the Italian blood in him. He is proud too. Very proud.’
‘Is that coffee for him?’ Rachel asked, pointing to the tray the housekeeper was setting up.
‘Yes,’ Lucia said, handing it over the counter. ‘He is in the study.’
The door of the study was closed so Rachel had to balance the tray on one bent knee in order to free her hand to knock on it.
‘Entrare.’
She entered the room and Alessandro looked up from his computer screen. ‘Where’s Lucia?’ he asked.
‘I thought I’d give her a hand,’ Rachel said. ‘Where would you like this?’
He waved a dismissive hand to a side table near the window overlooking the gardens. ‘Leave it over there,’ he said, returning his gaze to his computer screen.
Rachel placed the tray where he said and came to stand by his left shoulder. ‘What are you working on?’ she asked.
He looked at her irritably. ‘Don’t you have things of your own to do?’ he asked.
Rachel stood her ground. ‘Why are you being so prickly this morning? Did you get out on the wrong side of the bed or something?’
His dark blue eyes clashed with hers, a tussle of wills, a heated exchange, and the unmistakable sexual tension building with each pulsing second. Almost without realising she was doing it Rachel reached out with her hand, a butterfly touch to the lean shape of his jaw. Her soft skin snagged on the masculine stubble even though he had shaved that morning. She trailed a finger down to his mouth, outlining his lips, top and bottom, all the while feeling her stomach dip and dive as his eyes darkened immeasurably.
‘What do you think you are doing?’ Alessandro asked in a voice that sounded deep and scratchy.
‘I’m not sure …’ Her hand fell away as her creamy cheeks bloomed with a soft tide of pink.
Alessandro captured her hand and brought it back to his mouth, his lips moving against the tips of her fingers, watching as her grey-green eyes flared with desire. It pleased him that she wanted him. It was part of the plan: to make her want him and then walk away from her the way she had done to him. Making love with her was something he had dreamed of for years. He dreamed of the silk of her skin moving against his, the movement of her lips, the way she met his tongue with hers, dancing around it until she finally capitulated. Their kiss last night had almost undone him. He wanted to kiss her again. He wanted to touch her and caress her until she remembered only his touch, no one else’s. He wanted her like a force that came from somewhere so deep inside him he had no idea how to turn it off. It consumed him. He had lain awake last night burning with need, his body hot and hungry for her and only her. But he was not sure if he could trust his body just yet. What if he couldn’t perform as she hinted at last night? That would be the ultimate humiliation and one he wasn’t sure she wouldn’t use against him once the six months’ confidentiality clause was up.
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