the Falcone road car—the third to be rolled out since Rafaele had taken control of the bankrupt company.
It was completely impractical as far as children went, but Rafaele had surprised Sam. She’d seen that he’d got a child’s car seat from somewhere and had it fitted into the backseat. Every time Sam looked around Milo just grinned at her like a loon. She shook her head ruefully as Rafaele negotiated out of the driveway and onto the main road with confident ease.
Sam tried to ignore his big hands on the wheel and gearstick. But there was something undeniably sexy about a man who handled a car well—and especially one like this, which was more like an art form than a car. Rafaele was a confident driver, and not the kind of person who felt the need for speed just to impress.
Happy sounds were coming from the back of the car—Milo imitating the engine. Sam felt a flutter near her heart and blocked it out. Dangerous. She still felt tense after that impassioned exchange the previous evening. Predictably, she hadn’t been able to sleep well and she felt fuzzy now. She’d avoided looking directly at Rafaele this morning over breakfast, preferring to let Milo take centre stage, demanding the attention of this new, charismatic person in their midst.
Rafaele had seemed equally keen to be distracted, and Sam could only wonder if he’d taken anything of what she’d said to heart. Was he prepared to forgive her at all?
Sam noticed that Milo had gone silent behind them and looked back to see that he’d fallen asleep. Rafaele glanced her way and Sam quickly looked forward again, saying a little too breathlessly for her liking, ‘He was so excited about today... He doesn’t really nap any more but sometimes it catches up with him.’
She was babbling, and the thought of increased proximity to Rafaele when she started working with him tomorrow made her feel panicky. She steeled herself and turned to his proud profile. The profile of a great line of aristocratic Italian ancestors.
‘Look, Rafaele...about me working at the factory...’ She saw his jaw clench and rushed on. ‘You said yourself last night that you’re only doing it to keep me where you can see me. I can work perfectly well from the university. After last night I can’t see how our working together will improve things.’
His hands clenched on the wheel now, and Sam looked at them, so strong and large. She recalled how hot they’d felt exploring her body.
Distracted, she almost missed it when Rafaele said in a low voice, with clear reluctance, ‘I shouldn’t have said that. It wasn’t entirely true.’
Sam gulped and looked back at him. ‘It wasn’t?’ Somewhere a tiny flame lit inside her, and against every atom of self-preservation she couldn’t douse it.
‘After all,’ he reminded her, ‘I contacted you about working for me before I knew about Milo and you refused to listen.’
The panic she’d felt then was still vivid. ‘Yes,’ she said faintly. ‘I...it was a shock to hear from you.’
Rafaele slanted her a look and said dryly, ‘You don’t say.’ He looked at the road again. ‘But the fact remains that I knew about your research. You were mentioned in an article in Automotive Monthly and I realised that you were leading the field in research into kinetic energy recovery systems.’
The little flame inside Sam sputtered. Of course he hadn’t been motivated by anything other than professional interest. ‘I see,’ she responded. ‘And that’s why you wanted to contact me?’
Rafaele shrugged minutely, his broad shoulders moving sinuously under his leather jacket, battered and worn to an almost sensual texture. Dammit... Sam cursed herself. Why did everything have to return to all things physical even when he was wounding her with his words? She looked away resolutely.
He continued, ‘I knew we were setting up in England, I figured you were still based here... It seemed like a logical choice to ask you to work for us again...’
Out of the corner of Sam’s eye she saw Rafaele’s hands tighten on the wheel again. His jaw clenched and then released.
‘About last night—you were right. I agree that the past is past and we need to move on. I don’t want Milo to pick up on the tension between us any more than you do.’
Something dangerous swooped inside Sam at hearing him acknowledge this. She recognised the mammoth effort he must be making to concede this.
‘Thank you,’ she said huskily. ‘And I’ll have to trust that you won’t do anything to hurt Milo.’
The car was stopped at a red light now and Rafaele looked at her. ‘Yes, you will. Hurting my son is the last thing in the world I want to do. It won’t happen.’
The fierce light in his eyes awed Sam into silence. Eventually, she nodded, her throat feeling tight. ‘Okay.’
A car horn tooted from behind them, and with unhurried nonchalance Rafaele released her from his gaze and moved on.
After a while Rafaele said in a low voice, ‘And you will be coming to work with me, Sam...because I want you to.’
After a long moment Sam replied again. ‘Okay.’ In her wayward imagination she fancied that something had finally shifted between them, alleviating the ever-present tension.
They were silent for much of the rest of the journey, but something inside Sam had lessened slightly. And yet conversely she felt more vulnerable than ever.
She noticed that they were pulling into what looked like a stately home and raised a questioning brow at Rafaele, who answered, ‘I asked my assistant to look up some things. It’s an open house at weekends and they have a working farm. I thought Milo might like to see it.’
Milo had woken up a short while before, and from the backseat came an excited, ‘Look, Mummy! Horsies!’
Sam saw Rafaele look to his son in the rearview mirror and the way his mouth curved into a smile. Her chest tightened and she explained, ‘It’s his other favourite thing in the world apart from cars. You’re killing two birds with one stone.’
Rafaele looked at her for a long moment, his eyes lingering on her mouth until it tingled. Sam grew hot and flustered. Why was he teasing her with looks like this when he couldn’t be less interested? Was it just something he turned on automatically when any woman with a pulse was nearby? It made her think of that angry kiss—how instantly she’d gone up in flames when he’d only been proving a point.
‘Shouldn’t you look where you’re driving?’ She sounded like a prim schoolmistress.
Rafaele eventually looked away, but not before purring with seductive arrogance, ‘Cara, I could drive blindfolded and not crash.’
This was what she remembered. Rafaele’s easy and lethal brand of charm. Disgusted with herself, Sam faced forward and crossed her arms.
When he had parked and they’d got out, Milo clearly didn’t know what to do first: stand and looking lovingly at the car, or go and see the animals. For a second he looked genuinely upset, overwhelmed with all these exciting choices. It made guilt lance Sam—fresh guilt—because the local park or swimming pool was about as exciting as it had got so far for Milo.
To Sam’s surprise, before she could intervene, Rafaele bent down to Milo’s level and said, ‘Piccolino, the car will still be here when we
