At The Italian's Bidding (A Hot Italian Nights Novella Book 5) Page 3

  Gently he took her hand, rubbing his thumb over her smooth skin, noticing again the soft, exotic lily scent he’d always associated with her. Either she still used the same perfume or the entrancing fragrance was entirely natural.

  ‘It’s a ridiculous situation, Lia, but I promise you we’ll get through it.’ This close her doubtful gaze was like sunlight, golden and alluring. ‘As for not disabusing my grandmother on the spot…’ He shrugged and again felt the weight of his recent fears for the old lady.

  ‘You saw yourself how frail she is. She puts on a good front but she’s still recuperating from major surgery.’ That scare had been the catalyst that had made him rethink his life.

  Lia’s fingers turned and gripped his. ‘Will she be all right?’ Concern laced her beautiful, dulcet voice and darkened her eyes. It was a phenomenon he’d seen before with Lia and still it fascinated him, the way strong emotion changed the colour of her eyes.

  ‘The doctors believe so. With luck and care she’ll be around for a long time yet.’ At least he hoped so. ‘But, in the circumstances, I didn’t want to make a fuss when we can sort this out ourselves. Besides, giving us the suite is a huge concession and I didn’t want to embarrass her in front of someone she’d just met by throwing the gesture in her face.’

  Lia held his gaze steadily. ‘It’s nice to see how you care for her, but I don’t see how we can sort this out. Unless you’re proposing to climb out the window and sleep in the boatshed?’

  Niccolo shook his head. Actually, that was an option, but only as a last resort. ‘I’d have to be up before the crack of dawn. The kids usually race down there as soon as it’s light. Plus I heard my cousin, Giancarlo, promise to take them out on his boat. No, my option is simpler. We share the suite but not the bed.’

  He paused, watching her intently. ‘If you trust me.’

  Still her brow knitted. ‘Where would you sleep?’

  He gestured to the chaise longue on the other side of the room. It was a decorative antique and probably not much softer than the floor but it would have to do.

  Lia’s fingers stirred in his. Did she realise he still held them? He liked touching her. He enjoyed the differences between them, her hand slender and soft, his broad and callused. More, there was a scintillating shiver of…something that burred under his skin whenever they came in contact. Even now, when she was clearly distracted, thinking about his words rather than him.

  Maybe this attraction he felt was totally one-sided!

  Niccolo didn’t know whether to be relieved at the idea or horrified. It lacerated his pride. He was used to women responding to him. He’d never had to work hard for a woman’s attention in his life.

  But you don’t want that from Lia, do you?

  She’s your best friend’s little sister.

  You’re supposed to protect her, not seduce her .

  Abruptly, Niccolo pulled back, dropping her hand and shot to his feet.

  She tilted her neck and looked up at him and he felt a powerful surge of possessiveness swamp him. He wanted to—

  ‘Okay.’

  ‘Okay?’ He frowned, still lost in urgent thoughts of how he’d like to get up close and very, very personal with Lia, the elegant, mesmerising woman he’d known since she was in braces.

  It didn’t matter how often he reminded himself of their shared history, the trust between him and her brothers. Nothing could squash the rising tide of lust he strove so hard to hide.

  ‘We’ll share the suite, but not the bed.’

  She got to her feet, her hands going to her neat chignon. Seconds later her hair cascaded around her shoulders, glossy and inviting.

  Reflexively Niccolo took another step back, needing distance to counter the urge to grab a fistful of that lustrous hair and run it through his fingers.

  ‘I’m tired.’ She didn’t meet his eyes but turned to her suitcase and removed a few handfuls of bright silk. ‘I’ll take the bathroom first if that’s okay.’

  ‘Of course.’

  *

  But it wasn’t okay. Because no matter how he tried to distract himself, Niccolo was supremely aware of the fact that just beyond the bathroom door, under the shower he could just hear, was Lia, naked and all too alluring.

  Niccolo turned and strode out onto the balcony. He’d busied himself arranging a couple of pillows on the chaise longue, pulling a T shirt and boxers from his bag. They’d keep him decent tonight. He wouldn’t shock Lia by sleeping in the buff as he usually did.

