Love, International Style

by Alexia Adams

  “But still, if he’s your boss, it’s going to be rather awkward, isn’t it, when you jump his bones?”

  Olivia picked up a dress, folded it, and put it in the suitcase at the end of the bed. Sophia and Luca were getting ready to move to a tiny cottage near his new hotel project, an eight hour drive away. So this might be the last time she and her best friend could have a frank conversation in person for a while. “I told you, I’m not going to sleep with anyone until I’m sure the relationship has a future. And to be honest, even kissing Jonathan is addictive. I’m afraid of what would happen if I shag him and then we break up.”

  “Okay, I can see not sleeping with him. But how do you feel about him?”

  Trust Sophia to get right to the core problem.

  “I don’t know. I don’t know how much of what I feel is this inconvenient desire and how much is the start of something more. Some days I think I should just rip his clothes off and do him on the kitchen table. Get it over and done with.” Although that had more chance of starting an entirely different problem, rather than ending the current lust issue.

  “Over and done with. How romantic.”

  She ignored Sophia’s remark. “Plus I have no idea how he feels about me. He said he was afraid to let me go because of what it would do to Hannah. I don’t want him to want me because I make his daughter happy.”

  “I’ve seen the way he watches you, Olivia, even before Hannah arrived. He feels something. I think he’s too afraid to admit it to himself. But deep down Jonathan’s a good man. He’s just been hurt by his ex-wife and is afraid to get involved with someone again.”

  “What if he never gets over it? How long do I wait? Until I’m so invested in any kind of relationship with him that I’ll accept anything he’s willing to offer me?”

  “You’ve agreed to stay with him for three months once he’s back at work. I’m sure by the end of that time you’ll know. Love is like quicksand. The harder you struggle against it, the faster it takes you under. Jonathan is trying so hard not to love you. I bet by the end of this trial, he’s on his knees, begging you to marry him.”

  “You are the eternal optimist, Sophia. Sometimes crap doesn’t make roses bloom, it just breeds flies. He had a bad marriage. I had a bad childhood. That doesn’t mean we’re destined to complete each other, or whatever romantic notion your love-addled brain envisages.”

  “Your day will come, Livy, when you’re so happy you want everyone else to be happy around you.”

  “You are the only person I care about being happy. And you are. So my job is done.”

  “Well mine isn’t. And yes, I’m an optimist. I happen to think it would be nice if you two got together permanently. I kind of fancy the idea of you having a house up the road once Luca’s hotel is built and we’re back here, even if it’s just your holiday home.”

  “Well, don’t set your heart on it. Jonathan hates my job. He even suggested that I train for something else while I’m with him.”

  “Maybe you should. How many times have you told me modeling makes you feel like a piece of meat dressed up and paraded before hungry diners?”

  “I’m good at it. Why mess with success?”

  “Because you haven’t tried anything else. You’re fabulous with my nieces and nephew and Hannah. Have you thought of doing something with kids?”

  “Maybe. I’d like to run a program for at-risk girls, like we were. But being a successful model will give me clout so they’ll take notice—believe me when I say that life will get better. Do you remember what we used to talk about when we lived behind that dumpster? You designing interiors for the rich and famous, my face splashed on the billboard above us. It seemed impossible then, but look at us now.”

  “You’re right. But the one thing I didn’t know then is that all the success in the world means nothing if you have no one to share it with. Open up your heart, Livy. Give Jonathan a chance. It’s terrifying, but so worth it in the end.”

  Olivia heaved a sigh. Time to fess up. It was the only way she was going to get her friend off her back, or rather the sparkly unicorn she seemed to be riding. “I’m scared, Sophia. He’s made it clear he won’t get involved with another model. But if I give up everything I’ve achieved, what am I? What have I got to offer him?”

  “Love?”

  She shook her head. “It’s not enough. It’s never been enough.”

