Читать книгу The Italian's Ruthless Baby Bargain - Маргарет Майо - Страница 6

CHAPTER TWO

‘MY WIFE is dead,’ Santo told Penny coldly. ‘And for your information I have no intention of ever marrying again.’ Without more ado he began walking back to-wards the house.

For a few seconds all Penny could do was stare after him. She saw shoulders that were hunched and a stride that was not his usual determined one. She felt like hell. What a stupid, inconsiderate question to have asked. What must he be thinking?

She really had overstepped the mark and wouldn’t be surprised if he told her to pack her bags and go. And she didn’t want to do that. She must make amends. Hurrying after him, she said, ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t know. I wouldn’t have asked if—’

Abruptly he stopped and faced her. ‘And you didn’t think it would be wise to get your facts right before passing judgement?’ His tone was harsher than she had ever heard it, dark eyes unfathomable. A tall, proud man, incensed at the way he had been spoken to.

Penny guessed he was still grieving. It must have been fairly recent. Maybe that was why he worked such long hours, why he didn’t seem to be giving his daughter the love and attention that she needed. He wanted to blot everything out and the only way he could do it was to work himself into the ground.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said again, feeling her heart bounce in her chest, feeling a raw kind of pity for him. She wanted to hug him—how ridiculous was that? She wanted to tell him that time would heal. She knew how heartbroken she’d felt when her mother had died.

But he didn’t want to hear those words. He wanted someone responsible to look after Chloe. He had a business to run, he couldn’t look after her himself. He didn’t know how. He’d never had to do it. He was the breadwinner. The man of the house. The provider.

‘Forget it,’ he growled, and headed back to the house.

Penny didn’t follow this time. She waited a few minutes before retracing her steps and then ran swiftly up to her room.

She couldn’t help wondering what Santo’s wife had been like. There were no photographs anywhere, nothing to remind him of her. Was that deliberate? Was he the sort of man who couldn’t cope with death? Pretended it didn’t exist? So many questions with no answers.

When Penny got up the next morning, not surprisingly Santo had already gone to work. She’d not slept well with thoughts of the way she had upset him last night, and as she got Chloe ready for school she gave the girl an extra-big hug.

Chloe looked so much like her father, with jet-black hair and big brown eyes—which were sometimes sad. Penny knew that the little girl must be hurting deep down inside, bewildered as well, because how could you really explain to a child of her age that her mother would never be coming back?

It wasn’t for her to say anything, though. If Chloe wanted to talk, fair enough, but she had no intention of bringing up the subject.

After dropping Chloe off at school she did some shopping and visited her sister before going back to De Luca Manor—as she had privately named Santo’s house. It was hard to believe that one man lived in such a huge mansion. Why? Unless he entertained a lot, or had done when his wife was alive.

At the back of the house was a row of garages—she’d been allotted one for her tiny car—and Penny was surprised to see Santo’s sleek black Aston Martin already parked there. He was home! At this time of day? She glanced at her watch. It was scarcely lunch time.

‘Where have you been?’ he growled the second she entered the house. It looked as though he’d been waiting for her. His black hair was ruffled and she could imagine those long fingers running impatiently through it.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said, jutting her chin, resenting the inference that she should have been in when he arrived home. ‘I didn’t realise I had to keep you informed of my movements. Actually I’ve been to see my sister. You did say my free time was during the day.’

‘I thought I’d take you out to lunch.’

Penny couldn’t hide her shock. ‘Me? Why?’ A nanny lunch with her boss? It was unheard-of, especially with a man such as Santo.

‘Because we didn’t finish our conversation last night,’ he answered. ‘But if you’d rather not, then…’ He lifted his wide shoulders in a careless shrug.

‘I’m sorry about last night; I—’

Santo cut her short. ‘The subject’s closed. Go and get rid of your bags. We’re leaving in ten minutes.’

Meaning he didn’t want to talk about his loss. And she could hardly blame him. People dealt with their grief differently. Santo clearly wanted to shut his away.

Penny scurried to her room. It didn’t seem right lunching with him, but who was she to argue? She ran a comb through her hair but didn’t bother to change. She was already wearing a long brown skirt and a pretty peasant blouse, both fairly new purchases and perfectly suitable. All she did was change her sandals to a pair of high heels and with a touch of lip gloss and a splash of perfume she was ready.

Was her heart racing because she had rushed? Penny wondered as she ran lightly down the curved flight of stairs towards Santo, standing in the huge hallway. Or was it racing because she was about to dine with him?

