‘Ah, I see.’ Marco laughed. He had a lovely laugh … it was just as sexy as his voice. ‘It must be cold in your house. Do you want me to come earlier, see if I can warm you up?’
The question made her pulses quicken. She imagined him warming her up the way he had in her dreams last night and the thought of it made her sizzle. She pulled her dressing gown around her as if by holding it firmly across her body she could shut out the crazy images. ‘No, it’s OK thank you.’ Her voice sounded very prim even to her own ears.
‘OK, but I’m not bad at fixing things,’ he continued. ‘It comes from being brought up in a century-old farmhouse in Tuscany. Anyway, getting back to our arrangements for this afternoon …’
Instantly she could feel butterflies in her stomach. ‘You said you wanted to discuss something about work?’
‘There are a number of things I want to discuss,’ he said smoothly. ‘But they can wait until later. I thought we could go to the Summer House. They have an excellent menu.’
‘So I’ve heard.’ Charlie had never been to that restaurant but she knew it was one of the most exclusive in the area with sweeping views out across the River Thames.
A picture rose in her mind of somewhere formal and stiff where people were elegantly dressed. What on earth would she wear to go there? She found herself doing a mental trawl through her wardrobe and not coming up with anything very suitable.
‘So I’ll pick you up at twelve-thirty.’
‘Marco!’ She cut across him abruptly. ‘Do you think we could go somewhere else?’
‘Yes, of course.’ Marco sounded unfazed by the request. ‘We can go anywhere you would like. Have you got somewhere in mind?’
Charlie thought fast. ‘There is a country pub in the next village called The Waterhouse.’
‘OK, we’ll eat there instead. I’ve got to go Charlie, see you later.’
The line went dead. Charlie replaced the receiver and realised that instead of fobbing Marco off as she had intended she had capitulated very easily.
It was just one outing … she reassured herself. Moreover Marco was probably only going to talk about work. Not much to worry about really.
Charlie had hoped that by the time Marco arrived to pick her up she would be organised and ready.
The reality was that the plumber arrived to fix her heating and held her back. So everything was done in a last-minute rush. She had just stepped into a pair of black jeans and a white blouse when Marco pulled up outside.
She looked at herself in the mirror. Her hair was tied back from her face in its usual severe style and she wondered suddenly if she should try and look different today.
On impulse she pulled the tie out, allowing the golden strands to fall around her shoulders. Then instantly she regretted it. She didn’t want to look as if she was trying to be glamorous, because this wasn’t a real date and anyway she knew she could never compete with the women Marco usually liked on his arm.
The shrill ring of the doorbell shattered the silence of the house. It was too late to tie it back again now!
Feeling nervous, she went down to open the front door. And as she came face to face with Marco her heart seemed to miss a beat.
‘Hi.’ He smiled at her and all she could think about was how handsome he was. He was wearing casual clothes, but he looked incredible in them. Chinos, a thick cable sweater and a suede jacket that emphasised the breadth of his shoulders all added up to his look of pure, sexy Italian style. And when she met those dark eyes of his she just wanted to melt.
‘I am ready, but come in while I get my bag.’ She moved back and held the door for him.
‘You look lovely.’ He didn’t take his eyes off her as he stepped into the hallway.
‘Thank you.’ Charlie smiled self-consciously.
‘You should leave your hair like that more often. It makes you look very … alluring.’ He reached out a hand and touched the golden strands, running it through his fingers like liquid silk.
The gesture was nonchalant and yet it felt like such an intimate thing to do that she was aware of her heartbeats increasing and was more than aware of the frisson of sensuality that suddenly sprang up between them.
She took a step away and didn’t know what to say to that, she felt completely out of her depth. For the past few months she had been trying to pretend that she wasn’t sexually aware of Marco and now suddenly there was no hiding from it. Now there was more awareness between them than she knew how to deal with.
Marco was just a charmer, she reminded herself firmly. It didn’t mean anything.
She was glad when Jack came racing downstairs at that moment, followed at a more sedate pace by her mother.
‘Marco, this is my mother, Helen, and my son, Jack,’ Charlie introduced them.
‘Pleased to meet you.’ Marco smiled at the older woman. ‘And hello, Jack.’ He crouched down so that he was at eye-level with the child. ‘I’m pleased to meet you too. I’ve heard lots about you.’
Jack smiled shyly. ‘Is that red car outside yours?’ he asked suddenly.
‘Yes, it is.’
‘Wow!’ Jack’s dark eyes lit up.
‘So you have a passion for beautiful cars … you are like a true Italian.’ Marco ruffled the child’s dark hair playfully.
Charlie smiled and reached for her handbag. ‘We won’t be long, Mum. Thanks for looking after him.’
As it was a sunny day, Marco had the top down on his car. As they zoomed along the narrow country lanes the breeze caught Charlie’s hair, whipping it around her face in wild disarray.
Marco glanced over at her as he pulled the car to a standstill in the pub car park and watched as she tried to smooth the golden strands back into place.
‘I should have tied it back,’ she murmured as she caught his eye.
