Italian Attraction: The Italian Tycoon's Bride / An Italian Engagement / One Summer in Italy...

He wouldn’t think she was calm if he knew how her heart was beating like a tom-tom against her ribs. ‘It’s my job.’ She tried to ignore the tingles radiating down from her shoulders. ‘It’s what I’ve been trained for.’

‘Still …’ He turned her round, tilting her chin. ‘You were perfect. You are perfect.’

If she had just ducked away at that point, made some excuse, anything, she might still have been all right. As it was, she waited for his kiss and when it came she kissed him back. There were a hundred reasons not to and she didn’t care about any of them.

They stood locked together, swaying slightly, and as she felt the heady rush of sensation sending needles of pleasure into every nerve and sinew, she wondered what he had that made him so darn good at this. But it didn’t matter what it was; it was enough that he was kissing her.

Blaine was breathing hard as his mouth continued to move on hers, tasting her, fuelling and feeding on the reaction he was causing. His hands moved up and down her body and she trembled at his touch, shifting in his arms so that she could lift her hands to his shoulders and press more closely against the long hard length of him.

She could feel his heart pounding against his chest like a sledgehammer and it was incredibly exhilarating to know she could arouse such desire in him. His thighs were hard against hers as he moved her against the stable wall, his kiss deepening into what was almost a consummation in itself as his tongue took vanquished territory.

It was Liliana’s voice that broke into the madness which had taken hold, but even as it registered and she felt him stiffen it was still another sweet moment or two before he raised his head and drew away. She felt his going in every nerve in her body. ‘Liliana,’ he muttered hoarsely. ‘She’s fixing sandwiches and a hot drink.’

‘Right.’ She knew her voice was as bemused as his. ‘We’d better go then.’

‘Maisie …’ Her name was a caress on his tongue. ‘You are driving me mad. I sit at my desk and I see you in front of me, I talk to my staff and your face is there. What have you done to me?’

‘I don’t know.’ She shivered, under such a strong spell of sensual desire all self-protection had broken down. ‘But, whatever it is, I feel the same.’

The last was almost in the form of a plaintive protest and whether it was that which gave him the strength to straighten and put a few inches between them she didn’t know. He stared at her, his eyes glittering and almost opaque in the strong lights in the stable as he said, ‘This is wrong. I am taking advantage of you when you are at your most vulnerable. This man, your fiancé, has hurt you and taken away your self-esteem. You need to prove to yourself that you are still desirable.’

No, no that wasn’t it. Jeff was such a wash-out, so unimportant right at this moment that he didn’t even begin to come into the equation. She wondered how she could say that without sounding as if she was begging him to make love to her.

‘Blaine—’

‘I am not the man you think I am, mia piccola. You are looking for a white knight and I am not he. I cannot give you what you want.’

‘You can.’ Oh, he could, he could. And who needed a white knight anyway?

‘Maisie—’ he took a step backwards away from her as Liliana’s voice called again and, much as Maisie liked the little housekeeper, she could have throttled her right at this moment ‘—believe me. This will only end badly.’

She didn’t care. She really, really didn’t care. ‘It won’t.’

‘There are things you don’t know.’

‘So tell me.’ She faced him, hands on hips, and Iola snorted from her box as though to say she was with her, body and soul. Women together and all that. ‘Tell me what I don’t know.’

Liliana’s voice was closer this time and then the housekeeper was at the stable doors. ‘How is the horse?’ Liliana cast a wary eye at Iola. ‘There are no problems?’

‘No, everything’s fine.’ Maisie spoke into the void when it appeared Blaine wasn’t going to. ‘I was just settling her down, that’s all.’

Liliana smiled. ‘This will be a nice homecoming gift, sì? Jennifer and Guiseppe will be pleased. New life is a good omen.’

Maisie smiled, but she looked straight at Blaine as she said, ‘I agree, Liliana. New life is a very good omen. A reminder that the past is gone and the future is bright.’

‘The animal is all right to be left, sì?’ Again Liliana cast a wary glance at Iola. Her affinity with the horses was so nonexistent it was clear she was worried that Iola could suddenly barge out of the loose box and go berserk. When Maisie nodded she added, ‘Come and have a hot drink now. You must be exhausted.’

