‘I’m sure he does.’ He admired her even more for her thoughtfulness. He also suspected that Jessica had set things up so that Sid felt valued, believing he was doing her a good turn. He was sure the hospital management didn’t know where the kittens spent the night. ‘How long have you been camping here?’
His question, getting to the core of the issue, had her tensing up again and she ducked her head, her hair falling forward, hiding her face.
‘Talk to me,’ he encouraged softly. With one finger beneath her chin, he urged her to look up again. ‘What’s going on, Jessica?’
Very conscious of Gio’s touch, Jess trembled. The pad of one finger, that was all, and yet her whole body felt alive, charged and vitally aware of him. It was so long since she’d been touched… at least before this week when Gio had done so several times, stirring up desires she’d managed to banish for the last four years. But she had to quash the yearnings Gio had reawakened because he—like everyone else—was out of bounds. Steeling herself, she drew back enough to break the physical connection, concerned how much she missed the contact.
In shock from Gio’s sudden arrival, fear built now that one of her secrets, albeit the least monumental and important of them, had been discovered. She didn’t want to tell him anything but how could she bluff her way out? Even if she could excuse the kittens, the damning evidence of the makeshift bed was impossible to explain away.
‘Jessica?’
‘I, um, recently moved into my cottage,’ she began shakily, unsure how much to tell him. ‘The storm ten days ago destroyed the roof, causing water damage and the electricity being shut off. I tried to say there anyway…’
‘Dio! With no power and no roof?’ he exclaimed, muttering something uncomplimentary in Italian.
Jess lowered her gaze. ‘It was only one night. I was concerned for the kittens,’ she explained, failing to add that not only had it been miserable with no electricity or hot water but that she’d been spooked in the isolated cottage with no security.
‘So you’ve been staying here since then?’
‘Yes,’ she admitted with reluctance.
She couldn’t help but be mesmerised by the way Gio continued to stroke Dickens, his fingers sinking into the soft fur. The kitten was enjoying it if his purrs were anything to go by. It made her think dangerous and never-to-be-allowed things… like how it would feel to have Gio’s fingers caress her body from top to toe. She had no doubt she’d be purring, too.
Looking down lest he read anything in her eyes, Jess struggled to push her wayward thoughts away because no matter how much she may crave his touch, it wasn’t going to happen.
‘Why here, though?’ Gio’s voice reclaimed her attention. ‘Why not stay at a hotel… or with friends?’
She fudged an answer, mumbling about the need to keep the kittens with her and everywhere being fully booked at the height of the season, because no way was she going to tell him the truth about the sorry state of her finances or that she didn’t have any friends. Not the kind she could stay with, anyway. To explain either would involve the impossible?revealing what she could never reveal… why.
Why she had crashed and burned so badly…
Why her life had changed so drastically and irrevocably four years ago…
And why she was now counting the cost in so many ways, not just financially but professionally?hence her change of career and re-training in her mid-twenties to become a counsellor?and socially?keeping people at a distance and denying herself the closeness, emotional or physical, she had once enjoyed as a normal part of life. Nothing about her life these last four years had been normal. But she’d succeeded, she was coping… or had been until Gio had arrived, bringing home all she had lost and making her yearn for things she could never have again.
‘It’s only for a short while.’ She crossed her fingers, hoping that was true. ‘The insurance company have agreed to the repairs and the builders are starting work next week. As soon as possible, I’ll move back in.’
‘You can’t stay here and live like this until then, Jessica,’ he protested, clearly upset about the situation.
‘It’s not so bad,’ she countered, trying for a carefree smile. ‘I don’t have any choice.’
‘Of course you do.’
His words and the determined tone of his voice made her nervous. ‘What do you mean?’
‘As of now, you’re moving in with me.’
CHAPTER SIX
UNOBSERVED, Gio leaned against the doorjamb and watched as Jessica carried out some graceful Tai Chi movements. She was dressed in a loose T-shirt, shorts that left shapely legs bare from mid-thigh down, and a pair of trainers, her vibrant curls restrained in a ponytail. He never tired of looking at her. Taking a sip of his coffee, he waited for her to finish her routine.