‘I don’t think so.’ He seemed to look at her with deep concentration and Charlie felt herself growing hot inside. Then he reached across and brushed a strand of hair back into place. ‘There—perfect again.’
The light touch of his fingers against her skin made Charlie’s heart contract.
‘I’m pleased you changed your mind about lunch today.’
‘Well, you wanted to talk about work.’ She tried to think sensibly but she felt that she was drowning in his sexy eyes.
‘Yes, I did.’ He gave her a teasing look. ‘Amongst other things.’
‘As I was saying yesterday, I do think it’s important that we keep a close boundary line between work and anything personal.’ Was she rambling? she wondered hazily. She was trying so hard to be level-headed. But he seemed to be very close to her, she could smell the tang of his cologne, warm and evocative. She remembered how he had touched her yesterday and a wave of longing suddenly swept through her. What would it be like to be held in his arms, feel his hands move slowly and intimately over her body? The sudden unbidden thought reverberated through her, making her temperature rise dramatically. She tried to dismiss it but the sensual picture refused to move from her mind.
‘Actually I have a notion that, where you and I are concerned, business and pleasure could fit together very nicely.’ He murmured the words huskily, his eyes on her lips.
‘I don’t see how …’
Marco smiled. ‘Well, as you are such a practical person and so am I … boundaries will always be in place.’ He reached and brushed his fingers lightly down over her cheek. ‘Therefore the problem ceases to exist … don’t you think?’ His hand lingered at her chin, tipping her face upwards so that he could look at her.
The intensity of his eyes and the touch of his hand against her skin set her heart slamming against her chest. She felt her body tense as he moved even closer. She wanted him to kiss her … wanted it so badly that every nerve-ending in her body seemed to be yearning for him … and yet at the same time she was willing herself to move away, telling herself that this situation was a mistake and that she could get badly burnt. The trouble was that the need to risk the fire was overwhelming �
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‘Anyway, I think talk of work can wait until later …’ he brushed a finger across the smoothness of her lips ‘… whereas this … can’t.’ His hands gently cupped her face as his head lowered towards hers. The touch of his lips against hers and the way he held her as he kissed her felt incredibly sensual and possessive. It was no gentle kiss either, it was powerfully masterful, very dominant. Charlie’s senses swam with desire and before she could think better of it she was kissing him back with a hungry response. She was aware that his fingers moved to lace through her hair, controlling her as he thoroughly explored the sweetness of her mouth.
Charlie’s emotions were all over the place as he pulled away. A part of her wanted to go back into his arms, wanted him to continue kissing her. The other part was mortified by how easily she had just capitulated to his caress, by how wantonly she had returned his kisses. He was her boss, for heaven’s sake! This could only lead to disaster.
‘What on earth are we doing?’ she murmured breathlessly.
He smiled at that. ‘I think it’s known as enjoying ourselves,’ he murmured with lazy amusement.
She felt a flare of annoyance at his casual rejoinder, but whether it was at herself for kissing him back so passionately, or him for being so nonchalant about it she wasn’t sure. ‘You’re just a flirt, Marco …’ She tried to sound dismissive but there was a revealing huskiness about her tone that she didn’t like.
He smiled. ‘But just for the record I really do want to discuss work with you.’ He turned to get out of the car. ‘Come on, let’s see what the food is like in this pub of yours.’
Hurriedly she stepped out after him and tried to gather herself together. Obviously he wasn’t even giving that kiss a second thought, so she needed to be as cool and urbane about it as he was. The trouble was, she couldn’t think of anything cool or urbane to say.
They continued on down to the pub in silence. The Waterhouse was an old coaching house nestled in the curve of the River Thames. Behind it there was a small beer garden where people could sit on a sunny day and admire the view. Today, however, only the hardiest of souls were sitting outside in the autumn sun and it was a pleasure to walk into the warmth of the slightly dark old-world interior.
Marco stood back to allow Charlie to enter the building first and as he did so he noted the way her long hair swung silkily around her back, noted the long length of her legs, the lovely curve of her bottom in the tight-fitting jeans.
She really was quite sexy; he’d been blown away when she opened the door to him earlier, her face flushed, and her hair tumbling around her shoulders. He’d often watched her in the office and wondered what she would be like when she let her barriers down and relaxed. He had suspected that behind that prim and proper demeanour there was a hidden sensuality, and he had been right. The way she had kissed him had proved that without a doubt.
Now he found himself wanting to tear down the rest of her barriers and take her to bed.
They found a table next to a roaring log fire and Marco pulled out a chair for her to sit down. ‘What can I get you to drink?’
‘A glass of white wine would be nice, thank you.’
As Marco waited for the barmaid to get their drinks he glanced back at the table. Charlie was taking off her jacket now to hang it over the back of her chair. His gaze flicked over her contemplatively. Usually the women he dated were dressed in more obviously seductive apparel, yet there was something very appealing about the plain white blouse that Charlie wore. It was fitted in at her small waist and it emphasised in a subtle way the full curve of her breasts.
She glanced over and caught him watching her and he smiled before turning back to the bar.
