were bored, dushka?’
Maisy was startled by the smile, the sudden intimacy of his tone. She shook it off with the suspicion he was probably like this with all women under thirty, unthinkingly working them up with throwaway charisma.
‘Not bored, exactly,’ she said uncertainly, wondering how honest she should be.
Your house is full of people who don’t talk to me; Maria and the night nurse have taken over many of the usual calls on my time; I’m only twenty-three and I feel like I’ve been walled up alive some days.
‘I just wanted to look around, get my bearings.’
‘Yes, I saw you getting your bearings on the street. Half the male population of Ravello is going to be on the villa’s doorstep.’
He spoke casually, but there was an edge in his voice.
‘It’s not my fault if Italian men are appreciative of women,’ she replied stiffly. ‘I didn’t invite it.’
‘That dress invites it.’ His tone remained casual, but Maisy heard the censure and stiffened.
‘Are you suggesting I’m trying to pick up?’ she challenged.
Alexei’s expression was taut, hinting at inner tensions she couldn’t guess at. ‘I’m Kostya’s guardian,’ he enunciated plainly. ‘I expect you to behave like a lady and not flaunt yourself.’
Maisy didn’t know what to say. In what way had she flaunted herself? What was wrong with coming into town for the day? What was wrong with her dress? All of a sudden the warmth and freedom of the day dwindled down to a cluster of doubts, and Maisy tugged self-consciously on her skirt. She couldn’t help flashing back to herself in a towel, stunned by his presence in her room. Was that the impression he had of her? A woman who displayed herself to strange men for sex? She cringed at the thought.
The truth wasn’t much better, and it wasn’t fair. It was him. It was because of him she had responded so uninhibitedly. But how could she explain that to him without making even more of a fool of herself?
Kostya had slumped over Alexei’s shoulder, taking in the view from this new height. He looked so comfortable up there Maisy only felt worse.
She had to rid herself of this stupid infatuation. It wasn’t fair to Kostya, and it wasn’t fair to her.
‘You’ve gone very quiet,’ Alexei said in a neutral voice.
‘I’m sorry. I wasn’t aware I was supposed to entertain you. I wouldn’t want to be accused of flaunting myself.’ Where had that bitter tone come from? She bit her tongue.
Alexei’s eyes swept her body in a way that was disturbingly intimate, met her stormy eyes. ‘You can have a social life here, Maisy. I just don’t want you bringing men back to the villa.’
Maisy almost choked, forced to defend herself. ‘What men? The only men I’ve seen for the past week have been in uniforms, and they barely give me the time of day!’
‘Hence your little day out.’ He spoke so quietly, so reasonably, Maisy could have hit him.
She stopped on the path, aware there were other people around and that Kostya, however young, shouldn’t be overhearing this conversation. ‘I think you’ve made it clear how low your opinion of me can go. I don’t think I should have to defend myself when I’ve done nothing wrong.’
Alexei instantly felt like a jerk. He knew he was being tough on her, but she provoked him. She was so lovely even a sackcloth wouldn’t stop men looking at her, and why it bothered him so much he was struggling to understand.
Because you want her, and if it backfires you’re stuck with her, a cool, cynical voice intervened.
The child heavy in his arms was a reminder of how careful he had to be.
‘I think we should go back,’ he said gruffly. ‘The boy has fallen asleep.’
Maisy didn’t reply. She just jerked the lightweight pushchair around and headed back up the path ahead of him.
It occurred to him she was acting like a girlfriend, not the nanny. And he didn’t have any experience of girlfriends.
Alexei took them back to the villa in his high-speed toy at a reasonable pace, handling the bends with such care and confidence Maisy realised he might have a point about the danger. Maria’s Audi would be returned to her by a despatched member of staff.
There was a taut, tense silence in the car that was tying Maisy’s stomach in knots.
She took a deep breath and examined his hard, uncompromising profile as he negotiated the road. An innocent trip into town had been turned into a man-trawling exercise on her part. He was clearly ready to believe the worst of her because it would make it easier for him to get rid of her when the time came.
Whatever I do, she thought a little desperately, it won’t be enough because he’s decided I’m a party girl. Which was so ludicrous she snorted.
His attention snapped to her. ‘What is it?’
Maisy checked over her shoulder. Kostya’s head was hanging; he was still deeply asleep.
She gave Alexei her best impression of Anais-like insouciance. ‘I was just thinking, if all the men in Ravello are hot for me I’m going to need some evenings off to accommodate them. How about Fridays and Saturdays?’
It was a stupid thing to do, but he was so self-righteous. She wanted to show him how silly all his preconceptions of her actually were. Instead, the moment the words were out of her mouth she knew she had made a mistake.
The car shifted down a gear, slowed, came to a soft standstill on the side of the road. Alexei unsnapped his safety belt, glancing into the backseat at the slumbering infant. Maisy shrank back against the door, suddenly wary of what she’d stirred up.
‘Wh—what are you doing?’ she stammered.
‘I need to make a call,’ he informed her, head averted, scissoring the door open and closed.
Lacing his hands behind his neck, Alexei walked out his frustration along the verge, taking a few deep breaths. She was a very young, very provocative woman. She was taunting him because he’d offended her. She didn’t mean to push his buttons. But she had.
He couldn’t drive safely until he’d worked this through.
All the men in Ravello. He’d brought it up. He’d put the words into her mouth. He’d put the thoughts into her head. Maisy was clearly no more promiscuous than he was. Yet … images he’d never be free of flashed like a viewfinder through his mind. His mother’s clients—sordid, terrifying for the child he had been. He let them flicker, then shut them off with abrupt practised closure, glancing back at the car. He could see her head bent, the gleam of all those fiery ringlets. He took a breath. This was Maisy—this was different. There was nothing more natural than his desire to take her to bed.
Maisy sat drowning in the sudden silence. She watched him in the rear-vision mirror as he walked slowly away from the car. Even through her shot nerves she registered his back view was
