Читать книгу The Italian's Passionate Proposal - Sarah Morgan - Страница 7

‘DOES he hit her?’ Carlo followed her down the dark staircase and back onto the streets.

‘I don’t think so.’ Zan turned sharp left and then right down a wide road that stretched along the river. ‘I think he’s just very controlling.’

‘And why does he hate hospitals so much?’

‘He’s never told me, and I don’t push it or I won’t get to see Kelly at all.’ She glanced sideways and tried not to stare.

She’d never met anyone as strikingly good-looking as Carlo before. Tall, dark-haired and loaded with sex appeal, he exuded a strength and confidence that was magnetic. If she’d had to pick one word to describe him, it would have been male. Carlo was very, very male.

And he had good shoulders.

She remembered the weight of his body when he’d lain on top of her and smiled slightly. For once she could walk home without worrying.

Who in their right mind would pick a fight with him?

Carlo was frowning. ‘Do you have to visit them?’

‘Well, if I don’t then she gets no antenatal care whatsoever,’ Zan told him, crossing over the road so that they could walk next to the river. Fairy lights had been strung between the trees and their reflection danced over the surface of the water. ‘Social Services first told me that she was pregnant, but she hasn’t seen a doctor once in her whole pregnancy. To start with Mike wouldn’t let me in, but I’ve worked on him and now I get to see her. I’m hoping that if she sees enough of me I’ll be able to get her to trust me.’

‘She needs a biophysical assessment,’ Carlo said, and Zan nodded.

He was referring to an established technique using ultrasound to look at the baby and to measure the heart-rate.

‘I know. The truth is she needs a lot of things she isn’t getting. It’s very worrying, but we can only do the best we can. It’s hard enough getting access at all.’

She felt his eyes slide over her. ‘Presumably that’s why you dress like that? Because they’re suspicious of authority?’

He was smart; she’d give him that.

‘That’s true, but I also hate walking around this area at night,’ she confessed. ‘I might be a black belt in judo but I’m not stupid. If I have to do it then I dress down and I wear trainers. If anyone suspected I was medical they’d be attacking me for drugs.’

‘It isn’t a suitable place for a woman to be working.’ His gaze darkened ominously and she chuckled.

‘Are you always this macho?’

‘Of course.’ Carlo’s arrogant dark head lifted and a wry smile touched his handsome face. ‘I’m Italian, remember? Despite our efforts to be politically correct, deep down we still expect our women to stay at home and warm the bed for us.’

The mention of bed brought a faint colour to her cheeks. Whoever warmed his bed would be a very lucky woman, but she wasn’t telling him that. ‘Someone must have forgotten to tell you that this is the twenty-first century.’

He didn’t smile, his gaze disturbingly direct. ‘It’s not a safe area for you to work in.’

He was breathtakingly good-looking and Zan was finding it hard to peel her eyes away from him.

‘I work here because it’s challenging and I’m really doing some good.’ She looked at him curiously. ‘This isn’t what you’re used to, is it? You looked pretty shocked when you saw the flat.’

He pulled a face and rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. ‘Was it that obvious?’

‘Only to me. Don’t worry about it. I was pretty shocked myself when I first came here after twenty years of middle-class upbringing. It’s a real eye-opener. Lots of teenage pregnancies, lots of unmarried mothers with several children by different men, and every flat you visit has a German shepherd dog the size of a wolf.’ She stepped gingerly over a patch of ice. ‘I suppose I’d have one, too, if I lived in this area. The dogs used to be the worst part of the job for me, but generally I’ve got used to them. Do you have dogs at home?’

He hesitated and then nodded. ‘Yes, dogs don’t bother me. So, why did you learn judo?’

Zan smiled and huddled more deeply into her coat to keep out the cold. ‘I have four older brothers. My father was going for a five-a-side rugby team but then they had me.’ She shrugged. ‘Anyway, they all decided that I needed to know how to take care of myself just in case they weren’t around to do it for me.’

