His narrowed gaze lingered on her flushed face. ‘And that,’ he said, casually flicking her nose with his forefinger, ‘is going to peel.’
Erin started and pressed her hand to her face. Even if his olive-toned skin had been exposed to the sun it wasn’t going to burn, just acquire a deeper glow.
‘I hadn’t planned on getting lost.’ The antagonism died from her flushed face as her dreamily speculative glance drifted to the vee of exposed flesh at the base of his throat.
Was the skin on the rest of his body a similar warm shade? Erin blinked and released a horrified gasp as she realised she had been mentally undressing the man!
Not even sunstroke could excuse that!
‘And I hadn’t planned on running into you, but life,’ he reflected with a sardonic inflection in his deep voice, ‘is full of surprises. Some more pleasing than others.’
He didn’t specify which category she came into, but Erin could only assume that he had other things he’d prefer to be doing rather than offering assistance to an ungrateful tourist with a red nose.
He walked across to the truck and opened the passenger door. ‘Are you getting in?’
Erin’s glance slid from the door to his face. She released a sigh and nodded her head. ‘I suppose I don’t have much choice.’
‘There’s always a choice.’
Which was exactly what the rational voice in her head, which she had been studiously ignoring, had been telling her. It had also told her that relying on instinct when it came to assessing a man’s character was not exactly scientific.
But short of demanding a character reference gut instinct was all she had to go on and she needed to get back to her hotel somehow.
Approaching the truck, she frowned. The cab seemed to be feet off the ground and there were no steps. ‘How am I meant to get up there?’
‘Like this,’ he said, placing both hands around her waist and swinging her off the ground.
Erin let out a startled squeal as she found herself unceremoniously dumped in the passenger seat. She sat there trying to recover her badly dented composure while he picked up her bike and slung it in the open rear of the truck before walking around to the driver’s side and climbing in beside her.
‘You could have been more careful. The people I hired the bike from are going to charge me if—’ She stopped gave a horrified wail and yelled, ‘Wait! My camera!’
It was only his restraining hand on her shoulder that stopped her leaping out again.
‘Be still.’
Despite her distress at the thought of the camera she could not easily afford to replace being ruined, Erin responded to the calm air of command in his voice and leaned back in her seat.
‘Now tell me what is wrong.’
‘My camera is in the pannier on the bike.’
‘Camera?’
She could tell from his expression that he thought she was making a lot of fuss over a few holiday snaps.
‘I’m a photographer and I—’
‘Stay there,’ he said, opening the door.
Erin stuck her head out of the open window and craned her neck while he climbed into the rear of the truck. A few moments later he returned with her precious camera in his hand. ‘Here,’ he said, passing it in to her through the open window before going around to the driver’s side.
Erin turned her head as he climbed in.
‘So you are a photographer?’ He didn’t sound impressed.
She nodded. ‘Nothing grand,’ she said, in case he got the wrong idea. ‘I do weddings, christenings, family portraits, that sort of thing … bread-and-butter stuff.’
‘So you are not one of that breed who chase celebrities?’
‘God, no, nothing like that. I did think once I might like to do more …’ She heard the wistful enthusiasm in her voice and stopped. ‘Family circumstances keep me close to home.’
‘You have a dependent family?’
‘Not the way you mean,’ she said, thinking that, even had she wanted to, it would have been hard to explain the set-up at home.
Erin had been in her teens before she had realised that other people’s fathers did not regularly leave home. She believed the generic term for men like her father was serial adulterer. Jack Foyle always came back suitably contrite, and was always forgiven. But during his absences her mother would go to pieces and become totally unable to cope.
If she hadn’t always been there to coax her out of the darkened room and her talk of being unable to go on Erin dreaded to think what would have happened.
She was conscious of his dark eyes on her face as she pretended to examine her camera, but he did not press the point. But then, she reflected, why should he? The domestic circumstances of some accident-prone tourist could hardly interest him.
She flickered a sideways glance in his direction as he turned the ignition. His stern profile was quite stunningly perfect. Ironically he had a face that screamed out to be photographed, though whether any film could capture the raw masculinity he exuded was doubtful.
All the same she would have liked to try.
He turned his head and caught her staring and Erin lowered her gaze.
‘There’s water somewhere.’ He banged a lever with his fist and a door dropped down revealing a bottle of water.
Erin’s throat was so dry it hurt and she nodded her thanks. The bottle was ice-cold in her fingers as she lifted it to her mouth and took a long swallow, then with a sigh she rested the cool plastic against her throat.
‘Better?’
She turned her head and nodded, then frowned suspiciously as she realised what he was doing. ‘Why are you turning around?’
‘Because you were going in the wrong direction. Did you really plan to walk all the way back?’
Erin, unwilling to reveal she hadn’t actually had a plan, shrugged. ‘My friends would have come looking for me eventually.’
‘The same friends you had to escape from?’
The reminder that she had used him as a sounding-board to offload all the frustrations made her squirm in her seat and avoid his eyes. ‘When I said that I didn’t think you could understand me.’
‘No, you thought I was beautiful and stupid, but I was forgetting you prefer the sensitive types. Do you have one on the scene at the moment?’