It was the August bank holiday weekend and they both had two days off. Jessica had been in his house for two weeks. She’d protested, but there had never been any question in his mind about where she should stay. He couldn’t let her camp in her office. She’d wanted to pay rent, he’d said no, but they’d compromised and she made a contribution towards food and supplies.
She’d also set rules. No touching. And nothing more than a platonic friendship. He’d agreed. Sort of. Temporarily. If setting them and keeping things on a friendly footing was what Jessica needed to begin with, he would play along. For now. That she’d felt the need to make rules at all proved she felt the same electric awareness he did.
He was using the time to gain Jessica’s trust and continuing to get her used to his touch. He stopped the moment she withdrew or showed signs of disquiet. As the days went by, it was taking her longer to step away. He had yet to discover why she struggled so hard to deny the attraction.
Having coaxed her and the kittens home that Saturday night, the next day they had driven to her cottage. He’d grown up bilingual thanks to his parents and his American-born maternal grandmother, but, however fluent he was in English, he swore best in Italian and he’d unconsciously reverted to his native language as he surveyed the state of Jessica’s home. It had been far worse than he’d imagined.
Built of stone and sitting in an isolated spot surrounded by untended land, the large cottage was single storey. The thatched roof and rotten rafters had collapsed inwards, wrecking several rooms beneath, letting in the rain and rendering the place uninhabitable. He’d seen the promise, had visualised the picture-book traditional cottage as it would be when it was finished, but that Jessica had tried to stay in what was little more than a ruin had astounded him.
Turning round, he’d seen the pained expression on Jessica’s face, and realised the effect his rant was having on her. Reverting to English, he’d gentled his tone and closed the gap between them. His nature was to touch, to hug, to comfort, and it had been difficult to stop himself from drawing her into his arms.
Slowly he’d raised one hand and cupped her cheek, marvelling at the peachy softness of her skin. ‘I’m sorry. I was not shouting at you, just at the state of the place and knowing someone would sell it to you in such a perilous condition.’
Some of the tension had drained from her, and for a second she’d leaned into his touch. He’d brushed the pad of his thumb across the little hollow between her chin and her mouth, watching as her lips had parted instinctively and her eyelids lowered in response. She hadn’t actually purred like one of the kittens, but her reaction had been unmistakeable. He’d so wanted to kiss her, but the moment had ended as she’d withdrawn into herself, turning her head away to break the contact.
‘If the cottage had been in better condition I couldn’t have afforded it,’ she’d told him. ‘I knew the roof was dodgy…’ She’d given a wry laugh as she’d looked at the blue sky visible between what remained of the rotten rafters. ‘I didn’t expect it to cave in with the first storm.’
He’d never had to worry about money, and he knew how lucky he was, never taking things for granted. The business had made his family wealthy and mo
ney cushioned many blows. Except grief. Nothing eased the pain of that, but at least he’d been in a position to fund the trust in Sofia’s name and help other people. He hated to think of Jessica struggling to make ends meet, and wondered why she had apparently sunk every penny she’d had into such a run-down, if potentially lovely, cottage, with no money left over to furnish it… or why she hadn’t stayed in a hotel when she’d been forced to vacate it. Why had she been so insistent on buying outright rather than taking a small mortgage or personal loan to leave her some working capital?
For now Jessica and the kittens were living with him. Having been alone for five years, he’d been nervous of her moving in but it felt scarily right. They fitted. As this was the first time he’d been attracted to another woman, he’d struggled with feelings of disloyalty. Something Sofia would chastise him for, having made it clear she didn’t want him to remain alone.
Living with someone revealed so much about them and unearthed little ways and habits previously unsuspected and which could be irritating out of all proportion. So far he’d not discovered anything annoying about Jessica but there were several things that intrigued and amused him. One was the collection of assorted vitamin and dietary supplements she had stacked at one end of the kitchen worktop. He had no idea what they were for or why she felt she needed them. She was fastidious about washing up any of the crockery or cutlery she used, sorting them into a neat pile separate from his.
