heart is hard as a rock and my soul is ever so slightly charred from walking through life’s fires, but I suppose they’re still there.”
“You also didn’t...” She looked away from him, regretting the words even as she began to speak them, but finding she was unable to stop them. “You didn’t take advantage of me last night. You could have. Had you wanted to.”
“I have no interest in taking advantage of maidens,” he said, his voice hard.
Oh...oh, of course he didn’t.
It dawned on her. Suddenly. Horrifically.
Of course he didn’t have an interest in maidens. In her. Whatever madness had possessed him last night when he’d kissed her, it hadn’t been attraction. Men like him simply weren’t attracted to women like her.
To him, she was barely a woman. She was little more than a girl, and he made that very clear. Of course, she had made a similar number of comments about his age, and she didn’t truly think he was old.
“I don’t think you’re old,” she said, feeling the need to clarify it suddenly.
“Oh, that’s excellent. I guess I won’t dip into my retirement account just yet then.”
“You’re thirty-six?”
“Yes.”
“See? Not even middle-aged.”
He laughed. “Not even... You’re a minx. Do you know that?”
She blinked, her heart suddenly beating faster. Stupid heart. He didn’t want her. He didn’t even like her. “I’m not trying to be.”
“I’m sure that’s true.”
“You can let go of my arm now,” she said, looking down at where he was still hanging on to her.
“What if I told you I didn’t want to?”
“I would ask you why. And then I would ask you what good could possibly come of it.”
Her heart was pounding so hard now she could barely hear herself speak. If he couldn’t hear her heartbeat she would be surprised.
“You’re right. There is no point. As I already told you, I’m not interested in defiling any maidens this week.”
She pulled herself out of his grasp and continued on down the path. “Who said I was a maiden?” She closed her eyes for a second, allowing the sun to wash over her face, the corners of her lips curving up slightly into a smile.
“You didn’t have to say it,” he said. “I could feel it in your kiss.”
Her stomach sank down to her toes and she opened her eyes again, the corners of her lips falling. “Was it so terrible?”
Of course it had been.
“Not terrible. Inexperienced. I could taste it on your skin.”
“That’s ridiculous. Inexperience doesn’t have a flavor.”
He grabbed hold of her arm again, turned her to face him, drawing her closely toward him. Rather than speeding up, this time her heart stopped beating altogether. He lowered his head slightly, then reached up, sliding his thumb along the edge of her lip. “Yes, Gabriella, inexperience absolutely has a flavor. And on your lips, there was also innocence and wildflowers. I did not mistake the taste of any of that.”
He released his hold on her, put distance between them, and she still couldn’t breathe any easier.
“You didn’t taste like anything,” she said.
“That’s because you didn’t taste me.”
Prickles crawled up her back like an army of ants and she hunched her shoulders up around her ears, lowering her head and continuing on toward the estate.
“Suddenly, you don’t seem to like honesty very much,” he said.
“Suddenly, you’re a bit too honest. You said—”
“I am bad at behaving, and I am terrible at restraint. Tell me you didn’t like kissing me, and I won’t bring it up again.”
It would be easy to lie. All she had to do was open her mouth and tell him that she didn’t like kissing him. That should be an easy thing to do. It should be a simple thing to make her lips form those words. But right now everything felt stuck. The words lodged in the center of her throat, curled up into a little ball, refusing to budge.
She said nothing; she just kept walking on ahead.
If he was triumphant over her silence, he didn’t let on.
He was the one who broke the silence and it felt like a definite checkmark in the loss column for her.
“The party tonight is formal,” he said, “everyone is going to be in their finest.”
She let out a heavy sigh. “Except for me. In fact, I may skip this one and just sit in my little servant’s quarters with a crust of bread and some cheese.”
“That’s quite dramatic. I think we could at least get you some fresh bread.”
“There isn’t any reason for me to go. Actually, I might be able to roam the halls a little bit if I stay behind.”
“Hospitality has been extended to both of us. And I’m concerned about angering the host.”
“Is that because of the painting or because you want to do business with him?”
“Everything is about business. I have an opportunity to increase my success while I’m here and I’m definitely going to take it. I don’t want to do anything to compromise that. I certainly won’t allow you to compromise it.”
“Well, I don’t want to be embarrassed.”
“You didn’t let me finish. The party tonight is a masked ball. That means everyone will be wearing masks.”
“Thank you,” she said, her tone flat. “I actually got that from the title masked ball.”
“Just making sure.”
“Well, there is still a problem with that.”
“What’s that?”
“I left my ball gown and my elegant face mask in my other luggage.”
“I might not be royalty, cara mia, but I am a billionaire. I could acquire white tigers in the space of a couple hours if I wanted to. A gown and a mask will be no trouble at all.”
“What if I would rather have the white tigers?”
“Your room is too small.”
“They can sleep in my bed.”
“I’m not getting you white tigers. It would only spoil you. Plus, then everyone would want one.”
She couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped her lips. She had no idea how he managed all of this. How he managed to make her feel hot, frustrated and amused in the space of only a few seconds. It was some kind of strange witchcraft she had never encountered before.
“Fine.”
“Fine to the gown and the mask?”
She let out an exasperated sigh. “Would it matter if I said no, Alex?”
Suddenly, his voice seemed to be coming from closer behind her, his low, sensual tones skimming along her skin. “Not especially. If I had to I would go into your room myself and act the part of your valet.”