The hall below was elegant and beautiful with a polished wooden floor and a centre table holding a bowl of sweet-smelling roses cut straight from the garden. There was a rocking chair in one corner and ornately framed mirrors on two of the walls.

But at this very moment she saw none of it; she saw only Santo’s unsmiling face. Unsmiling but indescribably handsome. She couldn’t believe that she was actually going out with him. In all her years of being a nanny nothing like this had ever happened.

On the other hand she had never worked for anyone like Santo before. This was a man apart. And because he was different her heart was hammering so hard that it felt painful against her ribcage.

When the agency had asked if she’d take this job she had said yes without any qualms. What they hadn’t told her was what Santo De Luca was like. They hadn’t said he was one of the richest men in the country. They hadn’t told her that he was gorgeous-looking. They had told her nothing. Maybe if they had she would have run a mile. Or she might have been so intrigued that she’d have taken the job anyway.

Santo watched Penny as she descended the stairs; he watched each step she took. He looked at the way she pointed her toes, he looked at her slender ankles, at the soft material of her skirt as it brushed against her thighs. His blood whistled through his veins. He watched the movement of her breasts beneath the flowered cotton top and his heart missed a couple of beats. Then he looked up and caught her eye.

She was smiling.

She looked as though she was happy to go out with him. Which both surprised and pleased him. Last night he had spoken harshly and regretted it immediately afterwards. She had caught him on the raw.

One day he might tell her that he and his wife had been divorced for almost four years, that any love he had ever felt for her had been killed long before then. And that Helena hadn’t even told him that he had a daughter! If he’d known he’d have helped out, he’d have got to know his daughter, he wouldn’t be in the helpless position he was in now.

His feelings when he’d discovered the truth were of sheer disbelief and outrage. He’d found it hard to accept that she had done such a thing to him. He’d never realised how much she had hated him. Even thinking about it, reliving that moment when he made his discovery, twisted his guts.

Thank goodness for Penny. Fiery and spirited without the least interest in him, which made a refreshing change. He was so used to women hanging on to his every word, fighting to make themselves noticed, trying to trick their way into his bed, that Penny was like a breath of fresh air.

No doubt she thought him an uncaring father, but the truth was he felt simply helpless. He didn’t know the first thing about bringing up children. He’d had no contact with kids since he had been one himself. They were a mystery to him.

‘Good,’ he said, ‘a woman who doesn’t take hours to get ready. I’m impressed.’

‘I haven’t changed, I hope I’m all right. We’re not going anywhere too posh, are we?’

She seemed faintly worried and Santo smiled reassuringly. ‘You’re not to worry about anything; you look incredible.’ Had he really said that? He’d have to watch himself. This wasn’t a date. She intrigued him and he was looking forward to finding out more about her but that was all. Even then she didn’t have to tell him anything about herself if she didn’t want to.

Except that he wanted to know!

He’d summoned his chauffeur while Penny was getting ready and he led her out to the waiting Bentley, smiling to himself as her eyes widened, well aware that his wealth impressed her.

She slipped into one side, he into the other, and they sank into the luxurious cream leather. The light floral scent of her perfume was evocative, teasing his nostrils like nothing else. And he knew that forever afterwards this particular perfume would always remind him of her.

Penny was on edge, her hands clasped firmly in her lap, her knees and feet together, her back straight. She hadn’t expected the limousine and the chauffeur or she definitely would have changed. This was very alien, and she prayed that he wasn’t going to take her somewhere equally classy.

‘Relax,’ he growled softly in her ear, ‘I won’t bite, I promise.’

Penny edged away, unable to stop herself, missing his frown but aware that he didn’t approve. It was that infinitesimal stiffening of his body that gave him away. He wasn’t used to a woman moving away from him, rather the opposite. Part of Penny, a large part, didn’t want to move away. Heaven help her, but she wanted to find out what it would feel like to be held against his hard, hot body, bound to him by arms of steel, but she knew where such pleasures could lead. She was entirely out of his league; he would use her and then discard her, the way Max had done. And she had no wish to go through that again.

Men didn’t have the same sort of feelings that women had. Their emotions weren’t involved when they embarked on affairs. They could walk away at the end without getting hurt. Not so for the female sex.

‘Where are we going?’ she asked, and was horrified to hear the husky throb in her voice.

‘To one of my favourite bistros.’

A bistro. That wouldn’t be so bad. Her breathing got easier. ‘Why aren’t you driving?’

He gave one of his twisted smiles where his mouth went up on one side and his eyes crinkled at the corners, making him look almost boyish. ‘Because of parking. You know what London’s like.’

