At The Italian's Bidding (A Hot Italian Nights Novella Book 5)

by Annie West

  Except that when he looked at Lia he felt things he shouldn’t feel for his best friend’s little sister.

  For the longest time she surveyed him. Her scrutiny was more intense than when his team watched the replay of his races, looking for ways to shave another few seconds of the records.

  ‘What about clothes? I don’t have couture dresses or expensive jewellery.’

  Warmth spilled through his chest. Relief. She’d as good as agreed, if she was thinking about her wardrobe.

  ‘You don’t need haute couture.’ It was on the tip of his tongue to say she’d look stunning in whatever she wore, but he caught himself in time. ‘Just be yourself. No-one expects you to be anything else.’

  Her lips pouted mutinously and Niccolo had the sudden urge to lean in and nip those luscious lips with his teeth. Warning sirens wailed in his brain and he shoved his hands into the pockets of his trousers.

  ‘Be myself but pretend to be your girlfriend?’ She didn’t sound pleased about it but nor did she refuse. Finally she nodded and turned away. ‘Just give me time to pack something for a party. I assume it’s formal?’

  Niccolo nodded, strangely humbled by her acquiescence.

  ‘Thank you, Lia. I appreciate this.’

  ‘Save your thanks for later, Niccolo. If we manage to get through the weekend okay.’

  Chapter Two

  * * *

  This was a mistake . The jittery feeling down Lia’s spine was testament to that.

  Despite the custom-designed luxury of Niccolo’s car, she couldn’t relax in the soft leather seat or concentrate on the blurring scenery as they passed.

  Even though she was no longer a starry-eyed teenager who saw Niccolo as some sort of demi-god, the idea of spending the weekend with him unsettled her.

  Besides, she hated being part of a deception.

  So why agree?

  Was it really out of obligation because he’d salvaged her pride all those years ago? He’d gone far beyond what anyone else would have done in the circumstances. Plus he’d never uttered one word of reproach for the fact that she’d lied, spinning her pathetic fantasies in public.

  Or was it because, when all was said and done, she wanted to be with him?

  The idea was so unsettling her thoughts skittered away.

  ‘Tell me the truth. Why lie to your grandmother? Just because she invited you to bring a friend doesn’t mean you must.’ The Niccolo she knew was honest to the core, just like her brothers. Or so she’d always believed.

  She turned and looked at his profile, then wished she hadn’t. Her gaze traced his straight nose, full, sensuous lips and high cheekbones. A squiggle of sensation stirred deep down inside her, an unsettling awareness.

  His jaw tightened. ‘She’s been…unwell lately.’ A swift sideways glance sent a fizz of heat spiralling through Lia and she shifted in her ergonomically luxurious seat. ‘Though she wouldn’t want anyone to know that.’

  ‘I won’t mention it.’

  Niccolo nodded and turned back to the road. ‘I know that.’

  The simple words with their quiet certainty meant a lot. She’d never be more than a friend to Niccolo, but that, in itself, was special.

  ‘She’s not ill now. At least, she’s slowly recuperating. But…’ He shrugged and pulled out to pass a slow moving truck. ‘Her illness was a wake-up call to all of us that she’s not getting any younger. She has her heart set on seeing me happy, which I am, but her definition of happy is hearts and flowers and a woman by my side.’

  The way he said it, with an almost cynical curl of his lips, made Lia wonder what he had against romance. Surely, amongst all those gorgeous blondes he dated, he’d found some he liked?

  Of course he has. He just doesn’t want to settle for one! He’s having too much fun playing the field .

  ‘Surely it’s better to be honest with her and say you’re just not ready for that?’

  His smile was tight. ‘I’ve been doing that for years. She knows. But she caught me out this week, assuming I was bringing a friend as she’d requested.’ He laughed but there was no humour in it. ‘She didn’t sound her usual self, she sounded…’ He shrugged. ‘Nonna is the least needy person I know. She’s strong, iron-willed in fact, and she doesn’t cling, but the other day…’ He shook his head. ‘Let’s just say that for once I didn’t want to disappoint her on this as I usually do.’

