Читать книгу Undressed by the Billionaire - Susanne James - Страница 13

ETHAN realised how much he had misjudged Susannah when his housekeeper, having returned with a fresh plate of food, took him to one side to inform him that she was glad to see how happy the piccola signorina was now the lights were on.

The way the older woman had held his gaze suggested more than the fact that Savannah was a guest with particular tastes to accommodate, or even that his housekeeper liked the young singer and wanted to make her stay as comfortable as possible. It was more the type of look the older generation gave the younger in Italy—and would sometimes be accompanied by tapping the side of the nose. Naturally, the older woman wouldn’t dream of being so familiar with him, but she had got her message across. He’d brushed off her inquisitiveness with a rare smile.

Some time ago he had come to understand and even envy the Italian nation’s fixation with love. And how could he be angry with Savannah, when all it took to make him smile was to watch her sucking her fingers with gusto before devouring another sandwich? Savannah had transformed the palazzo in the short time she’d been here, filling it with good things and raising the spirits of his staff. It wouldn’t last when she’d gone, of course, but she had unlocked one small portion of his heart, which was good news for his staff.

‘It is a beautiful room, isn’t it?’

As Savannah lifted her head with surprise, he realised he was seeing things through her eyes and how different things could be if he decided to make them so.

She’d go mad with grief if she heard that Ethan had returned to his old ways when she went home. And that wasn’t overreaction, it was pure, hard fact, Savannah concluded, blushing when, having held the door for his housekeeper, Ethan remained leaning against the door frame with his powerful arms folded across his chest, watching her.

Her body reacted as if Ethan had just made the most indecent suggestion. His tight fitting T-shirt strained hard across his chest, and his jeans were secured with a heavy-duty belt. She had noticed all this in the space of a few seconds, and started nervously when Ethan moved.

‘More sandwiches?’ he suggested, strolling across the room towards her.

She was as tense as a doe at bay, Savannah realised, sitting straight. ‘No, thank you.’

And then she decided she had better get up and clear some space on the table for all the new food, but being nervous and clumsy she moved erratically, and somehow a chair leg got in her way. Ethan called out, but it was too late, and as he reached out to grab her to stop her falling she ended up in his arms.

‘Suddenly you’ve got more legs than a millipede, and each one of them travelling in a different direction,’ he suggested.

‘Pretty much,’ she admitted, though the millipede analogy failed to grow on her. A better woman would have made the most of this opportunity, while all she could think was had she cleaned her teeth?

‘Well, I’m still hungry,’ he admitted, letting her go and heading back to the sofa.

She watched him stretch out his muscular legs, knowing she had never felt more awkward in her life. And yes—thank the dentist’s warnings—she had cleaned her teeth, but Savannah Ross was about to play host to Ethan Alexander? It hardly seemed possible.

‘Won’t you help me?’ He glanced her way as he reached for a sandwich. ‘My housekeeper clearly thinks we both need feeding up.’

Or perhaps the older woman wanted to keep him here, Savannah thought, surprising herself with this reflection. They ate in silence until Savannah put down her napkin with a sigh of contentment. The hearty feed had reminded her of home.

‘You were hungry,’ Ethan commented, wiping his lips on a napkin.

As he continued to stare at her, Savannah’s cheeks heated up. They were still talking about food, weren’t they?

Of course they were, she reasoned, smoothing out her hair, or rather the tangles. What must Ethan think of her, bare faced and barely dressed? Having never entertained a man before whilst naked beneath a robe, she wasn’t too sure of the protocol. And as Ethan still showed no sign of going anywhere, she suggested, ‘Why don’t I switch on the television?’ Maybe they’d catch the news, she reasoned.

‘The television?’

‘I just thought maybe there would be a news report about the match … or us.’ Her cheeks fired up as Ethan gave her a look. The word ‘us’ couldn’t have carried more embarrassing weight had it tried.

‘I try to escape the news when I’m here.’ Ethan’s tone was a chilling return to his former manner.

‘But surely not items affecting your business—or world affairs—or sport?’ She was running out of options, wishing she knew how to turn the clock back so she could remove all reference to ‘us’.

‘No,’ he said bluntly. ‘And, Savannah, I need to tell you something.’

By which time she’d switched on the set. Her timing was impeccable, Savannah realised, recoiling as she blenched. ‘Why, that’s ridiculous!’ A news item had just flashed up on the screen. A news item featuring Ethan Alexander caught out, so the reporters said, with his latest squeeze, a young ingénue only recently signed to his record label.

‘How could such a nice evening end so badly?’ Ethan wondered, glancing at her.

Now she knew why he hadn’t wanted her to turn it on. ‘How can you take it so well?’

