One Kiss in... Paris. Robyn Grady

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СКАЧАТЬ studied first the luggage, set neatly by that door, then the broad back of a masculine frame standing alongside. Busy checking his high-tech security system, Mateo Celeca had no idea he’d had company. Bailey wasn’t normally one to show up unannounced, but today was an exception.

      Remembering manners, Mateo’s bemused expression eased into a smile … genial but also guarded.

      “Forgive me,” he said in a deep voice that hinted at his Mediterranean ancestry. “Do we know each other?”

      “Not really, no. But your grandmother should have rung. I’m Bailey Ross.” She drove down a breath and thrust out her hand. But when Dr. Celeca only narrowed his gaze, as if suspecting her of some offense, Bailey’s smile dropped. “Mama Celeca did phone … didn’t she?”

      “I received no phone call.” Sterner this time, that frown returned and his informal stance squared. “Is Mama all right?”

      “She’s great.”

      “As thin as ever?”

      “I wouldn’t say thin. After enjoying so much of her Pandoro, I’m not so thin anymore, either.”

      At her grin, Mateo’s cagey expression lightened. A stranger lands on your elite North Shore doorstep with a half-baked story, looking a mess after fifteen hours in the air, who wouldn’t dig a little deeper? But anyone who knew Mama Celeca knew her delicious creamy layer-cake.

      Looking like a sentinel guarding his palace, Mateo patiently folded his arms over the white button-down shirt shielding his impressive chest. Bailey cleared her throat and explained.

      “This past year I’ve backpacked around Europe. I spent the last months in Italy in Mama Celeca’s town. We became close.”

      “She’s a wonderful woman.”

      “She’s very generous,” Bailey murmured, remembering Mama’s final charitable act. She’d as good as saved Bailey’s life. Bailey would never be able to repay her, although she was determined to try.

      When a shadow dimmed the light in the doctor’s intelligent dark eyes, fearing she’d said too much, Bailey hurried on.

      “She made me promise that when I arrived back in Australia, first thing, I’d drop by and say hello.” She stole another glance at his luggage. “Like I said … not a good time.”

      No use delaying her own day, either. Now that she was home, she needed to decide what her next step in life would be. An hour ago she’d suffered a setback. Vicky Jackson, the friend she’d hoped to stay with for a couple of days, was out of town. Now she couldn’t go forward without first finding a place to sleep—and finding a way to pay for it.

      Mateo Celeca was still studying her. A pulse in his strong jaw began to beat before his focus lowered to his luggage.

      Bailey straightened. Time to go.

      Before she could take her leave, however, the doctor interjected. “I’m going overseas myself.”

      “To Italy?”

      “Among other places.”

      Bailey frowned. “Mama didn’t mention it.”

      “This time it’ll be a surprise.”

      When he absently rotated the platinum band of his wristwatch, Bailey took her cue and slid one foot back.

      “Well, give her my love,” she said. “Hope you have a great trip.”

      But, turning to leave, a hand on her arm pulled her up, and in more ways than one. His grip wasn’t overly firm, but it was certainly hot and naturally strong. The skin on skin contact was so intense, it didn’t tingle so much as shoot a bright blue flame through her blood. The sensation left her fizzing and curiously warm all over. How potent might Mateo Celeca’s touch be if they kissed?

      “I’ve been rude,” he said as his hand dropped away. “Please. Come in. I don’t expect my cab for a few minutes yet.”

      “I really shouldn’t—”

      “Of course you should.”

      Stepping aside, he nodded at the twelve-foot-high door at the same time she caught the scent of his aftershave … subtle, woodsy. Wonderfully male. Every one of her pheromones sat up and took note. But that was only one more reason to decline his invitation. After all she’d been through—given how narrowly she’d escaped—she’d vowed to stay clear of persuasive, good-looking men.

      She shook her head. “I really can’t.”

      “Mama would have my head if she knew I turned a friend away.” He pretended to frown. “You wouldn’t want her to be upset with me, would you?”

      Pressing her lips together, she shifted her feet and, thinking of Mama, reluctantly surrendered. “I guess not.”

      “Then it’s settled.”

      But then, suddenly doubtful again, he glanced around.

      “You just flew in?” He asked and she nodded. He eyed her knapsack. “And this is all your luggage?”

      Giving a lame smile, she eased past. “I travel light.”

      His questioning look said, very.

      Mateo watched his unexpected guest enter his spacious foyer. Sweet, he noted, his gaze sweeping over her long untreated fair hair. Modestly spoken. Even more modestly dressed.

      Arching a brow, Mateo closed the door.

      He wasn’t convinced.

      The seemingly unrehearsed sway of hips in low-waisted jeans, no makeup, few possessions … Bailey Ross had described his grandmother as “very generous,” and it was true. In her later years Mama had become an easy touch. He didn’t doubt she might have fallen for this woman’s lost-kitten look and his gut—as well as past experience—said Miss Ross had taken full advantage of that.

      But Mama was also huge on matchmaking. Perhaps Bailey Ross was here simply because his grandmother had thought she and her grandson might hit it off. Given how she tried to set him up with a “nice Italian girl” whenever he visited, it was more than possible.

      His first instinct had been to send this woman on her way … but he was curious, and had some time to spare. His cab wasn’t due for ten minutes.

      Taking in her surroundings, his visitor was turning a slow three-sixty beneath the authentic French chandelier that hung from the ornately molded second-story ceiling. The crystal beads cast moving prisms of light over her face as she admired the antiques and custom-made furnishings.

      “Dr. Celeca, your home is amazing.” She indicated the staircase. “I can imagine Cinderella in her big gown and glass slippers floating down those stairs.”

      Built in multicolored marble, the extravagant flight split midway into separate channels, which led to opposite wings of the house. The design mimicked the Paris Opera House, and while the French might lay claim to the Cinderella fable, he smiled and pointed out, “No glass-slippered СКАЧАТЬ