‘We could have taken the tube.’ And then she laughed at his shocked expression. ‘I presume you never take the tube anywhere?’

‘Not these days,’ he admitted.

Not since he’d made his fortune, thought Penny. She could have made some comment about his carbon footprint but she didn’t. ‘Actually it’s nice to be driven like this,’ she declared instead, giving a little bounce on her seat.

‘I noticed your car was pretty ancient,’ he said, still with that half-smile.

Penny shrugged. ‘Nannies’salaries don’t lead to new cars. Though,’ she added daringly, ‘if I stay with you long enough I might be able to afford one.’

‘I’ll buy you one,’ he said at once.

Penny’s mouth fell open and she stared at him. He’d said it as though it meant nothing. Which it probably didn’t. Not to him. But hell would freeze over before she’d let him do that.

‘You look surprised.’

‘As indeed I am,’ she replied. ‘Why would you want to do a thing like that? My car’s perfectly reliable. I don’t need another one just yet.’

‘So you’re rejecting my offer?’

He actually looked offended, thought Penny. ‘I am, most definitely.’

‘Some of the nannies I’ve employed have not owned a car,’ he informed her, ‘so there’s one in the garage bought solely for the purpose of ferrying my daughter around. You’re welcome to use it.’

‘No thanks,’ said Penny promptly, ‘but you can buy my petrol, I’ll let you do that.’

Dark brows slid up. ‘A woman with morals. A refreshing change. I like it.’

Penny wished her heart wouldn’t thump so loudly; she was afraid he might hear it. ‘There are a few of us left,’ she tossed smartly, flashing him a sideways glance.

If only he wasn’t sitting so close! There was space between them, yes, several inches in fact, but not enough. She could feel the warmth of him even with the air-conditioning, and her senses were attuned in a way that alarmed her.

She was tempted to edge towards the door but didn’t want to give herself away. All she had to do was remember that this was a business lunch. They were going to discuss exactly what he expected of her where his daughter was concerned. Just that. Nothing else. Not themselves, nothing personal.

So why was she worried?

‘You’re still not relaxed, Penny.’

She jerked her head round. He was watching her. Those incredible dark eyes were smiling and she knew that he had sensed her unease. More than that, he’d seen how rigid her body was, how her hands were still locked. She could hardly believe herself. She was behaving in a totally alien manner. Usually she was brimming with confidence, nothing ever fazed her.

Except this man.

Damn! What did he have that was different—apart from great wealth, of course? But that shouldn’t have made her feel like a dithering wreck. What he did have, in spades, was sex appeal. And it was this that was troubling her.

She had never encountered anyone like Santo De Luca before. Plenty of men were good-looking, were good company, were great guys, were fun, and some even thought they were God’s gift to women. But Santo was like none of these, he was in a different class entirely.

At school she’d been in the drama group and, although she’d done no acting since, Penny knew that she would have to act now as she’d never done before. So she smiled, and she shrugged, and she said, ‘It’s unnerving having lunch with your employer after only one day. I feel like I’m under the spotlight, as though I’m going to be interrogated. Am I?’

‘We’ll talk about whatever you want to talk about,’ he answered easily, his incredible eyes locking into hers.

To Penny’s relief the car slowed to a halt. But her relief was short-lived when they entered the bistro. An informal restaurant was her idea of a bistro. Tables on the pavement, tables inside with checked tablecloths, candles in bottles with melted wax down their sides, everything nice and casual.

This was nothing like it.

To begin with it looked expensive, terribly expensive. The room was large, airy and formal. Tablecloths were white damask, the tables spaced well apart; there were fresh flowers on them and the silverware gleamed. You wouldn’t get a bowl of fries here, that was for sure. Foie gras and caviare looked more in keeping. But she held her head high and pretended that she was used to walking into such stylish places.

If only! One meal here would probably cost a whole week’s wages.

Santo was greeted with a warm handshake and respect, making it evident that he was a regular customer.

‘This isn’t what I expected,’ she said after they had been shown to their table.

‘It’s not to your liking?’ he asked immediately. ‘We can go somewhere else if—’

‘It’s not that,’ Penny cut in. ‘I expected something a little less formal. I wouldn’t actually call this a bistro.’

‘To me it’s a bistro,’ he said easily. ‘It’s very relaxed here. And the food, it is squisito.’ He circled his thumb and finger. ‘You will like it, I promise you.’