  That took a whole two minutes. So finally, reluctantly, he turned his phone back on. Sure enough, there were half a dozen messages from his manager. Reluctantly he hit speed dial. Enrico answered at once and was soon in full flood.

  His manager knew he had things on his mind, decisions to make, and he was determined to convince Niccolo to make the right decision by his team, his fans around the globe, and of course, Enrico.

  Niccolo sighed and scraped his palm around the back of his neck. He really was becoming negative!

  Since racing had ceased to be about freedom and fun and turned into a pressure cooker of everyone else’s expectations.

  Oh, he could handle the pressure. And he still loved the speed. But the truth was he no longer loved racing the way he once had. Was it boredom after so many wins? No, surely he wasn’t so conceited. Yet increasingly he was dissatisfied with the life he led, and the world he inhabited. Put on a pedestal simply because he was gifted with good reflexes and a talent for speed.

  Increasingly he found himself hankering after other challenges.

  A sound from the room behind him made him swing round.

  Instantly his tension notched to breaking point. The muscles of his neck and shoulders drew taut and he lost the thread of the phone conversation as Enrico’s voice quacked down the line.

  Madonna mia! If this was a test he was doomed to fail. Even with the length of the room and the balcony between him and Lia as she emerged from the bathroom, Niccolo felt his blood rush to his groin so fast he almost reeled.

  She wore a silk negligee the colour of mountain violets, dark and rich. She’d tied it tight at her waist, as if to cover herself as much as possible. But that only drew the fabric taut against her curves. Fascinated, Niccolo traced her delectable figure with his gaze. She was slim but rounded everywhere a man could want.

  His blood beat hard and fast, as if he were on the track, waiting for the starter’s signal.

  Lia turned and the light from the hand-blown chandelier spilled in caressing waves across her hips and high breasts, her exquisite profile and the dark gloss of her hair. His mouth turned arid. He’d known, oh, how he’d known, that Lia was sexy and beautiful. But the intimacy of seeing her like this undid something vital within him.

  She reached towards the dressing table and her long hair hid her face.

  ‘Niccolo?’ Enrico barked in his ear. ‘Did you hear me? We need a definite commitment this coming week.’

  Niccolo expelled the breath he hadn’t known he’d held and forked his hand through his hair. Now wasn’t the time for this discussion, not when he couldn’t focus on anything but the woman pulling back the bedcovers.

  In one swift, almost furtive movement, she slipped off her negligee to reveal a lace-edged nightgown. He had an impression of bare arms and a narrow back, pale as the creamy camellias blooming in the garden below, of a neatly rounded bottom outlined in dark silk, and then she was in the bed, hauling the covers high.

  ‘Niccolo?’

  He swung round to stare across the lake to the sprinkle of lights on the far side. ‘I heard you, Enrico, and all the points you raised. But I need time. I’ll call you after the weekend.’

  He waited a full five minutes, just standing, staring into the night, waiting for his erection to subside.

  He scraped a hand across his jaw. He could not, absolutely not go in there while he was still aroused. Lia trusted him. Her family trusted him to look after her.

  Another five minutes, then anoth
er five. Finally, when the roar of desire was a mere hum in his veins, he swung round and walked into the room.

  She’d turned off the overhead light but that only made the atmosphere more— No, he wasn’t going there. He kept his eyes off her as he grabbed what he needed and headed to the bathroom for a long, cold shower.

  ‘Goodnight, Niccolo.’ Her voice sounded different. Small, as if muffled by the vast four-poster bed.

  He slammed to a halt but didn’t turn. ‘Goodnight, Lia. Sleep well.’

  It was going to be a hell of a long night.

  Chapter Four

  * * *

  The bed was as comfortable as a cloud yet Lia lay on her side and stared at the view through the window. The dark mountain rose on the far side of the lake, and closer, the tops of the trees shivered in the moonlit garden. She’d forgotten to draw the curtains, too caught up in the need to get to bed and out of Niccolo’s sight as soon as possible.

