A Dangerous Infatuation

Home > Other > A Dangerous Infatuation > Page 8
A Dangerous Infatuation Page 8

by Chantelle Shaw


  ‘At no time did I abandon my grandmother.’

  Emma stared at the floor and wished she could sink through it. Once again she had jumped to conclusions and judged Rocco unfairly. ‘I had the impression from Cordelia that you had gone to Paris after her accident,’ she mumbled. ‘But she’s in shock, and it’s not surprising she’s confused. I’m sorry,’ she finished in a low tone.

  She bit her lip. She might have misjudged him over Cordelia, but the fact remained that he had hot-footed it off to Paris to see his mistress, and had probably spent Sunday afternoon … She frantically tried to block out the image of him and the beautiful Mademoiselle Pascal naked on a bed, making love.

  Acid burned in the pit of her stomach—indigestion, she reassured herself, not jealousy. Desperate to avoid looking at him, she busied herself with making a pot of tea.

  ‘Well, anyway, you’re back now.’ She strove to sound brisk and efficient. ‘When will the central heating be working again?’

  ‘It won’t,’ Rocco informed her tersely. ‘The problem is with the boiler, but the whole system is antiquated and needs replacing—which in a house this size could take weeks, if not months.’

  Emma gave him a startled look. ‘Cordelia can’t stay here when there is no heating.’

  ‘Of course not. I’m sure you agree that it is imperative I persuade her to come and stay at my home in Italy—by whatever means I can,’ Rocco added obliquely as he picked up the tea tray and strode out of the kitchen.

  Back in the sitting room, it became clear, when Emma poured the tea, that Cordelia was unable to hold a cup with her bruised fingers, and was struggling with her bandaged hand.

  ‘Let me help you,’ she said gently, feeling a wave of compassion for the elderly lady. Cordelia was so determined to hang on to her independence, but this latest accident had left her looking painfully frail.

  Rocco stoked the fire and added another log, glad of the excuse to turn away from his grandmother for a few moments. It struck him forcibly that Nonna was in the twilight years of her life. For a moment his eyes stung, and he blinked hard, telling himself it was because of the smoke.

  His mind drifted back to the past. It had been Nonna who had comforted him in the dark days after Gio’s death, and who had insisted that the accident hadn’t been his fault. He had overheard her telling his mother to stop blaming him, that Flora should have been responsible for her younger son rather than handing his care over to a teenage boy. His grandmother had been his friend and ally when he had needed her most. Now she needed him—and he would not fail her.

  He stood and walked back across the room, his eyes drawn to Emma, who was patiently helping Cordelia to sip her tea. She might be a termagant with him, but the gentle compassion she showed his grandmother was a rare quality that moved him deeply.

  Cordelia glanced at her injured hands and gave him a resigned look. ‘This is a pretty kettle of fish, isn’t it?’

  ‘It is indeed, Nonna. But fortunately I have the ideal solution.’ Rocco spoke firmly and without hesitation. ‘Emma has agreed to come to Portofino to be your nurse while you are recovering from your various injuries. Naturally she will be bringing Holly with her,’ he added, quickly reassuring the little girl, who had looked momentarily worried.

  He saw Emma stiffen, but before she could say a word Cordelia gave her a beaming smile tinged with tangible relief. ‘Oh, my dear—I can’t tell you how delighted I am. Rocco has been trying to persuade me to go and stay with him, but he leads a busy life, and I was afraid I would be lonely. But if you and Holly are going to be with me we’ll have a lovely holiday—before I come back to live at Nunstead,’ she said, her tone as firm as Rocco’s had been.

  ‘We’ll discuss that once you are fully recovered.’ Rocco deemed it wise not to push his luck with his stubborn grandmother. Conscious that if the look in Emma’s stormy eyes could kill, he would be dead by now, he focused on her daughter. ‘Would you like to come to Italy and stay in my house by the sea?’

  Holly nodded, her eyes as wide as saucers. ‘Can we go in the sea?’

  ‘The sun will soon be warm enough for us to go to the beach, and you can play in the garden with Bobbo, my dog.’