‘Because I know what to expect. That’s one of the reasons I came to find you. I wanted to tell you myself before you found out by some other means. But now …’ Leaning across her, picking up the remote-control and pointing it at the set, he switched it off.

‘Shouldn’t we know everything before we do that?’ Savannah exclaimed. Terrible lies were being told about them. ‘Don’t you care what they’re saying about us?’

‘Do I care about gossip?’

‘Gossip? They’re telling lies!’

Ethan responded calmly. ‘What are they going to do? They’ll soon tire of us, and in no time those pictures will be wrapped around somebody’s fish and chips.’

‘A famous tycoon saves the girl with the golden tonsils, blushes, in front of a worldwide television audience?’ Savannah stuck a finger in her mouth to show what she thought of that. ‘A story like that could run and run.’

‘Gossip only hurts you if you allow it to,’ Ethan told her evenly. ‘And if you’re going to let it get you down like this, Savannah, perhaps you should have another think about pursuing a career in the public eye.’

Were those her marching orders? She went cold immediately, thinking of all the people who had helped her along the way and who would be badly let down if she quit. ‘But the press say we’re sleeping together.’ Surely that would get through to him?

Ethan’s brow rose seductively. ‘Is that so bad?’

He shouldn’t tease her. Savannah’s cheeks flushed crimson the moment he put the thought of them being sexually involved into her head. And why was he doing that when he had vowed not to think of Savannah as anything other than a young girl under his protection? Was it because sometimes a deeper feeling than common sense took the lead?

Before he had a chance to reason it through she begged him to switch on the set again so she could know the worst. She made him smile inwardly. Her voice was shaking with anger, not fear, and her hands were balled into fists as if she would like to punch out the screen. She was new to this, he remembered. ‘You know what they’re saying and so do I,’ he soothed, ‘So let them get on with it.’

‘No,’ she shot back fiercely. ‘We have to issue a denial.’

‘We have something to deny?’ he queried, pouncing on her naivety before it had a chance to take root. Picking up the remote-control which she had cunningly reclaimed, he tossed it out of her reach.

Gradually she relaxed, hopefully seeing the sense behind his years of doing battle with the press. ‘Thank goodness my parents are away,’ she said, confirming this.

She looked so grateful it drove home the message that Savannah came from a strong and loving family. He couldn’t shake a lingering sense of loss for something he’d never had. But her desire to go out and slay dragons soon distracted him. The expression on her face was so appealing.

It took Savannah a moment to realise Ethan was laughing. It was the first time she’d heard him laugh, without it being an ugly or mocking sound. ‘What’s so funny?’

He shook his head, unable to speak for a moment. ‘The infamous hard man and his teenage songbird?’ he managed at last. ‘They make us sound like something out of a novel.’

‘And I’m not a teenager,’ Savannah pointed out. ‘I was twenty last week.’

‘Twenty?’ Ethan’s face stilled. ‘As old as that?’

‘Well, I’m not some teenage tweety-pie, if that’s what you think—and I think we should sue them,’ she said seriously, which only made him start laughing again.

‘You can if you like,’ Ethan suggested between bouts of laughter.

Using magic beans to pay the lawyers, presumably. But as she had a leading role in this mess she was determined to do something about it.

‘From my point of view.’

‘Yes?’ Savannah stared intently at Ethan, ready to jump into armour and fight at his side at the first sign he was preparing to take on the press.

‘I think you should ignore it, as I will. Unless—’ he held up his hands when she was about to leap in ‘—they become a nuisance, in which case I shall act.’

That was just so disappointing. She didn’t want to sit back and have rubbish thrown at her. She was about to challenge Ethan’s decision when a knock came at the door and her bags from the stadium arrived.

‘I haven’t let you down yet, have I?’ Ethan demanded as she checked them over. ‘And I’m not about to start now. And where this newspaper rubbish is concerned you’ll just have to try something new.’

‘Such as?’ Lifting her head, she stared at him.

‘You could try trusting me.’

‘But we’re trapped here,’ she pointed out.

‘Yes, in this terrible place,’ Ethan mocked gently. ‘Poor us.’

He only had to say this for warning darts of fire to attack every part of her, and each tiny arrow carried a subtle message. She wanted him, but confronted by Ethan’s worldiness, and by the thought of staying under his roof, she grabbed the edges of her robe and tugged it firmly shut. ‘Haven’t they’ve got anything better to do than speculate about us?’

‘They’re only doing their job,’ Ethan pointed out. ‘We’re newsworthy. You. Me. Both of us together. Now that’s a real story.’

‘But this isn’t a real story. They’ve twisted the truth and made innocent photographs seem so …’

‘Suggestive?’