‘Sensible.’

‘No, massively over-protective,’ she said dryly. ‘They’ve scared off every boyfriend I’ve ever had.’

Carlo looked at her curiously. ‘But you’re close?’

‘I adore them,’ she said simply. ‘Growing up with four big brothers was just the best thing in the world. We had such fun.’

‘But they’ve taught you to be wary of men?’

She hesitated for a moment and then nodded. ‘Yes. Yes, they have. I may love my brothers but I’d hate to be anything other than their baby sister. They’re rogues, and when they were growing up they treated women appallingly. I’ve learned lots about men by watching them. And because they know exactly how men think and act, they scare off anyone male who shows an interest in me.’

‘Ouch.’ Carlo gave a rueful smile and glanced around him at the dark shadows. ‘So can I expect to be pounced on any moment?’

Zan looked at his shoulders and laughed. ‘I don’t think you’ve got much to worry about. So, now you know about me, how about you? All I know is that you’re part-Italian. What I want to know is, which part?’

He shot her a suggestive smile that was so sexy she almost stopped breathing.

‘If you’re good, I’ll show you later.’

His teasing drawl made her blush, but she couldn’t help smiling. There was something so good-humoured and honest about him.

‘Well, judging from your slight accent and the fact that you were muttering something incomprehensible when you were lying on top of me, I assume that Italian is your first language. Which must mean that you live over there usually. So what are you doing in London?’

‘Having a change from Italy.’ His answer was so smooth and glib that she looked at him closely, wondering if he was hiding something. He caught her look and smiled. ‘Plenty of doctors from EC countries come and work in England. It isn’t unusual.’

‘So where were you working last?’

‘In a private clinic outside Milan.’ He gave a rueful smile. ‘Most of my patients were nothing like Kelly, I’m afraid.’

‘Too posh to push?’

He smiled in appreciation. ‘Something like that.’

‘Well, it was decent of you to take a look at Kelly for me.’ She glanced at him. ‘Don’t think I don’t know that most doctors would have refused. Too worried about litigation.’

Carlo looked unconcerned. ‘I’m well insured.’

And very experienced and self-confident. She also suspected that he would never refuse to help a patient. He was that type of man.

‘This is where I live.’ Zan stopped outside a block of flats and Carlo leaned against the wall, his eyes watchful.

‘So…’ he drawled softly. ‘Are you going to invite me up?’

She stared at him, caught by the intensity of his gaze. Excitement curled in the pit of her stomach and she struggled to be sensible.

‘I don’t usually invite strangers up to my flat.’

His smile had a peculiar effect on her knees and she felt them wobble alarmingly. ‘I’m very glad to hear that.’ He moved fractionally closer to her, his eyes never leaving hers. ‘But we’ve already kissed twice and spent an evening together so we’re not exactly strangers.’

She laughed to disguise her awareness of him.

‘We spent the evening in a filthy flat with a man who wanted to hit both of us. Is that your idea of a perfect first date?’

‘It was different,’ he admitted, his gaze dropping to her mouth and lingering there. ‘You can trust me, Zan.’

She hesitated, common sense wrestling with temptation.

‘I don’t know anything about you.’

Except that he was strong, clever and stunningly good-looking.

‘What do you want to know?’ He smiled down at her. ‘I’m Italian, I’m an obstetrician, I have one older brother and one younger sister. I also have a black eye.’

She smiled back and then looked at him cautiously. ‘You’re not married?’

His gaze didn’t shift from hers. ‘No wife. No kids.’

She bit her lip. Would it be such a big mistake to invite him up?

She paused a moment longer and then made up her mind. She pushed open the swing doors and led him into the deserted entrance hall. ‘I’m on the top floor.’

They walked towards the lift and she pressed the button, watching the lift doors close and wondering what on earth she was doing, taking a total stranger back to her flat.

Was she mad?

Her brothers would have thrown a fit.

