them. And, yes, even dangerous. And, as for artworks, I hadn’t even noticed.’ He paused and then admitted, ‘Who would think turning on the lights could make such a difference?’
She could.
CHAPTER EIGHT
ETHAN realised how much he had misjudged Susannah when his housekeeper, having returned with a fresh plate of food, took him to one side to inform him that she was glad to see how happy the piccola signorina was now the lights were on.
The way the older woman had held his gaze suggested more than the fact that Savannah was a guest with particular tastes to accommodate, or even that his housekeeper liked the young singer and wanted to make her stay as comfortable as possible. It was more the type of look the older generation gave the younger in Italy—and would sometimes be accompanied by tapping the side of the nose. Naturally, the older woman wouldn’t dream of being so familiar with him, but she had got her message across. He’d brushed off her inquisitiveness with a rare smile.
Some time ago he had come to understand and even envy the Italian nation’s fixation with love. And how could he be angry with Savannah, when all it took to make him smile was to watch her sucking her fingers with gusto before devouring another sandwich? Savannah had transformed the palazzo in the short time she’d been here, filling it with good things and raising the spirits of his staff. It wouldn’t last when she’d gone, of course, but she had unlocked one small portion of his heart, which was good news for his staff.
‘It is a beautiful room, isn’t it?’
As Savannah lifted her head with surprise, he realised he was seeing things through her eyes and how different things could be if he decided to make them so.
She’d go mad with grief if she heard that Ethan had returned to his old ways when she went home. And that wasn’t overreaction, it was pure, hard fact, Savannah concluded, blushing when, having held the door for his housekeeper, Ethan remained leaning against the door frame with his powerful arms folded across his chest, watching her.
Her body reacted as if Ethan had just made the most indecent suggestion. His tight fitting T-shirt strained hard across his chest, and his jeans were secured with a heavy-duty belt. She had noticed all this in the space of a few seconds, and started nervously when Ethan moved.
‘More sandwiches?’ he suggested, strolling across the room towards her.
She was as tense as a doe at bay, Savannah realised, sitting straight. ‘No, thank you.’
And then she decided she had better get up and clear some space on the table for all the new food, but being nervous and clumsy she moved erratically, and somehow a chair leg got in her way. Ethan called out, but it was too late, and as he reached out to grab her to stop her falling she ended up in his arms.
‘Suddenly you’ve got more legs than a millipede, and each one of them travelling in a different direction,’ he suggested.
‘Pretty much,’ she admitted, though the millipede analogy failed to grow on her. A better woman would have made the most of this opportunity, while all she could think was had she cleaned her teeth?
‘Well, I’m still hungry,’ he admitted, letting her go and heading back to the sofa.
She watched him stretch out his muscular legs, knowing she had never felt more awkward in her life. And yes—thank the dentist’s warnings—she had cleaned her teeth, but Savannah Ross was about to play host to Ethan Alexander? It hardly seemed possible.
‘Won’t you help me?’ He glanced her way as he reached for a sandwich. ‘My housekeeper clearly thinks we both need feeding up.’
Or perhaps the older woman wanted to keep him here, Savannah thought, surprising herself with this reflection. They ate in silence until Savannah put down her napkin with a sigh of contentment. The hearty feed had reminded her of home.
‘You were hungry,’ Ethan commented, wiping his lips on a napkin.
As he continued to stare at her, Savannah’s cheeks heated up. They were still talking about food, weren’t they?
Of course they were, she reasoned, smoothing out her hair, or rather the tangles. What must Ethan think of her, bare faced and barely dressed? Having never entertained a man before whilst naked beneath a robe, she wasn’t too sure of the protocol. And as Ethan still showed no sign of going anywhere, she suggested, ‘Why don’t I switch on the television?’ Maybe they’d catch the news, she reasoned.
‘The television?’
‘I just thought maybe there would be a news report about the match … or us.’ Her cheeks fired up as Ethan gave her a look. The word ‘us’ couldn’t have carried more embarrassing weight had it tried.
‘I try to escape the news when I’m here.’ Ethan’s tone was a chilling return to his former manner.
‘But surely not items affecting your business—or world affairs—or sport?’ She was running out of options, wishing she knew how to turn the clock back so she could remove all reference to ‘us’.
‘No,’ he said bluntly. ‘And, Savannah, I need to tell you something.’
By which time she’d switched on the set. Her timing was impeccable, Savannah realised, recoiling as she blenched. ‘Why, that’s ridiculous!’ A news item had just flashed up on the screen. A news item featuring Ethan Alexander caught out, so the reporters said, with his latest squeeze, a young ingénue only recently signed to his record label.
‘How could such a nice evening end so badly?’ Ethan wondered, glancing at her.
Now she knew why he hadn’t wanted her to turn it on. ‘How can you take it so well?’
‘Because I know what to expect. That’s one of the reasons I came to find you. I wanted to tell you myself before you found out by some other means. But now …’ Leaning across her, picking up the remote-control and pointing it at the set, he switched it off.
‘Shouldn’t we know everything before we do that?’ Savannah exclaimed. Terrible lies were being told about them. ‘Don’t you care what they’re saying about us?’
‘Do I care about gossip?’
‘Gossip? They’re telling lies!’
Ethan responded calmly. ‘What are they going to do? They’ll soon tire of us, and in no time those pictures will be wrapped around somebody’s fish and chips.’
‘A famous tycoon saves the girl with the golden tonsils, blushes, in front of a worldwide television audience?’ Savannah stuck a finger in her mouth to show what she thought of that. ‘A story like that could run and run.’
‘Gossip only hurts you if you allow it to,’ Ethan told her evenly. ‘And if you’re going to let it get you down like this, Savannah, perhaps you should have another think about pursuing a career in the public eye.’
Were those her marching orders? She went cold immediately, thinking of all the people who had helped her along the way and who would be badly let down if she quit. ‘But the press say we’re sleeping together.’ Surely that would get through to him?
Ethan’s brow