She hadn’t wanted to say that, and when Ethan looked at her a certain way she wished she hadn’t. Prior to this she had been sure Ethan thought of her as a ward beneath his protection, and the thought that he was now looking at her as a woman was unsettling. It might be everything she had ever dreamed of, but as fantasy hurtled towards reality at breakneck pace she lost her nerve. Getting up, she assured him, ‘Well, don’t worry, if I do have to stay here for any length of time, I’ll keep right out of your way.’

‘How very thoughtful of you,’ Ethan murmured. ‘Tea?’ he proposed. ‘Hot and sweet, perhaps?’ he added under his breath. ‘It’s good for shock.’ He reached for the phone to call the kitchen.

Shock? He thought she was in shock? She probably was in shock after seeing the news bulletin, Savannah conceded. But tea? She didn’t want tea. ‘I think I need something stronger than that.’

Ethan held the phone away from his ear. ‘Espresso?’

His face was poker straight, but his eyes were laughing at her. This humorous side of him—so unsuspected, so attractive—was unbelievably seductive. And terrifying. She had no idea how to handle a man—any man—let alone a man like Ethan. The situation was rapidly spiral-ling out of control. ‘Gin and tonic, please,’ she said firmly, thinking it might help. ‘A large one.’

For a moment she thought Ethan might refuse, but then he crossed the room to the wet bar where he mixed a drink. At last he was treating her like someone over the age of consent.

‘Here you are,’ he said pleasantly, handing her the glass. ‘I hope I got the balance right?’

She took a large swig in a pathetic attempt to maintain a confident image—and choked. Worse than choked she wheezed and choked, whilst waving her hands frantically in the air as fire consumed her gullet.

‘So, you’re a virgin,’ he said with amusement.

She was aghast that he could tell. ‘How did you know?’

Holding the crystal tumbler aloft, he stared into the clear liquid. ‘You can’t drink a decent measure of alcohol without …’ His voice tailed away as he looked at her. ‘Oh, I see. We’re not talking about the same thing, are we? Well, are we, Savannah?’ Ethan pressed, and, far from being humorous now, his expression was grim.

She couldn’t answer. Her throat had seized up with embarrassment. In the silence that followed everything Ethan had ever thought about her seemed to grow in her mind to grotesque proportions. She was too young for him, too inexperienced, too naïve, and whatever hopes she’d ever had about them ever being together had just turned into dust. But that didn’t stop her wanting him, it just pushed him further away, because Ethan was so principled he would never even think of making love to her, believing her innocence was under his charge.

A virgin? A virgin! Ethan recoiled inwardly. This made the situation so much worse. How much worse he could hardly quantify in thought, let alone words. Savannah was only here to enjoy his protection, yet until a minute ago he had arrogantly contemplated seducing her. She was still so young, and his first thought must always be to protect her. He had to hang onto that thought now if he was to save her from the greatest danger of all, which was him—the very man who was supposed to be taking care of her.

‘Ethan, please don’t be angry with me,’ she begged him as he made for the door.

‘Angry with you?’ He was bemused she could think that. ‘Goodnight, Savannah.’

‘Ethan, please.’

He was halfway through the door when she ran towards him. ‘Sleep well,’ he said, closing the door firmly behind him with Savannah on the other side. He didn’t trust himself to wait and listen to her reply.

She sat on the bed for a long time after Ethan left. With her arms pressed tightly on the top of her head, she knew she’d made such a hash of everything and that she didn’t have a clue how to make it right. She had known for some time now that she loved Ethan. How could she care for anyone as deeply as she did for him and not love him? But he still frightened her. She had played a foolish game of make-believe. The first time Ethan had noticed she was a woman, she had taken fright, and now his principles meant they could never be together. Well done, Savannah, she congratulated herself; there’d be no encores here.

Climbing off the bed, she went to stare into the mirror. What did Ethan see when he stared in his? He lived his life in spite of his injuries. He had triumphed over them. Or had he? Was she only seeing Ethan’s public face? Did those scars torment him when he was alone? Because she cared about him, she couldn’t stop thinking about it. How could she leave Tuscany and Ethan with so many things unresolved? She would go to him and speak to him. She would reason with him in the hope that when she went away they could at least be friends.

The fact that she didn’t have a clue what she was going to say was immaterial, Savannah thought, tugging on her jeans. This was just one of those moments when doing nothing wasn’t an option. She refused to have Ethan think she was repulsed by his scars, or that she made a habit of accepting hospitality and then changing everything around for her host. Caring about someone came with responsibility, which meant she couldn’t turn her back on him. And as this might be her last chance to search beneath Ethan’s public persona, and find the real man underneath, she had no intention of wasting it.