But then she’d spent most of the past twenty-four years being cautious, and frankly she was getting impatient with herself. It was time she lived a little. Time she trusted her own instincts.

And her instincts about Carlo were all good.

She loved his wicked sense of humour, the way the corners of his eyes creased when he smiled, and she loved his easy confidence. There was something about him that was tough and kind and, no matter how much she tried to pretend otherwise, the fact that he’d stepped in and rescued her made her insides squishy. It might not be politically correct to have a tough man looking after you but the truth was it had felt good.

Better than good.

It would be a long time before she forgot the feel of that hard muscle pressing her down onto the snowy pavement or the taste of his warm lips as he’d kissed her.

She shivered slightly with nerves and excitement as she remembered that kiss. Until tonight she’d always thought that kissing was a very overrated pastime.

She’d obviously been kissing the wrong men.

She sneaked a sideways look at him, still finding it hard to believe that he was a doctor. All the doctors she’d ever met were mild-mannered and academic or just plain arrogant. Carlo was none of those things. He was all muscle and strength, mixed with a wickedly sexy sense of humour.

He intercepted her look and gave her a smile that reminded her of his kiss. Hot and exciting.

She dragged some air into her lungs and leaned against the wall of the lift for support. If all Italian men looked like him she was moving to Italy.

The lift pinged as it arrived at her floor and she made an effort to stand upright.

‘You’d better prepare yourself,’ she warned him as she scrabbled in her pocket for the key. ‘I call it the penthouse because it’s on the top floor and the view are great, but trust me when I say that the resemblance ends there. When I win the Lottery I’m buying something bigger. You can’t swing a cat in here…’

She pushed the key in the lock and then paused, aware that he was staring at her oddly. ‘What? What have I said?’

‘Why would you want to swing a cat?’ His accent was marked as he repeated her words. ‘I thought you English were supposed to like animals?’

‘We do. Well, some of us do.’ Zan grinned. ‘It’s just an expression.’

His eyes gleamed. ‘Totally incomprehensible language. I thought my English was good, but evidently I still have a lot to learn.’

Carlo had gorgeous eyes—very dark brown and fringed with sinfully thick, dark lashes that he used to hide his expression when it suited him. And it suited him often. She suspected that he wasn’t an easy man to read.

‘Don’t worry—I’ll teach you.’ Zan opened the door and walked into her flat, flicking on the light.

The pale wooden floor was covered in plastic packets and bags from various shops, and she shot him an embarrassed look as she started to scoop them all up.

‘You needn’t hide the packaging from me,’ he said, his tone amused. ‘I was well aware that all that baby stuff you gave her was brand-new.’

She clutched the evidence to her chest and looked at him in dismay. ‘Oh, no! I tried to rumple them and make them look old. Do you think they guessed?’

‘I think Kelly was too pleased to notice.’ He moved closer to her and removed one of the plastic wrappers from her grasp, lifting an eyebrow as he saw the price. ‘Do you always spend your money on your patients?’

She blushed and snatched the wrapper back. ‘No. Well, sometimes. I like Kelly and I feel sorry for her.’

He looked at her for a long moment and she felt the breath jam in her throat. Just looking at him made her legs shaky.

As if he’d guessed her thoughts, he gave a lopsided smile and strolled over to the huge windows that made up one wall of her tiny flat.

‘Fantastic view.’

‘Thanks.’ She tugged the hat off her head and shook her dark hair like a kitten in a rainstorm. Typical. She had a man to die for in her flat and she looked as though she’d been dunked in a puddle. ‘I’ve never bothered with curtains. No one can see in so it didn’t seem worth it.’

‘It’s a nice flat.’

She smiled. ‘Well, like I said, it’s the penthouse, but when I win the Lottery I’m buying a bigger version.’

For a moment he didn’t respond, and then he turned, a strange light in his eyes. ‘You do the Lottery? Is money important to you?’