  Wonderful, Emma thought bitterly. If the promise of trips to the beach wasn’t enough, Rocco had a dog. Holly would be in seventh heaven. She stared at her daughter’s excited face and her heart sank. How could she disappoint an elderly lady and a small child by refusing to go to Italy? She glared at Rocco—who knew quite well that she could not.

  ‘Can I have a private word with you, to discuss arrangements?’ she murmured in a saccharine tone, so that Cordelia would not realise she wanted to murder her grandson.

  ‘Of course.’ Rocco gave her a bland smile. ‘Why don’t we step into the hall?’

  ‘You are unbelievable,’ she breathed, the moment she shut the sitting room door behind them.

  ‘I’m not certain you mean that as a compliment, but thank you.’

  Her fingers itched to wipe the amusement from his face. ‘You know damn well it wasn’t a compliment—just as you know my feelings about this trip to Portofino. I made my reasons clear as to why I can’t go.’

  ‘Actually, you failed to give any good reason for wanting to upset my grandmother and spoil Holly’s excitement.’

  ‘You had no right to use my daughter to try and get your own way. Emotional blackmail is unforgivable.’

  He shrugged. ‘In business, I’ll use any means at my disposal to win a deal, and the same goes for my private life. I want you to look after Cordelia, and if I have to use a little coercion to get what I want, so be it.’

  Beneath his charming façade there was a ruthless side to Rocco. He would make a dangerous adversary, Emma realised. But at the same time his loyalty and love for his grandmother were undeniable.

  ‘If you are worried about your job here in Northumberland, it’s fine. I’ve squared it for you,’ he told her.

  ‘What do you mean, you’ve squared it?’

  ‘I spoke to the head of the trust you work for and arranged for you to have three months’ unpaid leave. Mr Donaldson was most obliging—especially after I made a donation to the local cottage hospital.’

  Far from being grateful that he had resolved a significant reason for her decision not to go to Portofino, Emma was furious at his interference. ‘You treat people like puppets, don’t you?’ she snapped. ‘You think your money gives you the right to arrange my life to suit you. If you want the truth, I don’t want Holly to stay at your villa. A playboy’s love nest is not a suitable environment for a child.’

  While Rocco was absorbing this startling statement, she demanded, ‘Will Juliette Pascal be there? Or another of your lady friends, as Cordelia euphemistically describes them? Maybe you plan to entertain more than one? From what I’ve heard, you frequently juggle multiple mistresses.’

  ‘What an eye-watering vision you present,’ Rocco drawled. He studied her flushed face speculatively. ‘Juliette won’t be visiting the Villa Lucia because I ended our affair yesterday. It wasn’t really even an affair. We both lead busy lives and met up occasionally whenever we happened to be in the same city. It was an arrangement that suited both of us.’

  After Rosalinda he had made sure any woman he dated understood unequivocally that there was no chance he would ever want more than a casual affair. He noted Emma’s scathing expression and his jaw hardened.

  ‘Despite what you may have read in the tabloid newspapers, I only ever have mistresses in multiples of one.

  After kissing you on Saturday night, it was only right that I should end my relationship with Juliette. But I certainly wouldn’t have done so with a phone call.’

  Emma was struck dumb by his revelation. She felt a grudging respect that he had had the decency to end his affair in person. But had he slept with the beautiful model yesterday—enjoyed a final sex session for old times’ sake? she wondered, feeling acid burn in the pit of her stomach.

  ‘Why did you
end your affair because of one kiss?’ She strove to sound uninterested, not knowing that Rocco could see the uncertainty in her eyes. ‘You said yourself there was no need to get worked up about it.’ Unconsciously she worried the tender flesh of her lower lip with her teeth. ‘It meant nothing to either of us.’

  ‘Let’s see, shall we?’

  The sudden deepening of his voice should have triggered alarm bells, but he moved so quickly that she had no time to react. One arm snaked around her waist and pulled her hard up against him, while his other hand cupped her jaw as he covered her mouth with his.