  Slowly Lia nodded. Her own grandparents were hale and hearty now but just last year, when her own nonna had fallen and fractured her hip, it had struck home how vulnerable they were as they aged.

  ‘Don’t fret, Lia. It’s just a weekend. Relax and enjoy the party. Nonna still throws the best ones, you know. There’ll be plenty of interesting people and my cousins are good company.’

  Lia tried to do as he said and relax. It shouldn’t have been difficult. Driving with Niccolo was a pleasure. She’d wondered if, given his love of speed and his racing experience, he’d treat the road like a speed circuit. But though his mastery of the sleek, powerful vehicle was there in his effortless manoeuvring and quick acceleration, he drove within the speed limit. He never took chances that made her nervous.

  With him she felt safe.

  Her nostrils flared in a huff of self-derision. She’d always felt safe with Niccolo. The problem wasn’t him, it was her. For there was a tiny, self-destructive part of her that still wondered what it would be like not to feel safe with him. To feel the thrill, the dangerous excitement of mutual desire.

  She was destined never to find out.

  ‘Did you say something?’

  Lia shook her head. ‘Not a thing.’ Yet her thoughts kept whirring, her mind too wired to rest, though there was nothing to do but sit back and let Niccolo drive.

  And try to ignore the deeply appealing, earthy scent that tingled in her nostrils. She’d know it anywhere. It hinted at cool, dark forests and warm male skin and it was innate to Niccolo. Years ago she’d thought it was some carefully balanced aftershave, but now she knew it was simply essence of Niccolo, unadulterated and headily delicious.

  It was still her favourite fragrance.

  What did that say about her? She shuddered to think.

  *

  The Villa Marchesi was unlike anything Lia had ever seen. Oh, she’d visited several of her brother Luca’s famously elegant, exclusive hotels, even worked in one. Plus her brothers, all successful in their own careers, had lovely homes. But this was something different again, hidden deep within hectares of the most gorgeous gardens. Sweet wisteria scented the early evening air and she glimpsed colonnades dripping with delicate, white cascades of it. There were hedges and flower beds, tall, spreading trees and lawns so immaculate they looked like someone had unrolled an emerald carpet.

  And beyond the beauty of the grounds was the lake, darkening to ink blue this late in the day. There were white sails out there still, skimming the water, and beyond that, a smattering of houses on the far side, then the steep rise of mountains beyond.

  ‘It’s fantastic,’ she breathed, as Niccolo took the car around the gravelled curves of the drive at a snail’s pace, wary, he’d said, of playing children.

  Another swoop, this time past a small amphitheatre where classical statues vied with a froth of spring flowers, and she saw a small castle down by the lake.

  ‘Is that it?’ She frowned. Despite its grandiose style it was small.

  Niccolo laughed, the sound like warm butterscotch lapping at her senses. ‘That gothic monstrosity is the boathouse. Built by my great, great grandfather. See, there’s a private pier.’

  Sure enough, there it was, a long finger pointing out into the lake. An enormous motorboat rocked gently beside it and she could hear shouts and laughter coming from the family aboard it.

  Then the car rounded a final curve and Lia stifled a gasp. Niccolo stopped the car while she looked her fill.

  ‘You approve?’ His voice held a lazy note, as if he already knew the answer but he turned in his seat as if cu
rious to see her reaction.

  ‘It’s gorgeous,’ she whispered.

  Delight warred with horror. What had she walked into? She’d known his was a different world but this…

  The neoclassical villa was square and imposing. Its warm, sand coloured walls were punctuated with huge French doors, framed by shutters in dark green. Traditional terracotta tiles covered the roof and there were balconies aplenty, all, she guessed, with lake views. Directly ahead were glossy double entry doors topped by a huge fanlight window.

  It was grand and imposing, yet at the same time it was the prettiest house she’d ever seen.

  A nervous laugh reached Lia’s lips.

  ‘What is it?’

  She turned to find him closer than she’d expected, leaning towards her. Dark eyes held hers and her breath snared.

  Lia forced herself to look away, back to the villa. ‘It’s the sort of mansion you see in magazines about the rich and famous.’