Erin, her cheeks burning with embarrassment, glared at him with loathing. ‘I’d tell you what I really think of you, but I’m too polite,’ she choked. ‘Not that you’d know what good manners were if they bit you.’
‘You know,’ he mused, slowing as they approached a hairpin bend in the road, ‘I think you actually like me.’ His dark gaze brushed her face. ‘You’re just in denial.’
Her scornful laugh locked in her throat; his comment was too close to the truth to joke about. ‘I’ll be in a ditch if you don’t keep your eyes on the road.’
‘You want to drive?’
Erin shook her head; actually she wanted to sleep. Her muscles, some she hadn’t known she possessed, ached from the unaccustomed strenuous physical activity. She slapped her cheeks lightly, fighting to shake the creeping exhaustion that weighed her eyelids.
‘If you’re tired take a nap.’
Stifling another yawn, Erin turned her head quickly and found he was studying the road ahead. He really was quite spookily perceptive.
‘I’m not tired,’ she denied brightly.
‘Afraid I’ll take advantage?’
Under the sweep of her lashes her glance lingered on his upper arms where the fabric of his shirt was stretched taut by the strongly defined muscles. She wrapped her arms around herself as a shivery sensation passed through her body. The fact was, if he decided to take advantage there wasn’t a lot she could do about it asleep or awake!
There were some advantages, she reflected, to looking like a survivor in a disaster movie. ‘If you’re trying to make me feel nervous don’t bother … I can take care of myself.’
‘Yes, I can see that. I have been staggered by you
r resourcefulness.’ His brows lifted. ‘No smart comeback? You must be tired.’
‘I’m fine.’
Despite the claim she lost the battle to stay awake a few minutes later.
A hand on her shoulder woke her. Disorientated, she fought her way back to wakefulness, blinking as the dark features of her rescuer swam into focus.
She shot upright in her seat. ‘I fell asleep … where?’
Erin opened her gritty eyes fully and saw they were driving through the hotel gates. She stifled a yawn and turned to look at her rescuer; the breath snagged in her throat as his incredible good looks hit her afresh.
She wondered who woke up and saw that face each morning. She knew there had to be someone—this was not a man who slept alone!
Her eyes slid to his left hand.
‘No, I’m not married,’ he said without looking at her.
Maybe not, but he was spookily perceptive.
‘Which makes it all right for you to be interested, cara.‘
The guilty colour flew to her cheeks. ‘I’m not interested!’
His smile was insolent and so confident that she could have screamed. ‘Of course you’re not,’ he drawled.
‘My God, you really do think you’re God’s gift!’ she choked in disgust, while privately conceding that he had more justification for thinking it than most men. ‘I’m not looking for a holiday romance.’
‘I’m not offering you one.’
He drew up beside a Mercedes and, switching off the engine, ignored the red-faced doorman who was waving his arms energetically.
‘I think he’s afraid you’ll lower the tone.’
The possibility appeared not to bother her chauffeur. His long, curling lashes brushed the angle of his cheeks as his gaze slid speculatively over her slim figure. ‘I scrub up pretty well,’ he revealed modestly. ‘Maybe I’ll show you some time.’
Erin, conscious of her heart thudding hard behind her breastbone, tried to appear amused by the comment. It wasn’t easy when in her head she was seeing him standing naked under the jets of a shower.
Outside on the forecourt a second uniformed figure had joined the near apoplectic footman. Each appeared to be urging the other to approach the truck, but neither seemed too eager to do so. Erin welcomed the diversion.
‘I think they,’ she said nodding out the window, ‘are trying to get your attention.’
His dark eyes remained on her face. ‘You have my attention.’
And I so wish I didn’t!
Erin swallowed. A wave of heat enveloped her as their gazes meshed. ‘Lucky me.’
‘As it happens it was lucky for you that I happened by today.’
‘Oh, gosh, yes!’ She felt stupid for realising that, far from flirting with her, he wanted compensating for his time. A mortified flush spread over her skin. ‘Of course I’ll pay you for your time and the petrol. My wallet is in my room—if you’ll just wait I’ll—’
He caught her arm. ‘I’m not sure you could afford me … but, no matter, you can have this one on the house.’
She shook her head, very conscious of his cool fingers on her overheated skin … Her skin wasn’t the only thing overheated; her imagination was working overtime. Was the sexual tension she was feeling real or a figment of that imagination?
‘Look, I’ve taken a big chunk out of your day. I’m sure there were other things that you needed to do and—’
‘You think I need the money.’ The realisation seemed for some reason to amuse him.
Her eyes slid from his.
‘Don’t worry, I’m a modern man, my male pride can take your pity. Tell you what—how about a compromise?’
‘What sort of compromise?’ she asked suspiciously.
‘You buy me dinner.’
‘Dinner!’ Her startled eyes flew to his.
He nodded. ‘Yes, dinner, at a place of my choice. That’s settled, then.’
‘Settled? I didn’t say yes.’
‘And you didn’t say no. I’ll be in touch about our date.’
‘It’s not a date,’ she protested weakly.
