Countess chided. ‘You come to stay and you don’t tell me in advance. I would have organised a dinner party in honour of your arrival if I’d known.’
‘How kind of you. But I’m not in the mood for major socialising. How about a dinner for just the two of us instead? Tomorrow night, perhaps? Eight o’clock suit you?’
‘Sì. Eight o’clock would be lovely. I will have Angela cook you something special. And I’ll open the Chianti Giovanni laid down in the cellar before he died.’
Which was almost ten years ago, meaning the Chianti would be fantastic to drink by now. ‘I will look forward to it. Must go, Claudia. I’ve been cleaning out the pool and I am in desperate need of a shower.’
He hung up swiftly before she could ask why he was doing Carlo’s job. Impossible to explain that he’d wanted to be cleaning the pool when Bella arrived, the driver having texted him the approximate time of their arrival before he’d left Milan. His plan had been for Bella to see him without the cloak of a suit, certain that she would find his body attractive. He had a good body, he knew. Also, if history was anything to go by, Bella had a penchant for tall men with olive skin and dark hair. He was confident that his plan had worked, her eyes eating him up more than once.
But Bella was a sophisticated and very beautiful woman. A successful woman. She didn’t need to chase after a man, even one she found physically attractive. She would be used to men chasing after her, sending her flowers and flattering her with words of admiration and desire. Sergio had thought of using such a method to seduce her, but decided against it, certain she would be bored with such obvious tactics. He wanted to be more original than that. Given the intimacy of their living in the same house, he was sure that a situation suited to seduction would present itself sooner or later.
‘A countess, Sergio?’ Bella said with a sardonic note in her voice. ‘Does she have red hair, perhaps?’
Sergio frowned. ‘Why would you say that?’
‘A very attractive woman with red hair claimed your arm at your father’s funeral whilst we were talking.’
Sergio couldn’t honestly remember. But Bella did. Which was interesting.
‘Claudia does have red hair. Yes. She’s my next-door neighbour,’ he added. ‘Lives in a villa up on the hill to our left, which makes the Morelli villa look like a B & B. She’s a very good neighbour. And a very good friend.’
‘And is the Count a very good friend of yours as well?’
Sergio smiled. She was jealous. Clearly, she’d been put out by his agreeing to have dinner elsewhere so soon after she’d come to stay. Which was exactly why he’d suggested it, Sergio having decided off the cuff to follow one of the tactics Jeremy had suggested the other night.
Treat ’em mean and keep ’em keen.
‘The Count died several years ago,’ he informed a curious-faced Bella.
‘I see,’ Bella said, somewhat snippily.
She didn’t see, of course. But that was all right. It suited Sergio’s purpose that Bella believed Claudia was a merry widow and that tomorrow night he would be having the beautiful widow for afters. But Claudia had to be at least fifty-five, her plastic surgeon deserving a medal for the wonderful job he’d done on her over the years.
Maria showed up at the table at that point with two plates of bruschetta, Sergio grateful for the food. He’d already had lunch but it seemed like hours ago, his appetite sharpened by the physical work he’d been doing.
All his appetites were sharp at that moment.
‘So are you going to tell me why you were so desperate to get away?’ he asked Bella between bites.
Her eyes betrayed a momentary confusion as though she’d forgotten the reason for her flight. But then she laughed. A strange laugh. Almost bitter. Possibly ironic.
‘It’s difficult to put into words. I guess I’d just had enough of everything. Enough of work. And life. And men. Especially men,’ she added with heavy emphasis.
Terrific, Sergio thought. Suddenly, his goal of seducing Bella just became even more difficult.
‘I’m a man,’ he said before he could think better of it.
‘I know that, Sergio,’ she said stiffly, her eyes closing momentarily as her shoulders lifted then sank. ‘But you’re...different.’
‘Not as different as you might think, Bella,’ he muttered, hating the way his conscience was suddenly prodding him.
‘You wouldn’t tell a woman you loved her just to get her into bed, would you?’
‘No. I wouldn’t.’ As much as he might be tempted to...
‘See? You’re different from the amoral bastards I’ve been unfortunate enough to get mixed up with. You’re a gentleman.’
‘But no less a man. If I really wanted a woman, I might not always act the gentleman.’
‘I don’t believe that.’
‘Then you’re a fool,’ he snapped, frustration making him impatient.
When he saw the hurt in her eyes his remorse was immediate.
‘I apologise,’ he said. ‘That was uncalled for. But I’m not a saint, Bella, and you’re a very beautiful woman.’
Their eyes met across the table, Sergio noting the instant panic in hers. He wasn’t sure if that was good news or bad.
‘M...maybe my staying here wasn’t such a good idea, after all,’ she stammered. ‘I think it would be best if I booked into a hotel.’
Bad news, damn it all. Still, Sergio wasn’t about to let Bella run away. He’d always known seducing her would be a challenge. But it would be impossible if she weren’t under his roof.
‘Don’t be silly, Bella,’ he said in a silky smooth voice, the one he used to negotiate difficult deals. ‘I’m not about to make some crass pass the moment Maria goes home this evening. I might be between girlfriends right now but I am at an age where I can manage without sex for a mere month. So eat and drink up, then go have a much-needed nap.’
BUT THAT’S THE PROBLEM, Bella wailed to herself as she dropped her eyes from his to the food. Any attentions on your part would be welcome. And the pass can be as crass as you like. Tell me you want me. Right here and now. On this table or on the floor. I won’t say no. I want you to strip off my panties and just do it. Without care. Without any words of love, or even liking.
Dear Lord, what was happening to her here? This wasn’t her, this creature who wanted such appalling things; who suddenly craved them. Of course, it was all just in her head. It wasn’t real. If Sergio actually made a pass at her, she’d probably run a mile.
But it wasn’t entirely in her head, was it? The heat between her thighs was real. So were the pounding of her heart and the