  Niccolo’s world was light years away from hers. She’d known him so long she’d almost forgotten he came from a family that had made and kept its wealth for generation upon generation while her own family had begun as farmers, tied to the soil and at the mercy of the weather, the markets and the banks.

  Niccolo had fitted in so perfectly to the De Laurentis family, only his accent hinting he was different. Yet now Lia realised what an enormous chasm there was between them.

  Warm fingers captured her jaw and gently he turned her to face him. Lia told herself it was the shock of seeing Niccolo’s family wealth, not his touch, that made her so breathless. She wished she believed it.

  Either way she was in trouble.

  ‘It doesn’t make a difference.’ His brow crinkled in a frown, his straight eyebrows slanting down in a V. ‘I’m still the same Niccolo.’

  Lia looked into those sombre dark eyes and wondered why he cared what she thought. After all, they were only friends because of her brothers. She was the add on, the little sister they’d taunted and protected and let tag along. But sitting here, enveloped by his warmth, reading his serious expression, Lia felt…

  No, she was imagining things.

  Annoyed with herself, she stiffened. Hadn’t she learned years ago, not to let her imagination run away with her?

  ‘Of course you are,’ she said briskly, pulling back till his hand dropped away. ‘It’s just that I never think of you like that…’ Lia waved a hand towards the villa. ‘Rich, I mean.’

  ‘Thank God for that,’ he murmured and switched on the engine.

  Lia frowned. What did that mean? That he was pursued by mercenary women? It wouldn’t surprise her. But surely there were others too, women who saw him for the decent, caring man he was. A man who—

  No! She wasn’t going there again. Lia distracted herself by straightening her clothes and fussing over her hair.

  ‘You look fine.’

  ‘Sure.’ He was just like her brothers. ‘You didn’t even look.’

  ‘I looked.’ His deep voice hit a strangely gruff note that made her hands still. ‘Believe me, you look terrific. You always do.’

  And that was enough to set her pulse skittering. One casual compliment from Niccolo and she was all aflutter. Lia set her jaw. This was not going to happen again. They were friends, that’s all. She was doing him a favour. End of story.

  Nevertheless, she felt woefully nervous when he pulled up before the entrance. Surreptitiously she checked her lipstick when he got out of the car. Then he was at her door, holding it open with an old-fashioned courtesy that made her silly heart dip. Or maybe that was because of the winning smile on his handsome features.

  ‘Welcome to the Villa Marchesi, Lia.’

  She was just returning his smile when another voice spoke. ‘Yes, welcome to my home.’

  Lia twisted on her heel to see a small lady, beautifully dressed in a dark green suit that had the subtle sheen of silk. She wore shoes that exactly matched the suit — were they silk too? — and a choker necklace of luminous pearls. Her hair, pure silver, was cut perfectly in a chic, short style.

  Niccolo placed his hand at the small of Lia’s back and she was grateful for the warmth of his touch as he urged her forward. Before this exquisite little woman she felt rumpled and gangly.

  ‘Nonna, allow me to present my friend, Lia De Laurentis. And Lia, this is my grandmother, Signora Marchesi.’

  ‘I’m so pleased to meet you.’ Niccolo’s grandmother stepped forward and clasped both of Lia’s hands. ‘I’ve heard so much about you.’ At Lia’s blink of surprise she continued. ‘I’ve met two of your brothers, Matteo and Luca. And of course Niccolo talks about you too.’

  Lia turned but Niccolo’s attention was fixed on his grandmother. What on earth had he found to tell his grandmother about her?

  ‘It’s lovely to meet you, Signora Marchesi. And so kind of you to invite me here for your birthday celebration.’

  The old lady squeezed her hands. ‘The pleasure is all mine, believe me. Now,’ she turned to Niccolo, ‘you can unpack while Lia and I get better acquainted.’ She smiled, an unmistakeable glint in her eyes.

  ‘And just to prove I’m not an old fogey, despite my advancing years, I’ve had the blue suite prepared for you both.’ She leaned in and whispered to Lia. ‘It wasn’t done in my day, of course, sharing a bed before marriage, but I’m trying to move with the times.’ She beamed and looked at Niccolo who stood statue-still beside them.