‘No.’ She tossed the rubbish into the bin and smiled cheerfully. ‘Just what it buys. I love to dream, don’t you?’

He sucked in a breath and looked taken aback. ‘Well, I…’

‘Oh, come on!’ She tugged off her boots and coat and dropped onto the sofa, cross-legged. ‘Everyone dreams of winning the Lottery. Even people who never remember to do it!’

He was looking at her curiously, arms folded across his broad chest. ‘So what would you buy?’

‘I don’t know, the usual things…’ She shrugged. ‘A house in a better area, a car so that I don’t have to walk around at night.’

‘Would you give up your job?’

‘Oh, no!’ Her expression was horrified. ‘I love my job. And just think, if I won money I’d be able to rehouse Kelly and Mike without having to bow and scrape to Social Services all the time.’

Carlo turned back to the window. ‘You’d have a job to beat this view.’

‘Nice, isn’t it? They’ve converted so much of the Docklands area into housing and it’s a pretty good place to live.’ She glanced round her with satisfaction. She liked her flat. It was small, but it was cosy and homely and all hers. ‘Make the most of it. It’s pretty small now, but after tomorrow it’s going to get even smaller.’

‘What’s happening tomorrow?’ He moved away from the window and strolled towards her.

‘I’m buying my Christmas tree,’ she said proudly, ‘and it’s going to be big.’

‘Ah.’ He folded his arms across his chest and his sexy dark eyes twinkled at her. ‘So size matters to you?’

‘In Christmas trees, definitely.’ Zan was laughing at the innuendo and trying to control the frantic fluttering in her stomach. ‘I love everything about Christmas. I used to buy my tree on the first day of December, but the needles always fell off by Christmas Day and I got fed up with staring at decorated twigs so now I make myself wait. It’s an exercise in self-discipline. What about you? Do you like Christmas?’

He hesitated and then nodded. ‘I suppose so.’

‘But you’re sad because you won’t be at home this year?’ She tilted her head on one side and looked at him. ‘I know the feeling. I’m working this Christmas so I won’t be able to get home until New Year. But I’ve written my letter to Santa and he knows I’m here so all my presents should still arrive.’

He leaned broad shoulders against the wall and watched her, and she was breathlessly aware of how big he seemed in her tiny flat.

Big and male.

‘You’ve written to Santa?’

‘Of course! I’ve sent him my list. How else will he know what I want?’ She ticked them off on her fingers. ‘Diamond earrings, cashmere jumper, silky underwear—you know the sort of thing.’

‘Diamond earrings?’ His gaze slid down to her torn jeans. ‘You don’t strike me as a diamond earrings sort of girl.’

‘Don’t judge by appearances. I’ve never been given the chance,’ she told him gloomily. ‘With four brothers my childhood was all rugby boots and Action Man. Every single Christmas I’d get the same stuff as them. Don’t get me wrong. My parents are great and I love them. But somewhere along the line they forgot I was a girl. I would have given anything for something pink and girly.’

He blinked. ‘Pink and girly?’

‘You know, something feminine. What about you? What do you want for Christmas?’

There was a long silence, and when he finally spoke his gaze was disturbingly direct. ‘You.’ He spoke the word softly and then paused, his dark eyes holding hers. ‘I want you, Zan.’

There was a hot, pulsing silence and she stared at him, her heart in her mouth and her palms damp.

His words shocked and excited her and for a moment she had no idea how to respond. The truth was she wanted him too, but the feeling scared her.

She’d only known him for one evening.

‘I don’t do one-night stands.’

‘Good.’ His dark eyes didn’t shift from hers. ‘I’m not interested in just one night.’

She looked into those stunning dark eyes and felt her insides tumble. Suddenly overwhelmed by his directness and the intensity of her own feelings, she jumped to her feet and looked at him nervously.

He was so different from the men she normally mixed with. They seemed younger somehow. More boyish. But there was nothing boyish about Carlo. He was all man. A man who knew exactly what he wanted and went straight for it.

