The From Paris With Love And Regency Season Of Secrets Ultimate Collection. Кэрол Мортимер

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      Caring.

      And the warmth was astonishingly comforting. Charlotte could feel her fingers creeping to the edges of the jacket to pull it closer around her. The warmth was the warmth of Nico’s body. The slide of the silk lining against the bare skin of her arms and shoulders made it feel as though he was touching her.

      It was disturbingly intimate now. Charlotte could even catch a whiff of a scent that was pure male. Pure Nico? She had to close her eyes for a heartbeat as she tried to stop herself inhaling deeply.

      ‘Your grandmother loves you very much,’ Nico said quietly. ‘She does not want you to be hurt…again.’

      Again? Her eyes snapped open. Oh, my God…what had they been talking about in there? But Gran didn’t know the truth so she couldn’t have told Nico. She was safe.

      So why didn’t she feel safe?

      ‘W-what did you say?’

      Nico looked more serious than she’d seen him look all day. Even when he’d been arriving at a potentially fatal incident. The subdued look didn’t sit well on a face that was made for laughter. Her heart skipped another beat.

      ‘I told her that I would never hurt you.’

      ‘So she still thinks that we’re…we’re engaged?’

      Nico’s mouth twitched. ‘I’m afraid so. I couldn’t bring myself to cause her pain.’

      It shouldn’t be such a relief. Not when Charlotte couldn’t see any way out of this.

      ‘And the train?’

      Nico shrugged. ‘I have a free day. I have to get back to London. Why not?’

      ‘Because…it’s impossible. How could we keep this up for thirty hours?’ Charlotte had another try at tugging the ring off her finger, looking away from him as she did so.

      She could see past Nico to where the final guests for the evening were leaving. Only her grandmother remained and the maître d’ was looking concerned, helping the elderly woman to her feet. Lady Geraldine was pointing towards the balcony. And now she was walking towards the door.

      ‘Nothing is impossible,’ Nico was saying.

      ‘She’s coming. She’ll guess. She’s not stupid.’

      ‘She won’t guess if you stop trying to remove that ring.’ Nico caught her hands. ‘If we…’

      His hands moved, pulling hers up to his neck before he let them go. His hands kept moving, though, burying themselves in her hair. Cupping the back of her head and tilting it as he leaned in to cover her mouth with his own.

      He was kissing her.

      Just for show. To cover an awkward moment when Gran might have picked up on the tension between them.

      Except…it didn’t feel like a pretend kiss.

      Or maybe it did, for that first, startled moment as their lips made contact, but then Nico’s lips moved with a kind of question that Charlotte couldn’t help responding to on some deep, instinctive level that totally overruled any conscious thought. Her lips parted beneath his and when she felt the touch of his tongue against hers all ability to control her thoughts vanished.

      A fleeting hope that her grandmother would see them and stay well away to give them a private moment evaporated, along with any awareness of what was around them. Charlotte was completely lost in this kiss. Transported to a place she’d never been. A place where passion and tenderness combined to create an all-consuming fuel that could burn away anything and everything and leave only peace and fulfilment in its wake.

      A kiss that promised everything. So much more than this touch of lips and tongues.

      More…

      And that was when Charlotte stopped being lost. She couldn’t do more. If she tried, Nico would find out and he would know what was so wrong with her.

      That she could go so far and no further. Because she was not a real woman. Real women liked going further. They weren’t…frigid.

      That did it. Just the tiniest echo of that hateful word was enough. Charlotte wrenched herself back from Nico’s touch. His jacket slid from her shoulders and puddled on the stone terrace. She could turn to see what had happened, scoop up the jacket and try to collect herself before acknowledging her grandmother standing in the restaurant doorway.

      ‘Oh…Gran…I’m so sorry. I…lost track of time.’

      ‘So I see.’ Lady Geraldine’s smile warmed the winter’s night.

      Nico was rubbing his lips slowly with his forefinger, staring at Charlotte, but now he also turned towards the door.

      ‘You must be tired, Jendi. Let me see you both back to your hotel.’

      ‘That would be lovely, Nico. Thank you. We have an early start tomorrow. I think we have to be at the Santa Lucia station by nine a.m. to catch the train.’

      It was Charlotte’s turn to stare at Nico but he didn’t meet her gaze. Instead, he put an arm around her waist as they began moving.

      ‘No problem,’ he told her grandmother. ‘I’m an early riser.’

       CHAPTER SIX

      ‘WHERE IS HE?’

      ‘I don’t know, Gran.’ Charlotte allowed a small seed of hope to blossom that Nico might fail to show up in time. Or maybe that odd squeeze in her chest was disappointment?

      Yep. There was definitely an internal struggle going on here. The safest thing was to never see Nico Moretti again and that’s what she should want. And, yes, she could try and convince herself that she only wanted him around, continuing this pretence of a relationship, because it was such a joy to see her grandmother so happy, but there was no way of hiding the real truth. Part of her—a big, rebellious part of her—simply wanted to be close to him again.

      ‘Maybe something came up.’ Like a bout of common sense? ‘He doesn’t have our phone numbers so he might not have been able to let us know.’

      The train was already here at the station, the sleek, dark blue carriages with the gold trim, the coat of arms featuring two rampant lions and the lettering announcing that this was, indeed, the Venice Simplon Orient Express. As if anyone could mistake it! Among the ordinary modern European trains in the station, this one stood out like a beacon. So did the attendants. The gold-trimmed blue uniforms looked positively military and the pillbox hats the stewards were wearing made them look ready for a fancy-dress party.

      The check-in desk stood out on the grey concrete of the platform in equally startling contrast. A red carpet, of all things, with brass posts holding tasselled ropes to create an oasis of luxury amidst the mundane. Even the people milling around looked different. Like that young woman in a long coat that belonged to another СКАЧАТЬ