  Lia’s heart crashed against her sternum. Share a room? Her skin prickled all over as if each fine hair stood on end. A rush of blood warmed her cheeks. Now she really did feel as gauche and embarrassed as the schoolgirl she’d once been, sighing her heart out over Niccolo.

  Slowly Lia turned, waiting for him to say something, anything to untangle the situation.

  A pulse throbbed hard at the base of his neck and a frown furrowed his brow. Clearly this was a surprise for him too. Yet still he didn’t speak.

  Lia swiped her tongue across suddenly dry lips. ‘I don’t—’

  ‘No, no, don’t thank me,’ Signora Marchesi said. ‘It’s the least I can do. I can’t tell you how thrilled I am that Niccolo has brought you here. Besides,’ she moved closer and Lia caught a waft of delicate designer perfume, ‘the villa is full to the rafters and there are no spare rooms so it’s worked out well.’

  The old lady hooked her hand in the crook of Lia’s elbow and turned into the house. That was when, suddenly, Lia became aware of how frail she was, despite her immaculate appearance and wide smiles. There was a tremor in that old hand and she really did need support.

  Now wasn’t the time to argue over what Niccolo’s grandmother had planned as a generous gesture.

  Lia darted one quick glance to Niccolo, but his expression gave nothing away. Was he as horrified as she? Any lingering idea that one day he’d be attracted to her died then, when she saw his grim expression. Clearly he was not happy.

  Whipping her head round, she managed a smile. ‘You have the most beautiful home, Signora Marchesi.’

  Her mind was racing so much she barely heard the other woman’s response.

  Coming here with Niccolo had been a mistake. She shivered as a potent cocktail of emotions swirled through her.

  Lia just hoped she’d get through this weekend without revealing her attraction to him. Oh, yes, she’d told herself so often that was a thing of the past, that she was well over Niccolo Marchesi. But just a couple of hours in his company and she knew she’d lied to herself.

  He was just as dangerously attractive as ever.

  And now they were stuck sharing a room!

  Chapter Three

  * * *

  ‘I apologise, Lia. I had no idea she’d planned to give us this room.’ Niccolo kept his voice even, despite the strange, tight feeling that had gripped him since his nonna made her devastating announcement.

  He’d been torn between reluctant humour at the timing of her foray into modern mores and something more tangled and complex
. There’d been embarrassment for Lia, forced into this ludicrous situation simply because she’d agreed to help him. And a skein of something far darker and more urgent. Something that even now throbbed through his belly to the base of his spine and danced along his skin.

  Excitement.

  Desire.

  Anticipation.

  He clenched his teeth, locking his jaw tight as if somehow that could miraculously counter all the dangerous emotions simmering inside.

  For the woman before him, the woman he’d spent the evening with, wasn’t the kid he’d once known. He’d been aware of her transformation over the years but had battered down his fascination as best he could by seeing her only with her family, ensuring there were plenty of distractions.

  There were no distractions now.

  Her soft brown eyes surveyed him carefully from across the bedroom. She’d been like that all evening, careful. As if one false move might disrupt her equilibrium.

  Did she sense his reaction to her? Did she fear he was going to jump her now they were alone?

  Hell! The idea of Lia scared of him… He swung round and paced to the balcony, opening the full-length windows and letting in some air.

  ‘I know you didn’t.’ Her voice was cool. ‘But I hoped you’d have a solution. You didn’t say anything at all.’

  Niccolo swung round at the accusation in her voice. ‘What was there to say without revealing the truth about us? Besides, you heard her. She’s invited all my relatives plus a host of old friends. The villa is huge, I grant you, but it’s fully packed.’

  Lia sat down abruptly, not on the wide bed, he noticed, but on a damask-covered chair. She rubbed her fingers over her forehead and instantly Niccolo felt ashamed. She looked exhausted, and not surprising. They’d spent the evening with his extended family. Lia had held her own beautifully, chatting with cousins and aunts, cooing over a couple of babies, and, of course, entrancing all the men.

  In four strides he crossed to where she sat and hunkered down before her. Instantly she froze and regret stabbed. Was she really so wary of him?