And she couldn’t forget the way he kissed.

‘Where did you come from?’ She wrapped her arms around her middle defensively. ‘I mean, one minute my life is thoroughly predictable and full of men who bore me to tears and then the next…’

He lifted a dark eyebrow and prompted her gently, his Italian accent suddenly pronounced, ‘The next?’

Her heart was hammering in her chest. She didn’t know which was sexier, the tone of his voice or the look in his eyes. ‘The next I find myself lying on the pavement, kissing a total stranger.’

‘Is that a complaint?’ His dark eyes teased her and her breath came in little pants.

‘Not exactly. I’m just not used to kissing in the street in front of an audience.’

‘But now we have no audience.’ He gave a smile that sent her pulse racing and she lost her nerve and took a step backwards.

‘Do you want coffee?’

‘No.’ He moved towards her, standing so close she could feel the warmth from his body against hers.

Zan’s heart was pounding frantically. Just remembering what his kiss had felt like was enough to make her knees start to tremble. He was breathtakingly attractive.

But she shouldn’t be kissing men she didn’t know.

Her eyes dropped to his mouth and her lips parted in breathless anticipation.

Or maybe she should.

Still unsure, she gave him a nervous smile. ‘I still haven’t put ice on your eye.’

‘Right now it isn’t my eye that needs the ice.’ He pulled her against him and lowered his head, their breath mingling as his mouth hovered above hers.

She shivered with expectation, waiting for him to kiss her, the excitement and anticipation stealing every breath from her body. His lips brushed hers, teasing her lightly, and he gave her a wicked smile, fully aware of the tension he was creating between them.

And then finally he kissed her properly.

And this time the kiss was different.

What they’d shared on the pavement had been exploratory and fun, but this—this was a purposeful seduction, and Zan realised immediately that if this was how kissing could feel then she’d never been kissed before.

Carlo kissed as though he’d invented excitement. The touch of his mouth was a wholly sexual experience that swamped her inexperienced body with unfamiliar sensations of such intensity that she squirmed against him in a purely female plea for satisfaction.

His mouth still on hers, he lifted her arms and wrapped them around his neck and then pulled her hard against him, his tongue delving into her mouth with devastating thoroughness, encouraging her more hesitant response.

It was the most intimate experience of her life. The skilled sweep of his tongue, the hard ridge of his erection pressed against her and the pounding of her heart against her breastbone.

She breathed in his scent, felt the roughness of his jaw against her, tasted his maleness and felt overwhelmed by a fevered desperation that defied logic.

His touch was totally addictive and when he finally dragged his mouth away from hers she sucked in some air, so shaken by her own reaction that she couldn’t bring herself to look him in the eye.

She’d never been kissed by anyone as skilled as him before.

He slid his strong fingers through her hair and tilted her head so that she was forced to look at him.

His dark eyes shimmered with raw hunger, but he veiled it quickly and gave a lopsided smile.

‘I don’t think we’d better do that for too long, cara mia,’ he said dryly. ‘We might both explode.’

Totally blown away by his kiss, Zan tried to speak and failed.

He touched her cheek with a gentle finger. ‘You know what?’ He was totally relaxed and easy with himself. ‘I could really do with taking a shower. My jeans are soaked because someone threw me on my back in a puddle.’

She loved the way he took the seriousness out of every situation. ‘You’re joking! Who would do an evil thing like that?’

‘I can’t imagine, but when I track them down they’re going to be punished.’ He pulled her against him and gave her another lingering kiss. ‘Maybe we should get out of these wet clothes before we both freeze. Can I put my jeans in your tumble-drier and take a shower?’

She nodded and gestured towards the kitchen. ‘It’s through there. Help yourself.’

His eyes were very dark. ‘Are you going to join me?’

No.

Resolving to be more daring was all very well, but you couldn’t change the habit of a lifetime in an hour!

It was all too fast.

