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Hannah swung away as Luca dropped his trousers to change into his pyjamas. ‘I’m not afraid of that,’ she said, staring hard at the curtains drawn against the French windows. She could hear the whisper of fabric over Luca’s legs, imagined his powerful thighs, muscles flexing...
Stop. Hannah pressed one hand to her flaming cheek. She really had to get a grip on her imagination. And her hormones.
‘I’m dressed,’ he said mildly. ‘You can turn around.’
Taking a deep breath, Hannah did so. And dropped her gaze to his bare chest, his perfectly sculpted pectoral muscles lightly dusted with dark hair. The pyjama bottoms were slung low on his hips, so she could see the taut muscles of his abdomen, tapering down to... Quickly she jerked her gaze back up.
‘If you’re not worried that I’m going to ravish you, what are you afraid of?’ Luca asked.
Why did he have to sound so reasonable? And make her feel so ridiculous? ‘It just doesn’t seem appropriate,’ Hannah muttered.
‘Hannah, we passed “appropriate” a while ago.’ He took a step towards her, his hands outstretched. ‘Look, you were magnificent back there. The whole thing about the Eiffel tower and the ring? I was practically believing it myself. And you seemed like you were having fun.’ Hannah looked away, biting her lip. ‘Well?’ Luca pressed. ‘Were you?’
‘Sort of,’ she admitted. What woman wouldn’t like to step into a fairy tale for an evening, even if it was fake?
‘So maybe you should let go of what’s appropriate in this situation,’ Luca suggested, his voice dropping to a beguiling murmur, standing only a step away from her.
She had the insane urge to reach out and stroke his chest.
‘Let yourself enter into the spirit of the thing,’ Luca continued, his voice all honeyed persuasion. ‘Like you did tonight.’
‘And share your bed.’
‘In the literal sense only.’
‘Oh, you know I didn’t mean that,’ Hannah protested, her face flaming once more. She shook her head. ‘Honestly, you’re incorrigible.’
‘You’ve only just realised that?’ He turned to the huge bed and plucked the chocolate from the pillow. ‘So what are you waiting for?’ he asked as he unwrapped the chocolate and popped it into his mouth. ‘Come to bed.’
CHAPTER SIX (#u4f4978b9-1712-5358-b80f-d37e100db43a)
LUCA LAY IN BED, his arms braced behind his head, as he waited for Hannah to emerge from the bathroom. She’d been in there for quite a while, no doubt summoning her nerve to come out.
He didn’t feel bad about sharing the bed with her. He’d even suggested, before she’d huffed into the bathroom clutching her pyjamas, that she was free to construct a barrier of pillows between them if she really did fear for her virtue.
She’d rolled her eyes. ‘I can handle it,’ she’d retorted, which amused him because she’d been the one to get all worked up about the issue in the first place.
She’d been incredible tonight, though. Sparkling and funny and charming, and he’d seen how Andrew Tyson had come under her spell. He almost had. Luca had found his gaze continually moving towards her, ensnared by her tinkling laugh, her teasing smile, the way the light caught the honeyed highlights in her hair.
Several times he’d leaned forward to try to catch what she was saying, needing to know and not because of the pretence. Because he really wanted to hear.
Then he’d reminded himself that she was playing a part and so was he, and Andrew Tyson was falling for it. That was all that mattered. He had no sympathy for the man, no pity whatsoever. Watching Tyson, Luca had barely been able to sit across from him and keep a smile on his face. Hannah had at least provided a distraction from the rage that simmered beneath the surface, threatening to bubble over.
The door to the bathroom opened and Hannah stepped out. Her hair was loose about her face and she wore...
‘What the hell is that?’
Hannah glanced down at her roomy, faded T-shirt and shapeless boxer shorts. ‘My pyjamas.’
‘Didn’t you get pyjamas at the boutique?’
‘If you mean the scrap of lace that barely passes for a negligee, then yes. But I am not wearing that.’ She glowered at him, a flush firing her face. ‘There are limits, Luca.’
‘You can’t wear those. The staff come in to serve us breakfast in bed in the morning.’
Hannah didn’t look at him as she crossed the room and climbed into bed, dragging the duvet up to her chin. ‘So?’
‘So,’ Luca answered, ‘I want them thinking that we spent the night ravishing each other as any newly engaged couple on holiday would.’
The minute he said the words images emblazoned themselves on his brain. Heat flared inside him. And he felt Hannah stiffen next to him.
‘And they won’t think of that if I’m dressed like this?’ Hannah said after a moment. Her voice sounded suffocated. ‘Too bad.’
She turned away from him, her body radiating tension. Luca sighed and snapped off the lights. He’d pushed it far enough, he supposed, although in truth he wanted to see Hannah in a sexy nightgown for his own sake, never mind the staff who would come in the next morning.
‘You could have warned me about your friend,’ Hannah said after a tense silence when Luca had been willing the desire coursing through his body to fade.
