scusi,’ the maid said again. She was kneeling on the floor, trying to sort out the things, but Matteo was far from impressed with her attempts to apologise. He didn’t believe she was sorry for a moment, though his words were not sharp when he addressed her, more wearied.
‘Get up, Bella.’
HER LONG BLACK hair was falling out of her ponytail and covering her face, but nothing could have stopped him from recognising her, and Matteo watched her hands still as he said her name.
She bit her nails, Matteo noticed.
He remembered that she hadn’t.
That night, with him, her nails had been short but neat.
Every inch of her body held the potential for such vivid recall yet he fought it even now.
‘I said, get up.’ This time his voice was harsh but better that than dropping down to his knees and taking her back in his arms.
He waited for her to apologise again, to plead for forgiveness, but instead she looked up and beneath the sheet Matteo grew to her gaze as for the first time in many years their eyes met again—how he wished that the rare mossy green of her eyes that had enthralled him might leave him cold now.
Not a chance.
‘Mi scusi...’
‘Stop apologising, Bella. We both know that that was no accident...’
‘But of course it was,’ Bella insisted, still on her knees and looking up. ‘I did knock. I thought I heard someone call out for me to enter. I got a fright when I saw the sheets move and I tripped...’ She looked at the empty bottle of champagne that had fallen to the floor. ‘I am so sorry to have upset your fiancée. Was the water very cold?’
‘It did its trick,’ Matteo said. He was starting to lose his patience and taking her forearm he hauled her up to stand. ‘Get up, Bella.’
The dousing of water certainly wasn’t doing its trick now, for her skin was warm beneath his fingers and the scent of her, even after all these years, was familiar. Only how could that be, for that night she had been doused in cheap perfume?
He had bathed that scent away, Matteo recalled, even as he fought not to remember.
Instead, he inhaled the starch from her maid’s uniform.
It did not help.
Possibly, Matteo decided, Bella was the only woman who could wear pale green with a cream apron and still make it look sexy. Her legs were bare but even the flat lace-up shoes failed to detract from the beauty of her long limbs. Her body was just as slender as yesteryear, her eyes were still so big in her face and those lips that should not be smiling, given the chaos she had just created, still melted him.
There was, even with Shandy in the bathroom, a want and a need to kiss the smile from Bella’s face...
‘Are you surprised to see me, Matteo?’
‘Not really.’ He shrugged as if facing her again was the easiest thing in the world, as if he hadn’t spent the best part of the night locked in sensual dreams with her. ‘I heard at dinner last night from Sophie that you worked here...’ That would account for dreaming of her, Matteo decided, and then he remembered why they could never be.
She preferred her work to him.
‘Are your clientele richer here, Bella?’
‘They are.’ Bella smiled. ‘I wonder if even you could afford me now.’
‘Oh, but I’m sure that I could,’ Matteo said. ‘Given that I’m looking to buy this hotel. In a few months’ time I may well be your boss...’
‘Never,’ Bella spat.
‘Why are you suddenly so cross?’ Matteo asked, his voice low and husky, his face far too close to hers, so close that he could feel her soft, rapid breaths on his cheek and it reminded him of her first orgasm. ‘From what I remember, we parted on very friendly terms.’
The slight tickle of her breath halted.
He looked down at her lips and then back to her eyes and they were both beyond turned on. His eyes then drifted down. Her nipples were erect and Matteo could smell the scent they made and he told her the truth. ‘I could take you now and I wouldn’t even have to pay you.’
She gave him the slowest smile. ‘Of course you wouldn’t have to pay me. I would do you for free, Matteo.’ She dropped her voice from low to a throb. ‘Do you want me in my uniform? That’s very tame. Do you want a personal turn-down service or would you prefer to wake up to me? The choice is all yours.’
His fists bunched to hear her speak like that.
‘Are you going to hit me again, Matteo?’
‘Don’t twist what happened then to suit you now.’
‘I’m not.’ Bella smiled wantonly. ‘But you must know that if he is gentle, if he is considerate then a woman always has a soft spot for her first...’ As the duty manager knocked on the door of the suite she continued her soft taunt. ‘A tender spot...’ Bella said. ‘A sweet, warm spot...’ And then she told him a truth of his own. ‘Were you thinking of me as she sucked you?’ Bella asked, and laughed out loud. ‘But of course you were—I assume that you got my bedside note, warning that tomorrow would be stormy and hot.’
‘Jealous, Bella?’ Matteo demanded, as there was another knock on the door to the suite. ‘Is that the reason you threw water over us...?’ He released her arm to go and get the door as she spoke on with a sneer in her voice.
‘I wasn’t jealous at all—my mother used to do the same to dogs in the street.’
He had been about to let the manager in but instead he turned and fronted her, his anger pushing her up against the wall.
‘Shandy and I are not dogs and we were not out on the street. I was in bed with my lover...’
It was Bella’s turn to be doused but it felt as if it was by acid as Matteo shrugged off the sheet and picked up his robe.
His words made her face go pale and she shrank against the wall. It hurt so much to hear that and the enormity of what she had done was just starting to hit.
And then she glimpsed again his beauty.
He wasn’t bashful, there was no point, there was nothing of him that Bella hadn’t already seen, and so as he dressed she was taunted by one last glimpse of Matteo Santini naked.
One glimpse was enough to reveal that his thighs were more muscular, his arms just as toned. One glimpse was too much for she saw him, half-aroused, lifting from his thigh, and she knew it would never be hers to hold again.
Matteo strode off to let the manager in and the angry blonde came out of the bathroom. Her hair was wrapped