Zan shook her head and he gave her a warm smile and strolled into her kitchen, emerging moments later with an apologetic look on his face and his jeans dangling from one hand.

‘I don’t know how to use a tumble-drier.’

Carlo’s humble confession broke the ice and she laughed, trying not to look at his tanned, strong legs. He had an incredible physique—athletic and powerful.

No wonder the muggers had run.

‘More of the macho Italian guy stuff, I suppose? Who does your washing at home? Or maybe I shouldn’t ask that question.’

‘I have a housekeeper,’ he told her, and she walked over to him and took the wet jeans out of his hand, still keeping her eyes averted.

‘Well, she hasn’t trained you very well.’ She popped them into the tumble-drier, turned the dial and started the machine. ‘I assume you know how the shower works, or does your housekeeper do that bit, too?’

His midnight-dark eyes gleamed wickedly. ‘I’m OK with the shower, but I’ve never really got the hang of undressing myself.’

No man should be allowed to have a smile that sexy. It had a lethal effect on her pulse-rate.

‘Well, if you don’t want another black eye you’d better learn quickly,’ she said, ignoring his laughter and hurrying past him. ‘I’ll fetch you a towel.’

The shower was running by the time she returned with the towel and she half opened the door and talked through the crack.

‘I’ll leave the towel on the floor.’

‘Pardon?’ His voice was muffled from the water and she leaned in slightly further, averting her eyes from the shower cubicle.

‘I said I’ll leave the towel on the floor.’

‘I can’t hear you.’

She sidled in a bit further and strong arms grabbed her and hauled her under the steaming jet of water.

‘You pig!’ Laughing and squealing, she thumped him hard, spluttering and screwing up her eyes against the water. ‘What are you doing?’

‘Economising on water.’ He was laughing, too, and she gasped as he pulled her close and kissed her, ignoring the water that was raining down on both of them.

She leaned into him and kissed him back, and suddenly the laughter stopped and the kissing intensified until their mouths fused hungrily, the chemistry a living, powerful force between them.

Her whole body was singing with excitement and suddenly she was breathlessly aware of his arousal and the fact that he was totally naked.

An unbearable ache was building between her thighs, but when she felt his fingers on the zip of her soaked jeans she reached down and grabbed his hands, stopping him.

What was she doing?

His skill and experience had her at flashpoint in seconds, but the speed with which he could reduce her to a shivering mass of desperation made her nervous. She’d only ever kissed boys before and Carlo certainly wasn’t that. He was a fully adult male and he wasn’t playing games.

‘Wait—it’s too fast…’ The water was streaming over her hair and down her back and he reached out a hand to stem the flow, speaking softly to her in Italian as he held her against him.

‘You want me to stop?’ He switched to English and she struggled to control her response.

‘Yes— No…’ She was shaking against him and he gave a groan and slid a warm hand over her back.

‘Have you any idea how much I want you?’

Zan gave him a shaky smile, breathlessly aware of his masculinity. He had a fantastic body. His confidence with his own sexuality was in complete contrast to her own inexperience and she felt completely out of her depth.

From the moment she’d stared into his eyes in the snowy street she’d decided that even if she only had sex once in her whole life, she wanted it to be with this man. But now that the moment had come she felt hideously unsure.

Carlo probably thought that any woman who was prepared to kiss him in a public place was equally experienced and relaxed about sex.

She was still panicking when she felt a warm, soft towel draped around her shoulders.

‘Take off your wet jeans and go and put on your least provocative outfit,’ Carlo said, his voice infinitely gentle as he stepped back and let her step out of the shower.

She bit her lip and looked at him anxiously. ‘I…thought we were going to…’

‘Well, we’re not,’ he said softly. ‘At least, not yet. You’re not totally sure and I want you to be totally sure.’

She hesitated and shook her head, painfully self-conscious. ‘It’s just a bit fast. I don’t know you— I can’t—’

‘So we slow it down.’

