Charlie laughed.
‘That’s better.’ Marco glanced over at her and smiled. ‘You seem more relaxed now. You were a bit tense earlier.’
‘Was I?’ Charlie cringed; she’d hoped he hadn’t noticed! ‘Sorry I was a bit distracted.’
He looked over at her questioningly.
‘Thinking about the office …’ she improvised hastily.
‘Really?’ His voice was dry. He didn’t sound as if he believed her.
He flicked an amused glance over at her and she felt herself blush. It did sound unbelievable that she would be thinking about the office on a Friday evening in Tuscany!
Marco smiled. ‘Do you want to know what I was thinking?’
She really hoped he wasn’t going to make some glib comment that would make her embarrassed. It would be just like him to tease her about the sleeping arrangements right now.
‘I was wondering if we should stop off at a little trattoria I know for something to eat or if we should head straight to the villa and I’ll cook.’
‘Oh!’ She relaxed and smiled.
‘You know, I’ve never met anyone who thought about work more than me.’ He continued on in a jovial tone, ‘It’s a whole new experience.’
‘Well, you know what they say,’ she said lightly; ‘if something is worth doing, it’s worth doing well … So, getting back to your thoughts …’ swiftly she changed the subject, ‘… can you cook?’
‘Of course; why do you sound so surprised?’
‘Maybe because you are always so immersed in work I didn’t think you’d have time to spend in the kitchen.’
‘Oh, I make time for food.’ Marco laughed. ‘After all, I’m Italian. Food is one of our passions.’
Charlie smiled and tried not to allow her mind to race towards what his other passions might be.
Marco paused the car at a junction. ‘So, are we eating out tonight or shall I cook for us?’
Somehow whatever option she chose sounded perilously cosy! ‘When do you want to get down to doing some work?’ she countered instead.
‘You’ve already got the job, Charlie; you don’t need to try and impress me with your dedication a moment longer.’ He grinned.
‘I wasn’t trying to impress you, I was being—’
‘Practical,’ he finished for her wryly. ‘And I really like that about you. But you know what, Charlie? Let’s give practicality a rest for now. It is Friday night. We can think about the office tomorrow.’
‘Fine …’
What else could she say? Charlie wondered frantically.
‘Tell you what, I’ll cook … it will give us a chance to talk without being interrupted. We can go out tomorrow.’ The decision made, Marco put the car into gear again and moved away from the junction.
Talk about what? It was all sounding a little too intimate for her peace of mind Charlie thought warily. ‘Well, maybe that’s best,’ she murmured. ‘After all, we are both a bit tired and we might want an early night.’ She made the statement thinking it might be a good escape route for later, but as soon as the words were out she realised they sounded riskily provocative.
‘We might indeed.’ He smiled at her and as their eyes met she felt a tug of sexual attraction that was so fierce it was almost palpable.
Hurriedly she looked away. ‘So, do we need to stop off and get some groceries?’
‘No, Rita, my housekeeper, will have done all that.’
Her spirits lifted a little. Maybe they wouldn’t be entirely alone after all. ‘I didn’t realise you had a housekeeper. Does she live in?’
‘No, but she will have done the shopping, made up the bed and the fires will be lit. So the place should be aired and warm.’
He’d said bed, she noticed. Shouldn’t he have said beds? Maybe it was just a slip of the tongue … maybe it was his accent and he had said beds but she hadn’t heard him correctly. Or maybe he was taking it for granted that she would fall into his arms and his bed. Let’s face it, she thought, there couldn’t be many women who would turn him down …
Don’t even think about it, Charlie, she told herself heatedly.
The road was winding up out of the valley now. Charlie could see the dark shapes of cypress trees against the clear midnight-blue of the sky. A few houses were dotted along the way, throwing golden light into the lonely darkness.
Marco turned the car up into a driveway, gravel crunching beneath the tyres as they drove higher then rounded a corner and came to a halt in front of a large stone building.