‘My friend?’ he asked, nonplussed.
‘Daniela. She obviously knows you.’
‘We’ve met.’
‘You mean you’ve slept with her.’
Luca was silent, considering the assumption. He hadn’t slept with Daniela, although the Russian model had made it clear she’d wanted to. And considering what he was asking Hannah to do, he supposed she deserved to know the truth. ‘We went on a date,’ he said. ‘About a year ago. But nothing happened.’
‘I suppose she wished something did.’ Her voice was slightly muffled.
‘Maybe,’ Luca allowed.
‘Judging by the burning looks she was giving you over dinner, I’d say definitely. And she wasn’t impressed with me either. Not like that’s too surprising, though.’
Hannah’s words ended on a sigh and surprise flickered through him. ‘Why do you say that?’ he asked quietly.
Hannah didn’t answer for a moment. In the darkness he couldn’t see her features, only the taut shape of her body under the duvet. He heard the soft draw of her breath and it felt weirdly intimate. He realised he’d never actually slept in the same bed with a woman before. His assignations—he couldn’t even call them relationships—had always ended with a definitive post-coital farewell.
‘Well,’ Hannah said at last, ‘it’s obvious, isn’t it? A Plain Jane PA is hardly your type.’
‘You’re not a Plain Jane, Hannah.’
She laughed, a snort of genuine amusement that made him smile. ‘Come on, Luca. Your normal type is supermodels and socialites, right? I’m neither.’
‘That doesn’t mean you’re plain.’
‘I’m not glamorous or gorgeous,’ she returned. ‘I don’t mind.’ She shifted where she lay, so he felt the mattress dip beneath them. ‘Why do you date socialites and supermodels? I mean, why not a normal woman?’
‘Well.’ Luca cleared his throat, caught between amusement and a surprising embarrassment. ‘I’m not really interested in their personalities.’
Hannah was silent for a moment. ‘Well, that’s blunt,’ she said at last.
‘I try to be honest.’
‘Except when you’re duping a houseful of people into believing you’re about to be married.’ She rolled over so she was turned towards him, although Luca couldn’t actually see her face in the darkness. He had the alarming impulse to reach out to her, curve a hand around her neck and draw her closer. Kiss those lush lips he’d found himself sneaking looks at all evening. ‘Why do you go for shallow?’ she asked. ‘Why is it just sex for you? Because that’s what you’re saying, isn’t it?’
Luca was silent for a long moment, struggling to form an answer that was honest without being too revealing. ‘Because it isn’t worth it,’ he finally said. ‘To have more.’
He waited for Hannah’s response, his body tensing against the possible onslaught of questions. Her voice came out in a soft, sorrowful sigh.
‘Maybe it isn’t,’ she agreed quietly.
Luca waited for her to say more but she didn’t. He closed his eyes, telling himself it was better that way, because he didn’t want to explain his answer even if part of him wanted to know why Hannah agreed with him.
With his eyes closed, his other senses were heightened, so he could breathe in her light floral scent, feel the warmth of her body so close to his, hear the gentle draw and sigh of her breathing.
Desire flared through him again and more intensely this time, and ruefully Luca acknowledged that he might be the one in need of a pillow barrier. He rolled onto his other side, away from Hannah, and tried to will himself to sleep.
* * *
If this were a romcom, Hannah thought wryly, she and Luca would fall asleep and then somehow, in the night, they would wake tangled up in each other’s arms. They’d gaze into each other’s eyes, still caught in the throes of sleep, and then Luca would brush a kiss across her lips, slide his hand down her body, everything fogged with sleep...
Hannah realised her rueful imagination was fast turning into fantasy, and heat flooded her belly at just the thought of Luca looking at her that way. Touching her that way.
She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to banish the images. Maybe her mother was right, and she needed to start dating again. Diane was always worried that Hannah worked too much, that she didn’t have a social life of her own. Hannah replied that she didn’t have the time for a social life, but the truth was relationships were too much risk. Maybe that was something she and Luca had in common.
She sighed, the sound loud in the stillness of the room.
‘Problem?’ Luca asked, his voice sounding strained.
‘This is a bit awkward,’ Hannah said into the darkness.
‘Just go to sleep, Hannah.’ Luca sounded annoyed now, and, chastised, Hannah rolled away from him. She could do this. She was exhausted, for heaven’s sake. She needed her sleep. Yet all she could think about, all she could focus on, was Luca’s body a few feet from hers. Maybe only a foot. And his chest was bare. She imagined resting her cheek against it, her arms around his waist, their legs tangled together.
She stifled a groan. It was going to be a very long night.
* * *
Hannah woke to a light knock on the door and she blinked blearily as she raised her head from the pillow.
‘Just a moment,’ Luca called, and then his arm snaked out, hooking around her waist, and drawing her towards the hard wall of the chest. The feel of his body coming into full, intimate contact with hers stole the breath from her lungs and she froze in shock. Then she felt his obvious arousal nudging her thighs and she gasped aloud.