Why are you doing this? she wanted to ask. Are you trying to impress me? She hoped he wasn’t after something else. Fancying him was one thing but she would never allow herself to be compromised.

But she was worrying for nothing. Santo was a gentleman. He discussed the menu with her, passionately, and their food was perfect in every way. By the end of the meal she was totally relaxed.

They had talked about anything and everything except themselves. She did enquire which part of Italy he came from, which she discovered was Rome, but he had noticeably clammed up at that point. She didn’t dare ask whether he had parents still alive, brothers or sisters, and she’d posed no further questions. Though she couldn’t help but be intrigued.

On the other hand he had found out that her favourite colour was brown. ‘Brown?’ he’d asked incredulously. ‘It cannot be your favourite. I can see you in something sky-blue or aquamarine, something to bring out the fantastic colour of your eyes. Have you ever tried those colours?’

Fantastic colour of her eyes! What else had he noticed about her? It was a scary thought. She didn’t like the idea of her employer observing something so personal.

‘Most of my wardrobe is in autumn colours,’ she admitted, ‘and this—’ she spread her hands, looking down at the skirt she wore, and her cream blouse with its tiny brown flowers ‘—is one of my favourite outfits.’

The moment the words were out Penny regretted them. Her blouse had a drawstring neckline and sat quite low on her shoulders, and she had drawn Santo’s attention to it. She could feel his eyes on her breasts, which to her dismay hardened and tingled, and she couldn’t help wondering how it would feel to have his fingers stroke them. The very thought set her senses sizzling and pulses pounding and it was with an effort that she dashed it away.

Surely it was time they went. She couldn’t sit here thinking these thoughts any longer. She glanced at her watch. ‘I mustn’t be late picking up Chloe.’

‘And I must get back to work. I’ve enjoyed your company, Penny. I feel I know you much better now. It will be a pleasure allowing you to look after my daughter.’

‘You could always pick her up from school yourself,’ suggested Penny cautiously. ‘She’d like that.’

But Santo shook his head. ‘I have another meeting at three. Edward will drive you home. I can walk from here.’

‘And will you be home before Chloe goes to bed?’ enquired Penny.

‘I’m not sure. Probably not. Say goodnight to her for me.’

‘Chloe hardly sees you,’ she told him. ‘It’s really not fair on her, the hours you work. It would be nice if you tried to make more of an effort to see her.’ Then she clapped a hand to her mouth. ‘I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. It’s none of my business.’

‘You’re damn right it’s none of your business,’ he responded fiercely, his brown eyes losing the softness that had lingered during their meal. ‘I wouldn’t be where I am today and Chloe wouldn’t have the life she does if I didn’t work the hours I do.’

But you no longer need to, thought Penny, though she wisely kept the words to herself.

Amazingly, though, he wasn’t late home. Chloe was in bed admittedly, but it was only a little after eight and Penny was sitting outside with a book on her lap. It was a warm balmy evening and through the trees in the distance she could see the evening sun glinting on the lake and she couldn’t stop counting her blessings that she had been given this job.

Many of her friends would have found the solitude boring. They liked people and music and parties, but she was not missing them. Not yet at any rate. Or was it perhaps something else that attracted her—perhaps it was the man of the house himself?

She was sworn off men, so why she felt this pull towards Santo she had no idea. She’d met plenty of good-looking men in the course of her work and had felt nothing for them. Only Santo had made her senses run wild.

For a few seconds she closed her eyes and pictured his face. She could see him as he’d sat across from her at the restaurant. Those amazing dark eyes that could fill a woman with excitement without a word being said.

Even thinking about him sent a burning sensation through her lower body, made her head fall back and the tip of her tongue moisten suddenly dry lips. Oh, hell, she thought, was this really happening?

‘Penny.’

The voice was soft—and close! She was imagining it!

Then a hand touched her shoulder.

It was real!

‘Penny, are you all right?’

‘Santo!’ Her eyes snapped open and without even realising it she used his name for the first time. ‘You startled me. I—I didn’t hear you come in.’

‘Evidently,’ he said, his rich, deep voice throbbing through her veins.

It was the sexiest voice she had ever heard. And she couldn’t help wondering what it would be like if he were whispering words of love. She felt sure that it could quite easily make her climax without him even touching her.

What a crazy situation.

‘What were you thinking?’

‘Nothing,’ she answered quickly. ‘You’re home early.’

His mouth twisted wryly. ‘I took your advice. I thought I’d see Chloe before she went to bed, but it looks as though I’m too late.’

‘You’ve only missed her by about half an hour,’ Penny informed him, struggling for composure. At least talking about his daughter gave her time to rationalise her breathing.