She really was quite lovely; in fact she even brought out a protective streak in him that he hadn’t felt for a while. It was something to do with the way she could look quite vulnerable at times … like just now when she’d caught him watching her … and the way she had looked at him yesterday with that defensive sparkle in her eyes as she talked about her classic love-songs CD and her parents falling in love at first sight.
He had to admit, when she had told him that she would consider a relationship that was based on realism rather than a starry-eyed premise he had been sceptical to begin with. He had already judged her and in emotional terms he had placed her in the high-maintenance bracket.
It wasn’t that Marco was against the idea of love … he just didn’t believe that it conquered all, and he didn’t want to get involved in a relationship with someone who believed that it did. He had learnt at first hand how unrealistic expectations could tear people apart. He had watched his own parents destroy each other; it had been painful and messy and he certainly didn’t want to get involved in a relationship like that. In fact he didn’t really want a serious relationship in his life at all … The girls he usually went out with were fine for short-term flings, but they didn’t understand his theories regarding long-term relationships at all. However, a liaison with someone of a like mind … someone who wasn’t emotionally driven … well, that was a different matter.
Until yesterday he had never suspected for one moment that Charlie might be that like-minded individual. But any woman who could say she was looking for companionship had to have relegated love to a secondary position in her life. And he had realised that maybe she wasn’t looking for that all-consuming love, maybe she had been hurt so much in her first marriage that she was looking now for more practical and realistic relationships.
He shouldn’t have been so surprised to discover this about her but he still was—surprised and genuinely pleased because not only did it leave him free to pursue her, but it also meant that she could be quite an asset to him professionally.
The fact was that right at this moment Marco was getting very tired of giving interviews that suddenly veered off to dwell on his own personal life. It didn’t seem to matter that he had produced the evidence for his theories already—people still wanted to know about his romantic circumstances. And as Sarah had pointed out, the problem wasn’t going to go away. In fact when he went on his book tour to America it would probably get worse.
So having someone like Charlie around, someone who thought in the same way he did, was great. Having her in the background right now just might help play down all those annoying little questions about how his personal life compared with his theories.
The fact that he also wanted to get her into bed was simply a bonus. He hadn’t planned to kiss her in the car, but the temptation had been too strong to resist and had taken him a little by surprise. As had her hungry response to him.
He returned to the table and put the drinks down.
‘Thanks.’ She smiled and tried not to notice that there was a group of women in the corner who were looking over at Marco with undisguised admiration.
He didn’t seem to notice them at all. ‘It’s very pleasant in here,’ he said as he took the seat opposite to her and sat with his back to them.
‘Yes … kind of quaint …’ She took a sip of her drink.
‘So how do you usually spend your Saturdays?’ he asked suddenly.
‘Mostly my weekends are taken up by spending time with Jack and catching up on housework.’ She shrugged. ‘I’m sure your weekends are very different!’
‘It must be difficult working full-time and looking after a house and a child.’
‘Sometimes, but I have a child-minder and good back-up from my mother. My dad died a few years ago so in a way Jack has been company for Mum, and helped focus her attention away from her grief.’
‘It’s good to have family support.’
Charlie nodded. ‘But I try not to put on Mum too much. She has a busy life. That’s why I decided to work for a temping agency; it’s been great while Jack’s been small because it’s given me flexibility.’ Charlie raked a hand through her hair. It looked as though all that was going to finish if Karen sold the agency, she thought distractedly.
‘And Jack’s dad doesn’t help
out at all in this arrangement?’
Charlie focused on him again and shook her head. ‘Greg is a pilot and he is based in America now, he has an apartment in LA.’
‘He doesn’t see his son at all?’
Charlie could hear the note of disbelief in Marco’s voice. ‘Greg’s life is busy. And, although he does fly into London, he’s on a tight turn-around schedule—well, that’s the excuse I give Jack, anyway.’
‘I see.’
As she met his steady gaze Charlie wondered if Marco was thinking how reprehensible it was for her to lie about why Jack’s father didn’t see him.
She knew Greg would actually have plenty of time to see his son in between flying around the world. But how could you tell a four-year-old that his father wasn’t interested in him?
Marco looked at the bright blaze in her eyes as she looked across at him, and noticed the way she raised her chin slightly. Obviously the mere mention of Jack’s father still had the power to touch Charlie on an emotional level.
‘Anyway, enough about that.’ She changed the subject swiftly. ‘You wanted to talk about work, not listen to me rambling on …’
Marco noticed that once more the shutters had come down over her expression. ‘You weren’t rambling on and I was interested,’ he said softly. ‘Your ex still has the power to upset you, doesn’t he?’
She didn’t like the observation. ‘What makes you think that?’
‘I don’t know … it could be something to do with the expression in your eyes whenever he’s mentioned.’
‘I’m not upset about Greg.’ There was a hint of steel in her tone suddenly. ‘I’m just upset for Jack. I feel for him and the fact that he doesn’t see his dad.’
‘That’s understandable.’
‘Well, that’s all it is. Apart from the fact that I have his son, Greg is history.’ She angled her chin up even more. ‘So … let’s get back to why we are here. You wanted to discuss work.’
Mistress to the Mediterranean Male (Mills & Boon By Request) Page 33