He made it sound perfectly simple and she looked at him shyly, surprised that he wasn’t more annoyed with her. ‘And you’re OK with that?’

‘Well, I’ll need a lot of cold showers,’ he admitted ruefully, ‘but we’ve already agreed that if I step out of line you can black my other eye, so I’ll do my best to hold back as long as I can. Now, go and get dressed quickly.’

When Zan arrived back in the sitting room Carlo had the towel wrapped around his hips, his black hair damp and tousled from the shower as he flicked through her CD collection.

‘Carlo.’ She came to a halt in front of him, her smile hesitant. ‘Are you angry?’

He glanced up. ‘Of course not.’ He seemed surprised by the question. ‘Why would I be?’

Zan thought of all the conversations she’d overheard when her brothers hadn’t known she was listening, and bit her lip.

‘Because I made you think that I… I’m sorry if you thought I… I didn’t mean to lead you on…’

Ebony brows came together in a frown. ‘You are always entitled to say no, cara mia.’

‘But I didn’t want to say no,’ she said quickly, a blush touching her cheek. ‘Not exactly. But it all seemed a bit quick and— I know you’re very confident, but, you see, I’ve never actually done it before.’

She broke off, painfully aware of the stunned expression in his gorgeous eyes.

She should never have told him.

The silence seemed to stretch for ever, and when he finally spoke his voice was rough.

‘Then I’m doubly pleased that your first time wasn’t in a shower, tesoro. We can do a great deal better than that when the time comes.’

She looked at him, her heart missing a beat as the warmth in his eyes and the full implication of his words hit her.

‘You still want to?’

‘What do you think?’ Carlo moved towards her and cupped her face in his hands. ‘I’m sorry if I moved too fast. It never occurred to me that—’

‘I didn’t want to tell you. I thought it might put you off,’ she muttered, and he laughed.

‘In that case, you have a great deal to learn about Italian men, cara mia.’ He looked into her face, smug male satisfaction reflected in his dark eyes. ‘We are a hideously jealous, possessive race. We are not good at sharing. We like a woman to be ours and ours alone.’

His alone.

The thought sent heat flaring through Zan and she pulled away from him. ‘I’ll see if your trousers are dry.’

He followed her to the kitchen, leaning broad shoulders against the doorway as he watched her.

‘I cannot believe that you’re still a virgin,’ he observed, lush dark lashes shielding his gorgeous eyes. ‘Your brothers obviously did a good job at protecting you.’

She reached into the tumble-drier and dragged out his trousers. ‘Every time a boy became remotely interested in me they worked really hard to scare him off. Amazing teamwork and family unity. They succeeded every time.’

He lifted an eyebrow. ‘And the men in question were willing to be scared off?’

She handed him the trousers and their fingers brushed together. ‘I suppose they were boys, really, and my brothers must have been pretty daunting.’

‘And what about now you’re grown-up?’

‘Now they just rely on my natural wariness to keep me out of mischief.’ She looked at him anxiously, suddenly aware that she’d only known him for a few hours. How had she ever let him so close to her so quickly?

‘It’s OK, Zan.’ His voice was incredibly gentle. ‘I don’t go off with women I’ve just met either. We’ll take this slowly and see where it ends up.’

The thought of where it might end up sent her stomach dropping to the floor.

‘Do you want some coffee?’

Maybe caffeine would clear her mind.

‘What sort of coffee?’ His gorgeous eyes narrowed and he looked at her suspiciously. ‘At home we clean floors with what you English call coffee.’

She stuck her chin in the air and gave him a superior look. ‘I’ll have you know I make the best cappuccino in London—’

‘Well, that isn’t saying much— Ouch!’ He winced as she thumped him and his eyes creased with humour. ‘In that case, I’ll put my jeans on while you make it.’

She made two steaming mugs of cappuccino, tipped some home-made shortbread onto a plate and walked back into the living room.

Carlo sprawled on the cushions by the floor-to-ceiling window, staring down at the Thames.