  If she’d known she’d be sharing a room with him she’d have brought long pyjamas that buttoned to the neck, not the new silk nightdress she’d bought with her recent performance bonus from work.

  Not that she’d needed to worry about him seeing her half undressed. He hadn’t even looked at the bed when he came in from the balcony, or when he returned from the bathroom.

  If she’d needed any proof that he didn’t find her attractive, that was it.

  Why should he? He was used to famous models and beautiful socialites draping themselves over him. Lia, like everyone else in Italy, and the world for that matter, had seen the photos. Everywhere Niccolo went there was a gorgeous woman glued to his side. Usually blonde, usually looking as if she couldn’t wait to get him naked.

  Lia’s breath caught on a rip of pain.

  It shouldn’t hurt that he didn’t see her like that. She didn’t want him to think of her as just another convenient woman to warm his bed.

  And yet…

  It was no good. No matter how she tried she couldn’t evade the fact she wanted him in her bed. And more, in her life, not just as a family friend. She wanted him as a woman wants a man. It was a deep-seated ache, a gnawing hunger, a heady excitement, and at the same time a tenderness, a concern that nothing could shift.

  Why else had she scurried to do his bidding when he’d put forward his outrageous proposal?

  What had begun as a schoolgirl crush had bloomed into something far more elemental. Niccolo was the reason she’d never been with a man. No man she’d dated ever made her feel like this, so alive it was as if sparks showered her every time their eyes locked.

  On the far side of the room the chaise longue squeaked as Niccolo rolled over again. For the longest time he’d lain unmoving, but as the moonlight had shifted across the floor, he’d turned more often. Not surprising, since the seat was shorter than him and for all its elegance, probably not particularly comfortable.

  Lia stared wide-eyed into the night and faced the truth. She…cared for Niccolo. Cared too much. But this was no romantic film where the gorgeous hero suddenly realised the girl he’d known forever had grown up. He’d never love her. Never view her as anything more than a friend. He’d be horrified to know she’d saved herself for him. Not deliberately, but because no other man had measured up to him.

  Her heart sank and she pressed her lips so hard together that pain radiated along her jaw.

  Even if he did notice her, or want her the way she craved him, they came from completely different worlds. Visiting his grandmother’s villa had shown her exactly how far apart those worlds were.

  The plain fact was he liked her, but would never see her the way she wanted him to. Never care the way she wanted. As for viewing her with lust…!

  Another series of noises as Niccolo tried to get comfortable in his makeshift bed.

  On a surge of energy, fuelled by anger at her own stupid imaginings, Lia pulled back the covers and stood. Even from here, in the half dark, she could see how uncomfortable Niccolo was. His head was cricked up at an angle and his feet dangled off the end.

  Lia looked back at the four-poster. It was enormous. Far too big for one person.

  ‘Niccolo.’

  Instantly his head jerked up and his eyes met hers. Strange how, even in the gloom she imagined she felt the impact of his dark-eyed stare.

  A tiny tremor passed through her and Lia wrapped her arms around herself, impatient at her body’s instant response.

  ‘Don’t torture yourself any longer. The bed’s big enough for two.’

  ‘Sorry?’ He sat up. Pale light washed his broad shoulders and solid chest, emphasising the fierce, honed strength of him. Lia’s pulse skittered abruptly to a faster beat.

  His hair was rumpled, his powerful legs long and bare. Even those feet, now planted apart on the floor, looked… strong.

  Something, a primitive voice of warning, clamoured that she was making a mistake. Stripped to just a T shirt and boxers, Niccolo looked more elemental, more masculine than ever.

  More dangerous.

  Nonsense. He’d only be dangerous if he was attracted, which clearly he wasn’t. He was a friend, a platonic friend. Damn him!

  Furious, with herself and him, Lia spun round and stalked back to the bed.

  ‘Don’t worry, Niccolo. I don’t expect you to make love to me if we share a bed. You might as well get some sleep so you can enjoy the celebrations tomorrow.’

  Pride dictated that at least one of them emerged tomorrow looking as if they’d slept. It was bad enough that Niccolo’s family thought they were having sex half the night.