  “With the right man it is. My friend Isabella told me that when you truly love someone, you don’t care that their happiness is more important than your own. Because you know they feel the same way. Look at Luca and me. I could have insisted on staying in this villa and not moving halfway down the country with him. But this project, this opportunity, makes him happy. And that makes me happy. Now I’m looking forward to having my husband all to myself. Until the baby arrives, that is.” She rubbed her stomach as if to reassure herself that the pregnancy was real.

  Olivia merely folded another of Sophia’s dresses.

  What if I give up my career and in the end Jonathan decides that Hannah would be better off with someone more educated? Someone with a more normal childhood? What if I become so involved with Jonathan that I lose myself completely? What if losing him is the final blow that leads to my own spiral into addiction?

  “I don’t want to become my mother,” she whispered. There it was, her greatest fear, out in the open.

  “You will never be your mother, Olivia. Look me in the eye,” Sophia commanded.

  Olivia sat next to her friend and let her model mask slip away—let her confusion, the pain of the past, and her worries over the future loose. She could never hide anything from her best friend anyway.

  Sophia took both her hands. “Repeat after me. I am a strong, caring woman, worthy of love. I will not be defined by my past or what others think of me. I am amazing.”

  Olivia dutifully parroted the words.

  • • •

  Jonathan eased open the front door and slipped inside. He’d never been happier to be home. It was after midnight; his flight had been delayed. His chest was tight and his jaw ached from clenching it for the past hour and a half. He’d wanted so badly to see Olivia before she went to bed. But there was little chance of that at this late hour.

  Even more annoying was the intense need to get back to her and Hannah. It was disconcerting how important they’d become to him in so short a time. Whenever they were apart, it was as though part of him was missing and he wouldn’t be complete until they were all together.

  When he’d first started seeing Celeste, he’d looked forward to their encounters. But it was more as a game of who would win the next round in their battle for emotional dominance. He wasn’t comfortable with this need just to be with Olivia and Hannah.

  Putting down his bag, he was surprised to see a light flickering through the back window. Olivia was lounging on the terrace, reading with the aid of a small flashlight. A bottle of wine and two glasses stood on the table. She was waiting for him.

  “Hi,” he said softly, not wanting to frighten her.

  She put her book down and straightened in her chair. “Hi back.” Her voice was so sexy it took every ounce of self-control he possessed not to carry her upstairs to his bedroom. He’d been tired when he walked through the door, now his body was flooded with energy.

  “Sorry I’m so late. The flight was delayed. You didn’t have to wait up.”

  “I wanted to. How was your day? Did you get everything done you hoped to?” She pulled the cork out of the wine and poured two glasses, handing him one.

  He took the seat next to hers. Her faint, sultry perfume vied with the scent of lavender and herbs coming from the garden. “Yes. I met with my boss and we sorted out my return to work. I start back August first. I also agreed to a sale price for my flat. The colleague who has been renting it from me wants to buy it. It’s a one-bedroom, so not suitable for Hannah. And I put an offer on a house in Lewisham. So, yes, a successful day.” And the best bit was sharing a glass
of wine with Olivia.

  “Wow, you did get a lot done.” No comment on the Lewisham property.

  His hand shook as he sipped his wine. “I realized, when I was looking at the house, that I assumed you would live with Hannah and me there. I never properly asked.” He paused for a moment, hoping Olivia would jump in and declare she wanted to be near him. She didn’t. So he continued, “Although I’m going to do my best to be home at a decent time in the evening, things happen. Like tonight’s flight delay. It would be more convenient if you lived with us.” He held his breath.

  “Ah, yes, convenience. Seems to be the be-all and end-all of our relationship. Tell me, Jonathan, do you want me to live with you so that Hannah is not upset by my absence?” She looked away as if uninterested in his reply. But he could see how tightly she held her wine glass.

  “No. It’s not only for Hannah. I miss you when you’re not here. I enjoy spending time with you. And our evenings together are the highlight of my day. But I rushed into my marriage. I won’t make that mistake again.”

  She released a sigh. “I’m not asking for a commitment. I just want to know if you feel anything for me—aside from appreciation for the way I care for Hannah, and desire, of course.”