‘Look, I don’t mean to hurry you, but I think I’m about to be thrown out.’ He leaned past her and opened the door. He was so close that she could smell the shampoo he used. She closed her eyes as a rush of hormones made her head spin.
When she opened them his face was still close. Their eyes locked and Erin felt things that were way too complicated to be explained by hormones alone.
‘Yes,’ she whispered in a voice that seemed to be coming from a long way off. ‘Yes, I will buy you dinner.’
Taking her chin in his hand, he brushed his lips against hers. The contact was so soft that she barely felt it, but she melted inside.
‘My name, cara, is Francesco, and I’ll be in touch very soon.’ He nudged the door so that it swung open and leaned back in his seat.
Conscious of his eyes, Erin fumbled with her belt and jumped out, her knees trembling as she walked towards the building.
He’s going to forget you exist the moment he drives away, said the voice in her head.
In retrospect it would have been better that he had.
CHAPTER FOUR
THE minor road Francesco now found himself on was narrow and congested. It was fifteen minutes and several miles later before he found a convenient spot to pull over, a bus stop just on the edge of a village.
There was no breeze and without the air-conditioning running the heat inside the car began to build. Ironically it had been hotter in London when he’d landed than it had been in Rome when he had left. He shrugged off his jacket and wound down the window of the car. It was the first spot of fresh air he’d got since disembarking from his private jet.
Flexing his broad shoulders to relieve the tension that had crept into the muscles, he ran a hand down the curve of his angular jaw, frowning as he felt the dark growth that already cast a visible dusky shadow over his lower face.
As his long brown fingers tugged at the knot of his silk tie he withdrew the phone from his pocket, but before he had flicked it open his attention was captured by raucous cries outside.
He turned his head automatically in the direction of the noise; his dark, curling lashes brushed against perfectly sculpted cheekbones against which his olive-toned skin pulled taut.
His dark glance was disinterested as he looked across to the bus shelter, where a trio of youths were gathered around a girl.
From where he sat Francesco could not see her face, but he could see that she had red hair, the fiery copper-type red that looked like burnished gold in sunlight.
He inhaled sharply, his nostrils flaring in self-derision as he recognised his total inability to control the flood of images that invaded his head. Vivid images that drew his thoughts inexorably backwards until the world around him became less real than that searing kiss. His breath deepened and slowed as the memories took hold.
Erin’s soft body was in his arms again, warm, pliant and supple. It was so real he could smell her hair and feel the thud of her heart through the hand he cupped over one small but perfect breast.
Her half-closed passion-glazed eyes, drowning blue and filled with total surrender as she looked up at him, her parted lips a seductive invitation as, warm and sweet-smelling, her breath fluttered against his mouth.
Their date was not going well. During the preceding hours he had thought about kissing her, but not like this! This unpremeditated kiss had been generated partly from sheer frustration. His plan, if such a crazy idea could be couched in those terms, was unravelling before him and, instead of reacting like nine out of ten women, Erin had laughed and acted as though the whole situation were some kind of joke.
Hysteria he could have risen above, but not the infectious giggles that had emerged from her lovely lips as she’d watched him resort to kicking the tyres of the truck.
He had wrenched open the door, furious beyond reason. ‘You’re a jinx!’ he accused, thinking longingly of the Mercedes he had dr
iven out of the city only the previous week.
Francesco was seriously beginning to regret suggesting the temporary exchange with Ramon, who would be enjoying the benefits of the air-conditioned luxury of that top-of-therange model.
Considering the situation he now found himself in, Francesco was forced to ask himself if the man who cared for his string of thoroughbred Arabian horses had not had a point when he had questioned his employer’s sanity … He could think of several people in the financial circles he moved in who, if they’d been able to see him now, would have had no doubts about it.
Francesco Romanelli, they would have declared, has finally lost it! The only person he could imagine applauding his crazy actions was Rafe, his twin, who, had he still been alive, would have said—About time! Though even he might have raised an eyebrow at the extent to which his twin had embraced his new image.
His harsh accusation made Erin stop laughing. ‘And you’re about as much fun as earache,’ she told him frankly.
It took a few moments before he recovered from the shock of being spoken to this way, with none of the respect he automatically took as his due, before he responded.
And that was when he kissed her.
He slid into the driver’s seat, leaned across and took her face between his hands. ‘You want fun? Fine!’ And he lowered his mouth to hers.
The moment their lips touched he lost all control. Nothing that had gone before had prepared him for the searing heat that exploded inside him like a fireball, spreading and consuming him, wiping away every vestige of rational thought and leaving only primal need and hunger.
Nothing that had gone before had prepared him for Erin Foyle!
He could hear her voice in his head, huskily erotic. She said his name as it was wrenched from deep in the heart of her … repeating it over and over, making the syllables sound like a throaty plea as she wound her fingers into his hair, her head thrown back as he kissed the curve of her pale throat.
When they broke apart, both breathing hard, she looked like someone in a trance, her incredible blue eyes glazed and dilated as she looked up at him.
Experiencing a wave of overwhelming tenderness, he cupped her chin, drawing her face up to his, stroking the curve of her soft cheek with his forefinger. The hunger was still there like a prickle under his skin but at least he had it in check.
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