‘Exhilarated, actually,’ Maisie said as she followed Liliana out into the warm night. She was aware of Blaine at the side of her with every fibre of her being although she didn’t glance at him as they walked back to the house, but her lips were aching and full as a result of his kisses and her body was burning.

Had he said what he’d said purely because he was worried this was all happening too fast for her after Jeff? Somehow she didn’t think so. There was more, much more. That bit about not being a white knight, for example. Something had happened to him with this Francesca and, frankly, after what had transpired tonight between them, she felt she deserved an explanation. Her chin lifted. However difficult it might be for him. Everyone had broken love affairs, didn’t they? Everyone got let down at some time in their lives. If ever anyone had the T-shirt for that, she had. Two, in fact.

They drank the coffee and ate the sandwiches sitting in the kitchen and for once Liliana didn’t protest but chatted away nineteen to the dozen, clearly on a high after her visit to see Guiseppe and Jenny. Maisie was glad of the diversion. Now the initial furore following Blaine’s love-making had died down, she was facing the grim reality that she was no further forward than she had been at the beginning of the evening. He was making polite conversation and injecting the odd comment to keep Liliana going but he obviously wanted to be anywhere but here with her. How could he blow so hot and cold? It wasn’t fair.

As soon as he had eaten his sandwiches he rose to his feet, his voice pleasant but cool as he said, ‘Mother will be thrilled about the foal, Maisie. Thank you again for all you did. I’ve got a series of meetings over the next few days, so I guess I might not be calling in.’

This last was directed to Liliana but Maisie knew it was meant for her. For a moment her newly found determination faltered and all her self-doubts poured in. Then she mentally slapped herself. She was not going to let this … thing between them fizzle and go out like a damp squib without at least demanding some sort of justification for his actions. OK, so her legs didn’t go up to her eyeballs and she didn’t have a figure to die for, but he couldn’t have made love to her like that unless he fancied her. And he had instigated it, not her. And, she thought grimly, his body had stated he wanted her, regardless of what he had said afterwards.

With this in mind she took a deep breath and stared straight at him, her voice casual and just faintly surprised as she said, ‘But you’ll see Liliana tomorrow when you call to pick me up, won’t you? You haven’t forgotten you’re taking me out to dinner?’

Ball in his court. He could either show her up in front of Liliana and make her look like a cheap liar coming on to him by calling her bluff, or behave like the gentleman she suspected him to be and fall in with what she freely admitted was an outrageous manoeuvre on her part. But only because he had left her with no other option, she told herself desperately when the beautiful eyes narrowed on her pink face. She had to be able to be alone with him and talk properly. That was all she wanted—an explanation. Well, not all perhaps, but it would do for starters.

‘Of course.’ He had only hesitated for the barest of moments. ‘How silly of me.’

She smiled but it was the sort of smile that stuck at the edges. ‘I’ll see you about seven o’clock as arranged, then?’

He nodded and Maisie wondered if Liliana had noticed the faintly bemused expression on his face. ‘Seven o’clock,’ he repeated softly.

Liliana clearly hadn’t observed a thing; in fact, she was beaming at them. ‘You are going out to dinner?’ she said with evident satisfaction. ‘How nice.’

‘Isn’t it?’ Blaine murmured as he turned away and walked out of the kitchen, calling over his shoulder. ‘Mother’s probably asleep by now but I’ll text her about the foal and no doubt she’ll ring before she goes into the hospital tomorrow morning.’

How could she have done that? The second he had left Maisie felt hot all over. What on earth was he thinking? Well, she knew what he was thinking! Pushy female would be the least of it. No man liked to be pursued; they liked to be the pursuer, didn’t they? That was what all the magazines said anyway. And if you did pursue them you had to do it in such a way that they either didn’t realise or could at least pretend they didn’t. Whereas she had been blatantly—she wanted to say upfront but honesty insisted on—brazen. If Liliana hadn’t been present she would have groaned out loud.

The housekeeper had just walked back into the kitchen after seeing Blaine out and now she said eagerly, ‘So Blaine has invited you to dinner? You did not tell me of this.’

Maisie thought on her feet. ‘It was when we were down with the foal,’ she said quickly. ‘A sort of reward, I think. You know, for calling Mr Rossellini and everything.’