‘Here we are.’ He switched the engine off and they both stepped out of the car. They were high up and probably by day there was a spectacular view out over the valley, but all she could see was the clearness of the night sky ablaze with stars against the shadowy darkness of the landscape. There was silence except for the sound of cicadas and the air was fragrant with blossom.
Marco handed Charlie the keys of the front door. ‘You open up and I’ll get your case.’
The front door opened into a large flagged hallway. There was a vase of fresh lilies on the table and their perfume filled the air. Through an open doorway Charlie could see a lounge with a stone fireplace at one end where a log fire was blazing. A few lamps had been left on, throwing a subdued glow over the polished maple floor and the white furniture.
Marco came in behind her.
‘Your house is lovely.’
‘Thanks. Come on, I’ll show you upstairs.’
As he led the way up the curving staircase Charlie tried not to think about how intimate this was. They turned onto the landing and Marco opened up a door then stood back to allow her to enter the room first.
The first thing she noticed was the huge double bed, its crisp white covers folded back invitingly. A log fire crackled inside a wood-burning stove and there were some pine logs and cones in a basket beside it, which probably accounted for the fresh scent in the room.
‘This is lovely. Thank you.’ She watched as he put down her case. Then he straightened and looked over at her.
They were standing inches apart and for a while there was silence between them, the only sound the crackle of the fire and the drum of her heartbeat.
He really was far too handsome for any woman’s peace of mind, she thought distractedly. She wanted to take a step backwards from him … and at the same time perversely she wanted to reach out and run her hands up and along the broad contours of his shoulders, until her fingers found the dark thickness of his hair.
Marco watched the way she put her hands behind her back and stepped away, and noted the guarded expression in her green eyes.
‘In case you are wondering, I’ve given you the room directly across the corridor from mine.’
‘Oh … I wasn’t wondering,’ she said lightly.
He smiled and she could tell he knew she was lying.
‘Of course, you don’t necessarily need to stay in here.’ There was that teasing sound in his deep voice again. ‘There are six bedrooms along this landing. You can have any one of them you want.’
‘I’ll bear that in mind.’
Marco was watching her as if she was the most entertaining of creatures. ‘Well, now we have that sorted out I’ll go and get dinner underway. I’ll see you downstairs when you are ready.’
‘Thanks.’
As soon as the door closed behind him Charlie sank down onto the bed. He obviously just enjoyed bantering with her but she felt so emotionally drained it was as if it had taken every last ounce of strength just to keep the situation light and keep her distance from him.
Across the room she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the cheval mirror. She had travelled in jeans and a blue silk blouse and her hair was tied back from her face in the usual style she wore for work. She looked smartly casual but nowhere near as glamorous as the women Marco dated.
For all his teasing remarks, he wasn’t really interested in her, she reminded herself. She wasn’t his type. Of course, the fact that he now believed she was in t
une with his theories on romance meant he was more interested in her than he had been before. And no doubt, given any encouragement, he would sleep with her … but it would just be light entertainment to him, something to fill a gap.
Knowing all these things as she did, why was she having such difficulty switching off her feelings of attraction for him? It made her angry. She had promised herself when Greg left her that no man would ever take her for a fool again. So why was she even tempted to play with fire now?
With renewed vigour she stood up and opened her case to take out a change of clothing. She wasn’t going to allow stupid feelings of a short-lived desire to ruin her working relationship with Marco. She would have dinner with him and she would laugh and joke with him but she would keep him at arm’s length.
Twenty minutes later she went back downstairs, her mood focused and determined.
She found Marco in the kitchen at the back of the house.
He turned as she walked in and his gaze moved slowly over her, taking in the black dress cinched in at her small waist with a wide leather belt, before moving down to her high-heeled suede boots.
Charlie tried very hard not to allow her new-found self-assurance slip. There was something very Italian about the way he didn’t try to hide the fact that he was looking at her with purely sexual interest.