  This time his kiss was no gentle seduction. This time it was urgent and demanding, born of a sense of frustration—not only at Emma’s stubbornness, but from the fact that ever since he had kissed her two nights ago all he had been able to think about was how soon he could repeat the experience. The feel of her soft curves pressed up against him heated his blood. Desire thundered through his veins, and he slid his hand from her jaw to tangle in her hair, tugging her head back so that he could plunder her soft, moist mouth.

  Desperately, Emma fought the temptation to sink into him and lose herself in the mastery of his kiss. The logical part of her brain reminded her that she did not want this. She functioned perfectly well without passion and desire in her life. Those emotions had brought her nothing but heartache in the past and she would be a fool to be seduced by their sorcery. So why, instead of pushing Rocco away, did she slowly uncurl her clenched fists and lay her hands flat against his chest?

  The determined probing of his tongue between her lips demolished her pitiful resistance and she gave a low moan as she opened her mouth for him, a tremor running through her when he explored her with devastating eroticism. Driven by a need she barely understood, she responded to him mindlessly.

  Sensing her capitulation, he changed the tenure of the kiss so that it became a flagrant seduction of her senses. She shivered when she felt him slide his hand beneath the edge of her jumper to stroke her bare flesh lightly above the waistband of her jeans. Her skin felt acutely sensitised, so that the brush of his fingertips caused needle-darts of pleasure to shoot through her. Silently she willed him to skim his hand higher, to slip it beneath her bra and touch her naked breasts. Her nipples felt hot and swollen, and she was conscious of the moist secretion between her legs, the ache that could only be relieved by pressing her pelvis against his thighs.

  She was utterly unprepared when he suddenly broke the kiss and lifted his head to stare down into her wide, stunned eyes. Realisation slowly dawned that she was clinging to him, and she snatched her hands from his body, scarlet colour flooding her face.

  Attack was her only form of defence. ‘How dare you?’

  He gave her a mocking look. ‘Your outrage would have a little more impact if you had not responded to me so ardently.’

  Rocco watched Emma pull the edge of her jumper firmly into place, feeling a curious tug on his heart when he saw that her hands were shaking. Her usually neat golden bob was mussed and had fallen forward across her cheek. He wanted to stroke her hair back from her face, but knew she would react like a wildcat if he attempted to touch her.

  Fool, Emma berated herself furiously, closing her eyes as shame swept over her. It was bad enough that she had allowed him to kiss her, but to compound her stupidity she had kissed him back with embarrassing eagerness—until he had pulled back. She hadn’t just responded to him ardently—she had practically eaten him alive!

  Through the sitting room door she could hear Holly singing ‘Twinkle Twinkle Little Star’, her sweet voice joined by Cordelia’s slightly wavering one. How could she walk back in and announce that she was not prepared to go to Italy as Cordelia’s private nurse? The thought of the disappointment her words would cause made her wince. But how could she stay at Rocco’s home after she had all but begged him to make love to her on the hall carpet? she wondered despairingly.

  Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to meet his gaze. ‘For Cordelia’s sake I will come to Portofino.’ Somehow she had to regain her dignity. ‘I’ll be happy to act as her nurse and companion, but I will not put up with you manhandling me.’

  ‘If I had manhandled you, I promise you would not be standing there fully dressed, cara,’ Rocco said dulcetly. Ignoring the daggers in her eyes, he reached into the pocket of his jeans and withdrew a slip of paper.

  Frowning, Emma took the cheque from him, stared at it for a moment, and then back at him. ‘I don’t understand what this is for.’

  ‘It’s your salary for the next three months.’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous. I earn this amount in a year.’

  He shrugged. ‘I want the best care for my grandmother. I know you will do everything possible to ensure she is comfortable and happy, and in return I am prepared to pay you well.’

  ‘Not this well.’ She shook her head briskly and tore the cheque in half. ‘You don’t have to offer me a bribe. I’m very fond of Cordelia and I want to look after her. All I require is the usual monthly salary I earn as a district nurse.’

  Rocco stared at her in frustration. And he had thought his grandmother was strong-willed! Nonna was a pushover compared to Emma. ‘But you could use the money as a deposit to buy Primrose Cottage.’