‘It’s morning,’ Luca muttered. ‘That’s all it is.’
All right, fine. She was a grown-up; she understood basic biological functions. But honestly. This was way, way past the call of duty. And yet it felt so very nice.
As the door opened, Hannah adjusted to the feel of Luca’s body against her own. This was what she had fantasised about last night, and the reality felt even better than she had imagined. His chest was warm and solid and the smell of him was intoxicating, overwhelming. The press of his hand on her lower back made her rock helplessly into his hips, his erection settling between her thighs, making heat flare sharply inside her. Luca’s breath hissed between his teeth as his body instinctively pushed back before he stilled.
‘Hannah.’
Mortified, she tried to move away, but Luca’s arms were like steel bands around her. ‘Stay still,’ he commanded in a low voice that was as hard as iron.
Two staff members wheeled in a cart laden with two breakfast trays, and Luca eased up in bed, taking Hannah with him so they were both reclining against the pillows, the duvet pulled demurely across their laps. Hannah wished, bizarrely perhaps, that she were wearing the gorgeous lace negligee, revealing as it was. She felt ridiculous in her oversized T-shirt that had faded to an unappealing grey colour from too many washes. And her hair... She lifted her hands to the tangle around her face and Luca smiled at her, tucking a stray strand behind her ear.
‘Nothing like a little bedhead in the morning,’ he said with a teasing smile, and Hannah blinked, discomfited, until she realised he was putting on a show for the staff.
‘I’m glad you love me no matter what I look like,’ she replied sweetly. ‘Or what I wear.’
The staff handed them their trays and with murmured thanks Hannah sat up straighter, taking in the freshly squeezed orange juice, the carafe of coffee, toast and fresh fruit and the most delicious-looking omelette. She could definitely get used to this.
The members of staff left quietly and Hannah reached for a piece of toast. She was not going to look at Luca, and remember how it had felt to have his arms around her, to arch into him... What had possessed her to do that?
‘So what’s the plan for today?’ she asked, deciding that ignoring that whole brief interlude was the best way to go. Luca, it seemed, did not agree.
‘Just to be clear,’ he said flatly, ‘we’re going to keep this as play-acting, and nothing more.’
Hannah eyed him resentfully, trying to keep the hot tide of embarrassment at bay. ‘You’re the one who insisted we share a bed.’
‘You’re the one who rocked against me like a wanton,’ Luca snapped.
‘A wanton?’ Hannah pushed aside the breakfast tray, her appetite having vanished, and scrambled out of the bed. ‘What century do you live in?’
‘I mean it, Hannah—’
‘Trust me, I take the warning. And just like you, Luca Moretti, I am perfectly able to sleep in the same bed as someone without ravishing them!’ Caught between fury, mortification, and tears, she grabbed her clothes and slammed into the bathroom.
* * *
Luca sighed and closed his eyes as the slam of the bathroom door echoed through the room. He’d handled that about as badly as possible. Calling Hannah Stewart a wanton was like calling Andrew Tyson a saint. Absurd. Laughable, except there was nothing remotely funny about either situation.
He opened his eyes and raked a hand through his hair, wondering how best to do damage control. Honesty? The truth was, he’d been far more aroused and tempted by Hannah’s slender body than he’d any right to be. When she’d rocked into him he’d felt his precious control starting to disintegrate, and it had taken its last shreds to keep from shouting at the staff to leave them alone so he could bury himself deep in her willing body. He was the wanton, not Hannah.
He had no idea why his pretty enough PA affected him this way; perhaps it was simply the strangeness of the situation, or that his senses and emotions felt raw from facing Tyson again after so many years. He couldn’t deny it, though; he’d been fighting an unreasonable and most inconvenient attraction to her since this whole charade had begun.
He drank his coffee, musing on the unwelcome distraction of his surprisingly delectable PA. He needed to focus on the real reason he’d come to Santa Nicola. He couldn’t let anything distract him from his purpose. Having Hannah upset or embarrassed was just as difficult and distracting as having them both fighting—and flirting with—a sexual attraction he didn’t think either of them had expected. It was time to nip this in the bud.
Fifteen minutes later Hannah emerged from the bathroom, her hair damp, her face composed. She wore a pretty pink linen sundress that skimmed her breasts and hugged her slim waist. She didn’t so much as look at Luca.
‘I’m sorry,’ Luca said as he pushed his breakfast tray away. ‘I shouldn’t have said that.’
‘You do have a tendency towards bluntness,’ Hannah replied as she struggled to put on her pearl necklace. This time Luca didn’t offer to help.
‘I wasn’t being blunt,’ he said. ‘I was dissembling.’
She glanced at him and then quickly away again. ‘How so?’
‘I’m attracted to you,’ he stated flatly. ‘To my own surprise.’
‘I thought it was just the morning,’ she returned tartly, but he could see her cheeks pinken.