‘Do you have a hygiene fetish?’ he’d asked with a chuckle that first weekend, but his humour had rapidly faded given her reaction.
‘No, of course not.’
The words of denial had been accompanied by a forced, hollow laugh, but it had been the unmistakeable hurt mixed with alarm and embarrassment in her eyes that had grabbed him.
‘I didn’t mean to upset you,’ he’d apologised softly.
‘You haven’t.’
It had been a lie, he knew it. Just as he knew that something about what he had said or how he had said it had stung her.
The more he observed about her, including her anxiety at touching and being touched, the more he wondered if she’d experienced a bad relationship. Had someone criticised her, controlled her or, what he most feared, hurt and abused her?
Jess pivoted on one leg, turning her body in his direction, and he stifled a laugh when she spotted him, her eyes widening in surprise as she missed her step and stumbled momentarily before regaining her balance.
‘Hi,’ she murmured, embarrassment now predominant in her olive green eyes.
‘Morning.’ He straightened as she approached him warily, always keeping that extra bit of distance. ‘Are you done?’
The fingers of one hand tucked stray wisps of hair back from her face. ‘Just about. Why?’
‘I have something to show you. Come with me.’
‘Where are we going?’ Jess asked as Gio drove away from the house.
‘I can’t tell you.’
She frowned at his unsatisfactory response. ‘Why not?’
‘Because then it would not be a surprise, would it?’ he reasoned with calm amusement.
With no information forthcoming, Jess rested back in the luxurious seat of the sleek sports car. She hated to admit how much of a thrill she got each time she rode in it. As Gio turned out of the drive and onto the B-road that hugged the coastline on its route to St Piran, Jess glanced across the fields to the house she had been living in for the last fortnight. How could she feel so comfortable and yet scared at the same time?
The house sat atop the cliff as if carved from the bedrock and perfectly suited its Cornish name, Ninnes, ‘the isolated place’. At first glance it suited Gio, too—wild, remote, alone.
‘It’s very impressive,’ she’d murmured when she had first seen inside the architect-designed property. It didn’t feel like a home. Clinical, cold, unlived in, it was like a set from an interior design magazine.
‘Now tell me what you really think,’ Gio had invited with a smile. ‘It is soulless, no? A show-house, not a home,’ he added, mirroring her own thoughts. ‘The agent instructed to rent a place for me must have imagined someone moving from London would like it.’
‘And you don’t?’ she’d asked, relieved this was not what he would have chosen for himself.
‘No. But it gives me time to find something I do want and at least I have a roof over my head in the meantime.’
A laugh had burst from her at his unintentional choice of words and the expression on his face as the reason for her reaction dawned on him… she was there because she currently did not have a roof over hers!
Judging by the tone of his tirade when he had seen the state of her cottage, it had been worse than he’d expected. Had the property been in better condition, it would have been way beyond her budget, even with the unexpected legacy that had allowed her to step onto the housing ladder. But she had fallen in love with the place, and its parcel of neglected land that would allow her to have more animals and grow her own produce.
That Gio had seen the potential in the cottage had pleased her, and telling him about her plans for the place had diverted him from his questions about her reasons for not taking out a mortgage or personal loan. Either would have enabled her to get on with the renovations and furnishing the house straight away, but when she had looked into funding she had been asked questions about herself that she’d no wish to answer—and which may have meant she’d have been turned down anyway. She couldn’t explain that to Gio without explaining why. And that was impossible.
So she had succumbed to Gio’s arguments and the shameful temptation of moving in with him. Dickens and Kipling were in heaven. She was halfway between heaven and hell. They’d settled into a routine, their friendship becoming closer every day. Contrarily, his agreement to her rules and conditions had brought an inner stab of disappointment, though she knew friendship was all they could ever share.