“You aren’t suggesting you would dress me?”
“I confess I have much more experience undressing women than I have dressing them. But I might be willing to make an exception.”
It was official. She was going to burst into flame.
She had lied when she’d told him she didn’t read romance novels. She did. Secretly. And while she pretended to snicker at them from behind her hand, the truth was she was fascinated. She had always been curious to know if attraction like that existed. If it was possible to look at someone and feel like they were touching you. Like it would be too much if they did. Like you would die if they didn’t.
She knew it did now. And she knew it was the kind of intensity that fiction simply couldn’t prepare you for.
His lips had barely skimmed hers last night and she had felt like the moon and stars had fallen from the sky and scattered around her in the garden, leaving the world upside down, glittering all around her, rather than in the distance.
But it didn’t matter. She wasn’t going to lose her head over him. That was the last thing she had told her grandmother. That she would not allow him to seduce her.
Her grandmother had warned her away from this kind of thing in vague terms, and when the subject of the painting had come up, just before they’d come to retrieve it, it had become clear to Gabriella why. Her grandmother had been wounded by a man such as this. One who was powerful, handsome.
One she was not meant to be with.
Quite apart from the fact that Gabriella couldn’t imagine a future with a man like this, one who didn’t believe in love, or commitment, she was a princess. And even if she didn’t have a throne she would be required to make a certain kind of marriage.
It would not be to an Italian American businessman who had no pedigree. That just wouldn’t do.
She blinked, trying to get a hold on her thoughts. The last thing he needed to know was that she was thinking about sex or marriage in connection with him.
“Well, there’s no need for you to dress me. I will dress myself. But tonight we need to try and look for that room my grandmother spoke of. We need to try and find the painting.”
“I agree with you. I think tonight might be the time we change the nature of this farce, don’t you?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, we have established that you are nothing more than my assistant. No one suspects that you are Princess Gabriella D’Oro, and no one has any reason to. Tonight you will be wearing a beautiful dress, and your face will be covered by a mask keeping you from being recognized... When we slip away together a little bit early, it will hardly be suspicious. At least not if I have been holding you in my arms a little bit more closely than I have for the previous nights.”
“What are you suggesting?”
“Tonight, you will play the part of my lover, Gabriella. There will be no scandal, and it will be the perfect excuse for us to slip away.”
Her throat was dry, her heart pounding so hard she was afraid it might gain enough momentum to tumble up her throat and come spilling out of her mouth. “But I...”
“You don’t know how? You don’t know how to play the part of doting lover?”
Her cheeks flamed. “I have no worries about that. I can more than handle you, Alessandro.”
“You see, when you say my full name like that, I become convinced that you are a bit more nervous than you let on.”
“And when you take on that dry tone, I begin to suspect that you are a little bit more off-kilter than you like to let on. Perhaps it is you having a difficult time figuring out how you will play the part of my lover. But don’t worry, I will be wearing a mask. So my looks shouldn’t put you off.”
“Did my kiss last night not prove to you that I don’t find you unattractive?”
“The only thing your kiss last night proved is that you very much like playing games. But I don’t like being the subject of them.”
A man like Alessandro would never want a woman like her. With her large glasses and ill-fitting clothing—the only thing she had ever worn in front of him—her face devoid of makeup, he would never look twice at her.
Likely, he had seen her as a challenge, and he had set out to conquer her. Because that’s who he was.
Well, she refused to be conquered.
“I have no problem playing the part of your lover tonight, Alex,” she said, keeping her tone frosty. “But do not get any ideas about making it real. I understand what manner of man you are. I understand what motivates you. I am a source of amusement to you, as you have made very plain. I will not allow you to amuse yourself with my body.”
Filled with a new sense of dignified rage, she stormed toward the estate. She had no idea why she was reacting this way. Had no idea why she hadn’t seen all of this before. Had she truly imagined that he had been attracted to her? That the kiss had been genuine? That the rake had gone after the wallflower?
She was as much a fool for a beautiful face as her grandmother had feared.
As much a fool as anyone in her family was. Perhaps that was the curse. Her grandmother had fallen prey to a man. And had her heart broken by him. Her mother threw herself in front of men as though she were a willing victim and they were an oncoming train. Only to find herself tangled, destroyed, after each affair. Chipping away pieces of her marriage, pieces of herself.
Perhaps, in spite of all her attention to avoid such emotions, Gabriella should have truly known better.
She rushed through the estate, heading toward her room. Once safely inside, she closed the door and locked the connecting one between her room and Alex’s. She would have to face him tonight. Tonight, she would have to pretend that she was his lover. She would need to fortify herself to cope with that.
She sat on her bed, breathing hard, anger, hurt, rising up inside of her.
But with a few breaths came clarity.
The only solution here would be to take control of the situation. Alex saw himself as above temptation, she knew that. He only gave in when he chose to. And of course, he didn’t want her.
But tonight, she would make him want her. She would. She would turn the tables.
He would be the one left unsatisfied. He would be the one who didn’t sleep because he was burning. But she would never give in to him. She would make him want her, and then, she would turn away.
She flopped backward onto the bed, a smile crossing her lips. She was incredibly satisfied with this new plan. With this vision for the future that put her much more in charge of things than she’d been previously. Yes, last night she had momentarily lost her head over Alex. And there were a few moments today when she had done so, as well.
But it would not happen again. If anyone was going to lose their head tonight, it was going to be him.