  ‘No.’ It was not even a consideration. ‘Anyway, the cottage has already been sold. One day I’ll have saved enough for a deposit on a house, but I’ll pay my own way in life,’ Emma said firmly. ‘I don’t want to feel indebted to anyone.’ She hesitated. ‘Neither do I want an affair with you. So if you were thinking you could pay me to …’

  ‘Madre de Dio!’ Rocco said harshly, his anger searing him like a white-hot branding iron. ‘That is one insult too far, Emma. I have never paid for a woman in my life.’ He stared at her haughtily, his skin stretched taut over his razor-sharp cheekbones, giving him a coldly autocratic appearance. ‘I don’t deny that I desire you, but when you come to my bed it will be of your own accord.’

  His arrogance infuriated her, but she was even angrier with herself for the damning flare of excitement his words evoked.

  ‘That’s never going to happen.’

  ‘Because you are still in love with your husband?’ he speculated. Once again he struggled to contain his frustration—with him, with her, and most of all with the primitive need to possess her that made his gut ache. The world was full of attractive blondes who would be happy to share his bed. Why was he bothering with this feisty, stubborn woman who constantly challenged him?

  Emma bit her lip, feeling an inexplicable urge to confide the truth about her marriage to Rocco. She could not, she reminded herself. For Holly’s sake, Jack’s duplicity must remain a secret. But her love for Jack had died with the discovery of how he had betrayed her. During the past three years she had come to terms with the hurt he had caused her, but her wariness and mistrust remained. Never again would she put herself in a position where her heart could be broken. She did not want any man in her life—certainly not a sexy Italian who regarded women as playthings.

  ‘Jack is the reason why I refuse to get involved with you—or with any other man,’ she said quietly.

  ‘Do you think he would have wanted you to condemn yourself to a life alone?’ Rocco demanded harshly.

  ‘Maybe not, but I have Holly to consider. What do you suggest I do? Indulge in casual affairs, introduce her to a series of “uncles” who she may become close to, only to see her upset when they move on?’

  ‘Of course not.’ He raked a hand through his hair, appalled by the image she presented.

  During his childhood his parents had both been openly unfaithful, and on the rare occasions when his mother had promised to visit him at his boarding school he had never been sure whether she would turn up with his father or one of her sleazeball boyfriends.

  But, while he had taken scant interest in his parents’ various lovers, it was likely that Holly, who had never known her own father, would welcome a father figure. Any man who became involved with Emm
a would need to recognise that he had a level of responsibility towards her child. A casual affair was out of the question—but that was all he could ever offer, Rocco thought grimly, all he would ever want.

  His parents’ volatile relationship had shown him that marriage was a gamble, with low odds of success. He was still haunted by Rosalinda’s suicide attempt after he had ended their affair, and since then had made it clear at the outset with the women he dated that he was not looking for commitment or a long-term relationship. That meant that Emma was off-limits. She would not consider indulging in a brief sexual fling, and he could not help but respect her for her decision. Unlike his mother, Emma put the welfare of her child before her own desires.

  The sitting room door suddenly opened and Holly appeared, happily oblivious to the tense atmosphere in the hall. ‘Nonna and me want to know when we are going to stay at your house,’ she asked Rocco.

  ‘Tomorrow.’ He ignored Emma’s sharply indrawn breath and smiled at the little girl.

  Big grey eyes, so like her mother’s, studied him anxiously. ‘Is Thomas coming too?’

  ‘No. Cats don’t like travelling on aeroplanes, so he is going to stay at Yaxley Farm.’

  When Holly trotted off to relay this information to Cordelia, Emma glared at Rocco. Panic gripped her. She was backtracking fast, bitterly regretting the moment of insanity that had seen her agree to go to Italy with him. ‘I can’t possibly be ready to leave tomorrow. There are dozens of things to do, arrangements to be made …’

  ‘All you have to do is pack yours and Holly’s things. Make a list of anything else that needs to be done and my PA will take care of everything. Stop looking for difficulties that don’t exist,’ Rocco told her tersely. ‘Because of the broken heating system I’m taking Cordelia to spend the night at the Royal Oak Hotel. But it’s not ideal. I want to take her to Portofino as soon as possible.’

 

‹ Prev