Liliana’s face dropped just for a second and then she said, ‘No, I do not think it was this. He likes you, I can tell.’ Her countenance brightened. ‘I am sure of it.’

Maisie wondered what she had started. Carefully she said, ‘As a friend, yes.’

‘A friend?’ Liliana surveyed her with bright worldly eyes. ‘Huh! I do not believe in this modern idea of a man and a woman being friends. Not when they are both young and unattached. It is not possible. There is always the, how do you say, the chemistry between them. Sì?’

Oh, help. Maisie shrugged and tried a new tack. ‘Blaine’s a workaholic; isn’t that what you said? That’s not conducive to chemistry, surely?’

‘Oh, that.’ Liliana dismissed her earlier comments with a very Latin lift of her shoulders. ‘That is nothing. Not if the right woman comes along.’

‘We’re only going to dinner, Liliana.’

‘Sì, sì, I know. But he asked you, did he not? And you accepted.’

Oh, what a tangled web we weave, when first we practise to deceive. Maisie gave up. ‘I’m off to bed,’ she said quietly. ‘It’s been a long day.’ And it would probably be a long night the way she was feeling, because she had never regretted anything so much in her life and probably wouldn’t be able to sleep a wink.

CHAPTER SEVEN

JEENY rang the house at eight o’clock the next morning and enthused for some minutes about Iola’s foal. ‘I want you to name him,’ she told Maisie. ‘Blaine said things might have been very different if it wasn’t for you and I can never thank you enough. I was sure she wouldn’t do anything for a while and that I’d be back. If anything had happened to her …’

‘But it didn’t,’ Maisie said quickly. ‘Iola’s fine and her baby is just beautiful, Jenny. You’ll fall in love when you see him. But I can’t name him; that’s for you to do.’

‘No, no, I insist. Have a think about a name; anything you like. I want you to do it.’

They talked for some more moments before they said goodbye, and once Maisie had put down the telephone she prepared the cat and dog food and took the bowls out to the veranda where her charges were all lined up waiting. She stood gazing out over the garden and paddock as the animals ate, the bright golden sunlight, high blue sky and fresh warm air mocking her sombre mood. She had been down to see the horses first thing before breakfast and the stables had screamed Blaine. Everything screamed Blaine. At some point during the long wakeful night she had conceded she had made a terrible mistake in engineering their date tonight and would have given the world to go back in time and change things. But she couldn’t. And it would make things ten times worse to ring up and cancel it now.

She sighed, gathering up the bowls and taking them through to the kitchen where she washed each one under the eagle eye of Liliana, who insisted on separate cloths for the animals’ dishes, and that the sink be rinsed with disinfectant once Maisie had finished.

Once that chore was finished she went about grooming the cats and dogs, the dogs submitting to her ministrations with their normal good grace and the cats protesting every inch of the way. Later that morning she introduced Iorwerth to his son and let the three of them into the paddock, standing for some time watching the foal, who was doing splendidly on his still wobbly legs, before taking the dogs for a long walk.

She mucked out the stables in the afternoon and then proceeded to give them an energetic floor to ceiling spring-clean. They didn’t really warrant it but she needed to keep working. It was definitely that sort of day. Once they were gleaming and pristine she filled the boxes with sweet-smelling straw, checked the horses had plenty of clean water in the paddock and went back to the house for a coffee with Liliana before taking the dogs out again.

At six o’clock she decided on a long soak in the bath rather than a quick shower, but after only five minutes in the bubble scented water she was out again, unable to lie still and do nothing with her nerves stretched to breaking-point.

She had a nice surprise when she pulled on the dress she had chosen for the evening. It had been a little tight in England; now it was loose in all the right places and fitted her perfectly. And it was a size twelve. All the exercise involved with taking care of the animals was paying off.

She examined her face in the mirror. Her complexion had turned a golden brown and was as clear and smooth as silk. The sun had brought out loads of natural highlights in her hair too, which was as good as an eighty-pound salon visit, and she had definitely lost a little weight from her face because her chin was now one instead of two and she could see evidence of cheekbones for the first time for a while.