  He sucked in a deep breath. Olivia made him feel things, different things from when he’d been with his ex-wife. Frightening things. A loss of willpower and overwhelming need. He had to learn to control it before it destroyed him. However he also needed to be honest with her. She deserved that, at least.

  “Olivia, I don’t know what I feel. I’m hoping during the next few months to figure that out. I do know it’s more than appreciation for what you’ve done for Hannah. And as for desire, I think it’s pretty evident how powerful that is. I’ve never wanted another woman the way I want you.”

  “I want you, too, Jonathan.” Before he could move, she added, “But I won’t sleep with you until we both know what we feel. I think it will distort how we view each other.”

  “Are you sure? I think it will make things a hell of a lot clearer. Because I’ve got to tell you, when you walk into the room, I instantly forget everything except how much I need you naked, screaming my name.”

  He had to try.

  She shivered and for a second he thought she’d agree. “You’re a smart man, power through it. Maybe if you thrust your thoughts in a different direction. I’m sure you’ll find your resolve hardening.” Her fingers ran up and down her wine glass in a sensual caress.

  “You are a wicked woman, Olivia Chapman. What about one night? Before we go back to London. A kind of farewell to Italy.”

  She seemed to think it over. “Tempting. But we both know one night will never be enough.”

  His sigh ended on a groan. “You’re right.”

  According to the bulge he currently had in his trousers, one lifetime wouldn’t be enough. With all the aborted hard-ons he’d dealt with since he’d met her, his cock probably wouldn’t respond when the real time came. That is, if it didn’t fall off first from lack of use.

  He needed to get back to work and have something all-consuming to concentrate on.

  He knew he cared for Olivia enough not to want to hurt her. If he couldn’t get over his trust issues and she didn’t change her career, then it would be better if he kept his distance.

  Going back to London was now the least of his worries. Living with a woman he could barely resist, but must, was going to be his most daunting task. Maybe she should live in her own place. He glanced over at her. No way. To keep her near him, he’d endure hell.

  It would probably come to that.

  Chapter 11

  Jonathan picked her and Hannah up from the airport. His new house hadn’t been ready by the time he’d had to go back to work. Olivia’s flat hadn’t been an option either as she’d let a designer friend, who had broken up with her boyfriend, stay there until she sorted out something else. So it had made more sense to stay at the villa with Hannah for the extra two weeks rather than live out of hotel rooms.

  Olivia should have felt at home back in London. But she found herself missing Italy already. The two weeks she’d planned to be away had morphed into two and a half months. It was the best summer she’d ever had, and she didn’t regret for one second her decision to stay and help Jonathan. But the countdown was on now. They had three months to figure out if they could both make monumental shifts in their lives to stay together. Or was this a wacky experiment she’d look back on one day and say, what the hell was I thinking?

  Olivia took her time exiting the car.

  “Jonathan, is there something you want to tell me?” Olivia stood in front of his new house in Lewisham. Having returned to work, Jonathan had cut his hair short and wore custom-made suits and handcrafted shoes. Gone was the sexy, rough-and-tumble builder Olivia had originally taken him for. In his place was a powerful, suave, sophisticated businessman. And just as sexy, although her fingers itched to run through his hair and mess it up a bit.

  “Welcome to your new home?” he tried.

  “Home? Try mansion.” She stared at the massive property in front of her, belatedly remembering to close her mouth.

  “It’s the best I could do on short notice. It was already vacant so it sped up the process. Of course I don’t have enough furniture to fill the rooms, but maybe we can go shopping together on the weekend. If there are any changes you want to make, paint or layout, let me know. I want you to feel at home here, too.” Jonathan turned to help Hannah out of her car seat.

  Talk about getting smacked upside the back of her head with a cricket bat. Jonathan was rich, very rich judging by the size of the house and the brand new BMW he’d picked them up in, not to mention the exclusive sports car that was garaged in Italy. She’d figured he was reasonably well-off. He hadn’t balked at buying all the things for Hannah and had clearly put money into his house in Italy. And his salary to her was generous, well beyond the minimum wage she expected most nannies made. But this was evidence of wealth beyond her imagination.