Her hormones raged in protest, and she had to fight her attraction to him. Keeping people at a safe distance had become ingrained within her these last four years, but Gio was breaching her defences. He made her want things she could no longer have, reminding her of broken dreams and abandoned hopes.
‘Jessica?’
‘Mmm?’ She blinked as Gio’s voice impinged on her consciousness. ‘Sorry, did you say something?’
He chuckled. ‘Several times, but you are living with goblins! That is the saying, yes?’ he added as she stared at him blankly.
‘Sorry?’ she repeated, confused for a moment before realisation dawned. ‘Oh! You mean away with the fairies! No, I was just thinking.’ A flush warmed her cheeks. No way could she tell him where her thoughts had really been.
‘We are here,’ he said now, switching off the engine.
They were at the harbourside in St Piran, Jess discovered, scrambling out of the car before Gio could come round and offer a hand to help her. The less she touched him, the better. He took some things from the car, including a picnic basket, handing her a canvas bag with towels, spare T-shirts and some sunscreen. Apprehension unsettled her. She hadn’t realised this was a day’s outing.
Her gaze feasted on the sight of him dressed in deck shoes and shorts that left well-defined muscular legs bare from mid-thigh downwards. His torso was encased in a white T-shirt that emphasised the tone of his skin and hugged the contours of his athletic body. Jess bit her lip to stop a sigh of appreciation from escaping
‘Have you been on a boat before?’ he asked, guiding her towards a jetty along which several very expensive-looking craft were moored.
‘Only a car ferry.’
His throaty laugh stole her breath. ‘This isn’t quite the same.’
Jess gathered that as he halted by a huge, gleaming, red-and-white speedboat. ‘Oh, my.’
She gazed at the boat in awe, excitement mounting as she anticipated what it would feel like to ride in the kind of jet-powered boat she’d seen offshore racing on television. The name Lori was written on the side and she w
ondered at the significance.
‘My one indulgence… apart from my car,’ he told her with a touch of embarrassment.
‘It’s beautiful.’ She smiled, imagining the thrill of speeding across the waves. ‘How long have you had it?’
Relaxing, as if relieved at her reaction, he smiled the rare, special smile that reached his eyes, banishing the shadows that often lurked there and trapping the breath in her lungs. ‘About eighteen months. I could not get out often when I was in London and she was moored on the south coast, but I hope to use her often here.’
Gio climbed aboard with practised ease, set down the items he was carrying and turned to help her. Jess swallowed. Adopting avoidance tactics, she gave him her bags instead of her hand.
‘I can manage,’ she told him, cursing the way he quirked an eyebrow and watched with amusement as she scrambled inelegantly over the side.
To her surprise, the luxury powerboat had a small but fully equipped cabin below, with a tiny kitchen, a minuscule washroom and a seating area that converted into a sleeping space for three people. They’d have to be very friendly, Jess thought. After putting the picnic items in the fridge, they went back outside and Gio collected two life-jackets from a locker.
‘Are these necessary?’ Jess asked as he handed one to her.
‘Absolutely.’ He fastened his in no time. ‘I would never take risks with your safety.’
She knew that. They might not have known each other long but she trusted him implicitly. It was herself she worried about, she thought wryly as she struggled with the life-jacket, huffing with frustration as it defeated her.
‘Here,’ Gio chuckled, closing the gap between them. ‘Let me help.’
‘It’s OK…’
Her protest fell on deaf ears as he took over. Did he need to touch her that much? Or so slowly and intimately? And he was far too close—so close that every breath she took was fragranced with his musky male scent, weakening her resolve and tightening the aching knot in the pit of her stomach. She couldn’t stop breathing so she closed her eyes and tightened her hands into fists, praying for the exquisite torture to be over and reminding herself why she couldn’t succumb to temptation. He was taking longer than necessary, surely, the brush of his fingers burning her through the fabric of her T-shirt.
St Piran's: Italian Surgeon, Forbidden Bride Page 7