  For some reason the idea only stoked her anger. She flipped her hair back over her shoulder, wondering for the thousandth time why she hadn’t cut it. She was tired of it, tired of everything. Her skin felt taut, her body stiff and uncoordinated. Even the lace of her lovely new nightgown scratched. Why had she packed this for a weekend away with Niccolo? Because she’d hoped he might come to her room and—

  ‘I don’t want to disturb you.’

  Even his voice, deep and so deliciously warm it settled on her like a blanket, made her grit her teeth. She was too close to doing something she’d regret, like telling him how she felt. Like imploring him to take her in his arms.

  ‘What do you think you’ve been doing for the past couple of hours?’ Her voice was waspish and she didn’t care. ‘Take the other side of the bed and sleep. Maybe then I can too.’

  *

  Niccolo frowned. It was rare to hear Lia grumpy. She had a sunny disposition, not a brooding one. But there was a definite snap to her voice. Had he really kept her awake?

  He was on his feet, heading for the bed, even as she got in the far side. It was only as she settled against the pillows that he realised what he was doing. How readily he was following.

  Niccolo paused and surveyed the bed. In normal circumstances he’d say it was plenty big enough for two. But this wasn’t normal. This was Lia. And just thinking about lying on that broad mattress with her made his body stiffen. Could he do it? Sleep with her and not turn into a heat-seeking missile, homing in on her unsuspecting body?

  ‘Niccolo.’ Abruptly she sat up, dark hair spilling around her. ‘I’m sorry. I’m grumpy because I’m tired and stressed.’

  Yes, he heard it in her voice. His conscience told him he was the cause of her stress. He’d been the one to cajole her into this charade.

  ‘Please come to bed. We’ll both sleep better and that will make tomorrow easier.’

  And tomorrow would be difficult for her. Why hadn’t he thought before about exactly how tough it would be? Tonight she’d been swamped by a horde of relatives and friends. Tomorrow the villa would be filled to the brim for his nonna’s birthday dinner. Lia would be wary about putting a foot wrong and betraying the fact they weren’t as close as everyone believed.

  He lifted the bedding and slipped between the cool sheets, telling himself he did this for Lia. She’d relax now and sleep and he…well, he had a decision to make about his future. He’d
concentrate on that.

  Yet, as the minutes ticked by into hours it wasn’t his racing future that captured his thoughts, it was the woman lying on the other side of the mattress, her breathing finally easing into a deep, slow rhythm, her hair splaying across the pillow in lustrous invitation.

  *

  Lia woke to the sound of children laughing and the slap of feet on a paved path somewhere below the balcony. Blearily she opened her eyes and saw the gold and peach flush of early morning wash the room.

  She smiled sleepily and snuggled down into the bed. It had taken ages but finally, when she’d just about given up, she must have drifted into a deep, dreamless sleep. Now she didn’t want to move. She felt relaxed, cosier than she’d ever felt even in her own bed.

  Stifling a yawn, she shifted towards the beckoning warmth behind her. And froze.

  She blinked. Once, twice. A sudden roaring in her ears coincided with her heart jumping high against her throat. After a single deep, indrawn breath her lungs froze.

  But her senses didn’t.

  The rich, deeply appealing scent of warm male and cool forest glades filled her nostrils. Her lips grazed her warm pillow and the fragrance intensified, transforming into taste. She blinked again, focusing not on the distant window but the pillow in front of her eyes. It wasn’t snowy white linen but the dark gold of Niccolo’s arm. Her head rested on the curve of his shoulder, her lips touching his biceps.

  Lia had an almost overpowering urge to slick her tongue along that beckoning curve of muscle.

  Another breath, this time a shuddery intake of shock as she realised she lay, not on her own side of the bed, but on his! Worse, she was cocooned against him. That tantalising heat at her back was his broad chest. And lower she’d pressed her backside right up against what felt like an erection of massive proportions.

  She’d heard of morning arousal but hadn’t dreamt it would be quite so…

  Thought dried and crumbled as he moved, murmuring something she couldn’t catch. His breath fanned her hair and tiny pin pricks of sensation rippled across her flesh.