  And it further emphasized the gulf between them. Didn’t rich men marry equally wealthy women with connections that would help them become even richer? Olivia didn’t come from money, didn’t have the Cheltenham Ladies’ College education. She was the hired help in this situation. She hid her disappointment, in case he thought she didn’t like her new, albeit temporary, home. “I was expecting a three-bed terraced house, you know,” she said, still standing in the drive staring at the huge place in front of her.

  “I know,” Jonathan replied softly, coming to stand behind her. “Come, let’s explore.” He took her hand, his other holding Hannah’s. “There are two interconnecting bedrooms upstairs I thought you and Hannah might like. You’ll be close enough to hear her in the night but have more privacy than you did in Italy.”

  “Sounds fine,” she said, following him into the house.

  He gave a tour of the house, soliciting her suggestions on how to make it more like a home for Hannah. Meanwhile, Hannah danced and twirled in the empty rooms and tested the comfort of the chairs. These days, she chatted incessantly. It was as though she’d finally decided the world needed to know what she thought. Jonathan had missed most of it by working.

  “Pity, pity,” Hannah said.

  “Does she ever stop talking? And why is everything so pitiful? I thought she’d like it,” he said as they stood in Hannah’s bedroom. He’d obviously found the time to shop; a white princess bed with a hot pink canopy graced the room.

  “She means pretty,” Olivia translated. When Hannah was excited it was sometimes hard to understand what she was trying to say. But Olivia would take that exuberance any day over the sad, silent child who’d arrived on the doorstep.

  “Thank goodness she likes it. The bedroom suite is a present from my parents. It was waiting for me when I got here yesterday evening. I spent half the night putting it together.”

  The room was a little girl’s fantasy. Painted a pale shade of pink that would adapt as
she grew, it was full of dolls, cuddly toys, and princess paraphernalia. There was even a full shelf of plastic tiaras for Hannah to wear. Spotting the treasures, Hannah made a beeline and popped one on her head, completely askew. She then brought two others to Olivia and Jonathan.

  “Bibya, you princess,” she said, tugging on Olivia’s hand until she bent over so Hannah could bestow the tiara on her head. “And Daddy.”

  She expected Jonathan to balk at the girly hair accessory, but instead he picked Hannah up and waited patiently while she tried to fit it on his much larger head.

  “Now I’m beautiful, just like you,” Jonathan declared. “Hold still, everyone. I’m going to take a photo and send it to Nanna.” He whipped out his phone and took a snapshot of the three of them huddled together, wearing plastic tiaras. “Hannah,”—he put the little girl back on the floor—“why don’t you look in that big box over there while I show Olivia her bedroom? It’s just next door.”

  Hannah didn’t even look back as she discovered a trunk full of dress-up clothes.

  “When did you have time to get all this stuff?” Olivia asked to distract herself from the feel of Jonathan’s hand in hers as he led her from the room.

  “Best thing about online shopping is that you can do it at 2 a.m. when you can’t sleep because you’re thinking about a ravishing brunette 700 miles away.” He opened the door to her room with a flourish.

  For the second time that day, her mouth fell open in shock.

  • • •

  Jonathan stared at her face, astounded at the parade of emotions that crossed it. Olivia was acting as if no one had ever given her anything before.

  “How did you know?” Olivia whispered at last. There was a sheen of moisture in her eyes and her lips quivered.

  “Sophia designed it. She said you guys once discussed your dream houses. This is as close as we could get to your ideal bedroom. But if you don’t like it … ”

  “It’s the most beautiful room I’ve ever seen.” She walked over to the bedspread and ran her delicate hand over the cream duvet cover. For a second he envisioned Olivia, lying naked on the bed, beckoning him to join her. He shook his head, forcing the image from his mind. He wanted her to feel comfortable, relaxed, cared for. From the look on her face as she wandered about, reverently touching a few of the small decorative items, it was worth every penny of the 10,000 pounds he’d paid for the furniture to be express delivered and the painters and decorators to work through the night getting everything ready.