To her dismay he pulled a chair close to hers and sat down. ‘Then it’s just you and me.’ He looked relaxed for a change, younger, less severe, and because of the way she’d been thinking earlier it made her want to—to what?

Touch her fingers to his cheek, explore the contours? See what it felt like to be kissed by a real man. Lord, this hadn’t happened to her since Max. She’d deliberately built a defensive wall and now it was crumbling fast.

She couldn’t do this, she mustn’t allow herself to once more fall for the wrong man. Santo wouldn’t be interested in her long-term. All he saw was a babysitter for his daughter, someone to take the weight off his shoulders. And if he could enjoy the pleasures of her body in the meantime—why not?

Now, where had those thoughts come from? He hadn’t shown the slightest inclination to want to kiss her. But men were men. She knew that. Men took advantage of situations.

And her instincts proved correct when he leaned towards her, when his mouth was inches away from hers. She could see the pores in his skin, faintly smell cedar wood, and the whites of his eyes were so clear that—that she had to get away before she was lost in them.

Heavens! This wasn’t really happening. It couldn’t be. She’d only been here two days. He wouldn’t pounce on her like that, surely? Risk the fact that he might send her running.

And she was right. He gave a satisfied smile and then sat back in his seat.

But she’d given herself away. She’d given him a hold over her. He knew that he could take her any time he wanted to.

‘Excuse me, I think I’d better go and check on Chloe,’ she said, jumping to her feet. She was gone in seconds, fleeing as fast as her legs would carry her, her heart pounding. Letting Santo see how she felt had been a big mistake. One he might take advantage of.

And she wasn’t wrong.

She looked in on Chloe to find her sleeping like an angel, a faint smile on her lips, her black hair, so much like her father’s, spread across the pillow. She was a sweet child and Penny couldn’t see why Santo didn’t devote more of his time to her, why he insisted on working long hours and getting someone else to look after his daughter.

Leaving the nursery, her head down, her mind still intent on what she saw as Chloe’s misfortune, Penny bumped straight into Santo. The sudden contact whipped the breath from her body and though his arms steadied her she felt as if her legs were about to buckle.

‘What’s the hurry?’ he asked, concern in his voice. ‘Is Chloe all right?’

Penny nodded. Everything was all right except these dangerous feelings flooding her system. A response that rocked her. Ricocheted a hot sizzle of awareness through every bone in her body.

‘Then it has to be you—or me—or both of us?’ His dark eyes filled with amusement and before she could guess at his intent, before she could protest or even draw breath, he lowered his head and captured her softly parted lips.

Penny had always known that Santo’s kisses would be sensational; nevertheless she wasn’t prepared for the whirlpool of exquisite pleasure that wreaked havoc inside her. The way her world began to spin until she felt sure that she would fly out into orbit if he carried on.

For so many years she had told herself that no man would ever get through to her again—and yet it was happening.

Now! And she had no control over it.

Santo had reached into the deepest recesses of her mind and turned it around so that she was once again a woman with needs that required satisfying, fully and deeply.

When he pushed open a door and urged her inside Penny realised they were in his bedroom. One tiny part of her mind railed against what was happening, the other exalted in the crescendo of feelings that were tipping her over the edge into a world where nothing else mattered except this moment in time.

And instead of fighting him she gave herself up to the erotic sensation of Santo’s kisses, breathing his name against his mouth, feeling the fire he had ignited take hold until it consumed her whole body. There was no room for questions, for wondering what was possessing her, all she wanted was to give in to the heated feelings that ravaged her senses.

Santo led her over to the bed, pulling her against him as they lay down, lifting one powerful leg over hers, tucking her head into his shoulder. It was a big bed, deep and comfortable, and Penny closed her eyes, forgetting where she was and what she was doing. All that mattered was Santo’s hot body next to hers, the throb of their passion that must surely be loud in the room.

With gentle fingers he traced the contours of her face. The urgency of that first kiss had gone; he was exploring now, gentle kisses followed his fingertips, and Penny relaxed against him, giving herself up to the magic of the moment, urging her body ever closer against his.

He found her mouth again in a kiss that shattered her senses, made her writhe against him and call out his name. She clawed her fingers into his hair and felt such a surge of emotion that it scared her. She hardly knew this man and yet here she was in his bed, enjoying his kisses as though he was the only man in the world.

With all the strength she could muster Penny pushed Santo away. This mustn’t happen; she couldn’t let it. It was the worst form of insanity.