Hugely delighted at such a massive bonus, which she’d been totally unaware of until this moment, Maisie decided to go for gold. She was going to spend the next fifty minutes making up her face and doing her hair until she was something to die for, she told herself euphorically. She might not be a black-haired, super-slim, sophisticated Italian beauty but she wouldn’t crack any mirrors tonight either after she was done.

By the time she had put hair up and then down twice, she decided she was trying just a bit too hard. Leaving it falling in silky waves to her shoulders, she concentrated on making up her eyes until they looked at least twice as big, her foundation giving her skin a translucent gleam and her lip gloss just the right colour to set off the salmon-pink dress. In England the dress had seemed just a mite daring and she had wondered if she would ever wear it, now it fitted so perfectly she was in no doubt at all. The draped and tied bodice and seductive Empire-line to the skirt was definitely on the flirty side but that was all right, she told herself firmly. She was a girl, wasn’t she? She was supposed to have curves that she could show off once in a while.

At five to seven she was ready. Balancing on sandals with wafer-thin heels, she picked up a short-sleeved cotton cardigans and made her way to the kitchen. When Liliana caught sight of her she stopped what she was doing and said something in Italian that—although she didn’t have a clue what it meant—made Maisie blush.

‘You like it?’ she asked to mask her embarrassment, twirling round and then nearly falling over, which rather spoilt the effect.

‘Sì, I like it.’ Liliana smiled. ‘And you say there is no chemistry, eh?’

Maisie stared at her, suddenly acutely worried. She didn’t want Blaine to think she was throwing herself at him. Should she nip upstairs and change, and perhaps take a little makeup off too?

She didn’t have time to even get to the foot of the stairs. She had reached the kitchen door when Blaine’s key sounded in the lock and the next moment he had opened the front door. She stood transfixed in the doorway. He had obviously called in on his way home from work because there was a dark stubble on his square chin and he looked tired, rumpled and good enough to eat. Like all her Christmases rolled into one, in fact. She wished.

He walked across to her, a single red rose in his hand. ‘You look stunning,’ he said softly, ‘and I had every intention of doing this properly before a crisis with the air-conditioning at our flagship hotel caused a few problems. It was a case of ringing to say I was going to be horribly late or collecting you en route before I go home to change. I decided on the latter. Right decision?’

Oh, yes. Maisie took the rose and hoped he hadn’t noticed her hand was trembling. This way she got to see where he lived and had longer with him. ‘You can show me a little more of the scenery,’ she said evenly, ‘so definitely right decision.’

‘Good.’ He smiled and she noticed the stubble showed he had a tiny cleft in his chin. For such a small thing it had a huge effect on her equilibrium.

After saying their goodbyes to Liliana, Blaine walked her out to the Ferrari with a hand at her elbow, and Maisie found she was working on automatic in an effort to ignore the effect he had on her. She had spoken to Jackie earlier in the day—her friend had called her several times while she had been at the villa to see how things were going—and had mentioned they were having dinner together that evening, eliciting a worried response from Blaine’s niece.

‘Be careful, Maisie.’ Jackie had sounded both embarrassed and sincere. ‘Mum has told me there’s some sort of thing in his past, I don’t know what, but it’s to do with a woman and it’s had a huge effect on him. I’m not saying he’s celibate but he never gets emotionally involved, you know? And you don’t want anyone with baggage.’

She had fobbed Jackie off with some light comment about this meal being a reward for handling the Iola thing well—she was getting pretty good at lying, which was a bit worrying—but now, as she slid into the car, she knew the baggage thing was the least of her problems. For some reason all the rules about emotional engagement, rules which were essential for self-protection, had become fuzzy in the last twenty-four hours. This might be a rebound thing; she really didn’t know any more but, whatever it was, it was powerful enough to cause her to cast aside every moral and principle she had lived by for the last twenty-eight years. She wanted Blaine Morosini.

Maisie tried to respond to Blaine’s comment about it being a beautiful evening with a coherent reply even as her mind was in another galaxy.

She had never dreamt in a thousand years she could feel this way; in fact she had always had a slightly patronising pity for women who said they just couldn’t resist a guy, but she was being forced to eat her words. Blaine had stirred feelings and emotions in her she’d never known existed and, although it was more scary than the worst cellulite, it was real.