‘You look great,’ he said softly. ‘And I know I’ve said it before but you should wear your hair loose like that all the time.’
‘It would get in the way at work.’
‘It might.’ He nodded, a spark of devilment in his dark eyes now. ‘But not for the reasons you mean.’
The warmth of his tone made her pulses quicken, made her very aware of the flare of attraction between them. Their eyes held each other’s gaze for a moment too long … before she quickly pulled her senses together.
‘Do you need any help with dinner?’
He smiled as he noted how abruptly she changed the subject. ‘No; everything is under control. Take a seat.’ He nodded towards one of the high stools at the breakfast bar. ‘I’ll pour you a glass of wine.’
‘Thanks.’ She did as he asked and watched as he uncorked a bottle of red.
‘This comes from the vineyard next door.’
Charlie took the glass he offered and tasted the drink; it had rich, fruity undertones. ‘I’m not a connoisseur by any means but this is very good.’
‘Most of the Italian wines are,’ he said matter-of-factly.
‘Not that you are biased or anything,’ she added with a smile.
‘Heavens, no! Whatever gave you that idea?’
She grinned and raised her glass towards his. ‘Here’s to Italy,’ she said.
He touched his glass against hers. ‘No, here’s to your first visit to Italy. May it be the first of many.’
Charlie tried not to be distracted by the warmth of those words. Her gaze moved from him towards the rustic charm of the kitchen with its maple cupboards and dark flagged floors. There was an enormous wine rack at one side, completely full of bottles. ‘Were your family in the wine-making business as well?’
‘No, my grandfather grew flowers, hence the name … La Casa del Fiori … house of flowers.’
‘If you don’t mind my saying, that sounds very romantic.’ Charlie looked over at him mischievously and he laughed.
‘It might sound that way, but I assure you it wasn’t. The flowers were grown for purely commercial purposes. When my grandfather died he left the place to my father and we moved here from Milan. My father was an architect so the flower business was not to his liking. He rented the land off and worked in the town near-by.’
Charlie watched as he chopped some herbs. He looked totally at home in this kitchen and more relaxed than she had ever seen him. She noticed that he had changed out of the clothes he had travelled in and was now wearing a chunky black sweater teamed with a pair of black jeans. His hair gleamed dark under the overhead light.
‘Do you feel as if you’ve come home when you come here?’ she asked curiously.
‘Not really. This hasn’t been my home for a very long time. After I left to go to university I didn’t come back here…. except for visits, of course.’
‘And you haven’t been tempted to sell it?’
‘The thought has crossed my mind, but it’s been in the family for generations; I just couldn’t bring myself to do it.’
‘So it must hold happy memories for you.’
‘Some …’ Marco shrugged. ‘But in truth this house never rang with much happiness. My mother hated it, she was a city person, born and brought up in Milan. To her the countryside was great for a day out, nothing more … she felt trapped here.’
‘And yet it is so beautiful.’
‘You can get used to beautiful scenery … and so bored after a while that you don’t even notice it any more.’
‘I can’t imagine ever being that bored,’ Charlie murmured. ‘It sounds sad.’
‘Yes, I suppose it is.’ Marco looked over at her contemplatively. ‘But unfortunately one man’s paradise can be another’s prison. There has to be more substance to a situation than just what you can see. My father was a countryman at heart and he couldn’t understand why my mother wouldn’t settle here. He thought that if she loved him she would be happy.’
‘But love wasn’t enough to keep her happy?’ Charlie guessed wryly.
‘That’s about it in a nutshell. I think my father would have moved back to Milan for her, but unfortunately by the time he realised just how much she hated this place his finances were already tied up. He had bought into a business partnership and it’s not so easy to walk away from your own business, even if you want to.’
‘So what happened—did the marriage end in divorce?’