She was still clutching the beautiful red rose and now she stroked its velvet petals as she said abstractedly, ‘There are no thorns on this rose.’

‘That’s because it’s not real.’ At her look of surprise he added, ‘Oh, I do not mean it is artificial; I was not talking in that sense. But this rose has been cultivated in protected surroundings and had all its sharp edges removed. It has never felt the rain on its petals or the insects landing on its leaves; it has not properly lived.’

‘Poor rose.’ She lifted it to her nose. ‘And it only has the faintest perfume. Perhaps it’s because it’s had it too easy that it has no perfume? Perhaps it needed the rain and the wind and everything to bring out its true beauty, its fragrance?’

‘Perhaps.’ He glanced at her and he was smiling that slightly lopsided smile again, which was sheer dynamite because the rest of him was so utterly perfect. ‘Or maybe we’re not meant to be philosophers and are talking a load of rubbish?’

Maisie smiled back. She was unutterably relieved that he didn’t appear to be offended or cross with her for her manipulation of tonight. Then again he might be fuming but hiding it under those Italian good manners and charm? She took a deep breath. She had to say something, now, at the beginning of the evening or she wouldn’t be able to stand it. She had to make it clear she had asked him out for a good reason. ‘Blaine, I know I shouldn’t have put you in the position I did last night, about pretending you’d asked me out, I mean, but I had to talk to you and it looked as though you weren’t planning to be around for a while.’

‘No, I wasn’t.’

‘Oh.’ For a second she was taken aback but then she rallied. It was going to be cards on the table and no dressing things up, was it? Fine. That suited her because if she didn’t have her say over all this she would burst. ‘The thing is, I’m someone who likes everything out in the open,’ she said firmly. ‘I know men have this tendency to keep stuff bottled up and think any emotional talk is just for women, but I don’t like secrets or playing games. I’m not made like that.’

He shifted his legs and in the close confines of the car it registered on Maisie like a punch in the solar plexus.

She swallowed hard and went on, ‘You said something about worrying that I was vulnerable last night when you …’ She faltered.

‘When I kissed you,’ he put in softly.

‘Yes. You said Jeff had taken away my self-esteem and that I was responding to you to prove something to myself, that I was still desirable. That’s absolute rubbish.’

She saw him blink. He obviously wasn’t used to quite such plain speaking from his women, she thought, but she had started now and she might as well say it all. She was going to be stark staring crazy if she didn’t get this off her chest.

‘I’m over Jeff,’ she declared evenly. ‘I don’t know how it’s happened so fast—’ that was a lie but she was only going to go so far with this truth thing, and he probably knew it was because she had met him anyway ‘—but it has and I’m glad. We wouldn’t have lasted. I think I was more a mother than a girlfriend to him.’

One black eyebrow rose quizzically. ‘Whatever else, Maisie, rest assured I do not see you as a mother substitute.’

She knew that. From the way he had kissed her last night, she had no illusions on that score. ‘So from my side there’s no reason why you shouldn’t—’ hell, how did she say this? ‘—kiss me,’ she finished weakly. ‘Not from my side.’

‘Meaning you suspect I have reasons why I do not wish to be in a relationship?’

Hearing it like that was a bit daunting, to say the least, especially when he had spoken in a tone of voice which suggested she was right. Maisie felt a fresh riot in her stomach, which came with the realisation that she might have done better to let sleeping dogs lie. She got the distinct impression she was forcing him to say things she didn’t want to hear. ‘I suppose so,’ she managed after a long pause.

This time the pause went on even longer. ‘Maisie,’ said Blaine, just as she was ready to scream or burst into tears or both, ‘I can’t do togetherness. No, wrong, I do not want to do togetherness, but it’s nothing to do with you. I want you. I might as well admit I’ve wanted you from the minute I set eyes on you when you rushed into that café all flushed and warm and ruffled—’

‘Why?’ She had to interrupt him because, being a man, he was making this ten times worse. ‘Why can’t you—why don’t you want to be with someone? With me. Why don’t you want to be with me?’

‘It’s a long story.’

‘We’ve got time.’

‘I don’t talk about it.’

‘Try,’ she said through gritted teeth. Because if you don’t, the way I’m feeling right now, I’ll forget I’m a lady and do something I’ll regret.