‘No, my father didn’t believe in divorce. My mother got herself a job in Milan and lived most of the time there under the guise of work … then came home at weekends. We all knew she had another man in her life but it was never spoken about.’
Charlie looked over at him with sympathy. ‘That must have been a difficult situation for everyone.’
‘It wasn’t a picnic.’
Charlie sensed that the flippant reply hid a rawness that probably was still with him to this day.
‘Do you think your belief that love isn’t enough to sustain a relationship stems from what happened between your parents?’ She asked the question impulsively.
Marco looked over at her and laughed. ‘Are you trying to analyse me, Charlie?’
‘Maybe.’ She blushed a little.
‘Well, I don’t think I’m particularly scarred by what happened, but when you watch two people you love destroy each other I suppose it has an effect. And we are all products of our past.’ One sardonic eyebrow lifted as he fixed her with that probing look of his.
‘Yes, I suppose we are.’
‘So now we’ve discussed my hang-ups, shall we have a turn at dissecting yours?’
For some reason the quietly asked question hit on a sensitive nerve. ‘I don’t have any hang-ups.’
Suddenly his eyes were completely serious. ‘What about those great steel barriers that come down as soon as anyone starts to try and get close to you?’
‘I don’t know what you are talking about,’ she said quickly.
The expression in Marco’s eyes was so intensely perceptive that she found herself dropping her gaze. ‘So … is dinner nearly ready, because I don’t mind telling you that I’m ravenous?’
For a moment she thought he wasn’t going to let her move the subject so easily, but after a brief pause, he went along with her. ‘Yes, antipasti is ready to be served,’ he said light-heartedly, ‘so if you will follow me through to the dining room …’
He moved to open a sliding door beside him and Charlie found herself looking through into a dining room where a table was laid for two.
The setting was one of seduction. A table was laid with white linen and silverware, and there were candles flickering along
the sideboard and on the table, reflecting over polished surfaces.
‘All Rita’s handiwork,’ Marco admitted as he saw her look of surprise. ‘She always has everything perfect for me.’
‘I see.’ As Charlie moved further into the room she felt a flare of annoyance mixed with trepidation. Obviously Rita was well-used to him bringing his conquests here. ‘You forgot to tell your housekeeper that I’m just your employee, not your girlfriend.’
‘I haven’t forgotten anything, Charlie,’ he said quietly. He caught hold of her arm as she made to move past him. ‘We both know that there is a connection between us that is deeper than that …’
As she looked up at him the memory of their kiss swirled inside her with vivid intensity. She pushed it back with difficulty. It meant nothing. ‘You mean the fact that we both view romance with a sceptical eye?’
‘I view romance with a rational eye,’ he corrected her firmly. ‘And I was talking about the fact that we’ve been drawn to each other recently but we’ve been sidestepping the feeling.’
‘I haven’t noticed anything.’ The lie dropped quickly from her lips.
‘Of course you have. You know it and I know it.’ His hand moved to touch her cheek; it was the lightest of caresses yet it burnt against her senses like an iron brand.
And suddenly her breath felt as if it was painful to draw. She wanted him to kiss her again … wanted him so badly it hurt. The knowledge terrified her.
‘Marco, don’t.’ Her voice was filled with a sudden panic.
‘Don’t what?’
Her eyes seemed too large for her small face. Marco saw the way they clouded with desire, but he also noted the way she almost flinched away from him.
‘Don’t assume that I am just another one of your conquests, because I’m not,’ she told him angrily. ‘It doesn’t matter how many candles you light or how many lies you generate—’
‘Charlie!’ he cut across her firmly. ‘I wasn’t thinking of telling you any lies.’ He sounded mildly surprised by the accusation. ‘Generally speaking, I think I’m an honest person. And believe it or not I wanted to spend time getting to know you this evening because I like you …’ He looked at her pointedly. ‘I know you find that hard to believe but it’s true.’
Mistress to the Mediterranean Male (Mills & Boon By Request) Page 35