Powerful Italian, Penniless Housekeeper. India Grey

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      Hearing him say her name detonated a tiny explosion of shock in her abdomen that stopped her dead for a moment. Her mouth opened, though it was a couple of seconds before she was actually able to speak.

      ‘How do I know I can trust you?’ she said sulkily, squinting into the dazzling light, wishing she could see him. ‘You could be anyone.’

      ‘You don’t, and I could, but now’s not really the time for lengthy introductions. Let’s just say that my name is Lorenzo, and right now I’m all that’s standing between you and a very nasty fall.’

      His voice was doing things to her. Inconvenient things, given her position. Irritation fizzed inside her. ‘I don’t mean to be rude when we’ve only just met, Lorenzo, but you’re building your part up just a little bit. I’m not stupid, you know—I did check before I got up here that it was safe. The roof hardly slopes at all and the tiles are fixed down properly—’

      Sarah took a step towards the edge and as she did so felt the tile beneath her foot crack and give way suddenly. She let out a sharp cry of anguish, her arms windmilling madly as she tried to keep her balance.

      Suddenly she was afraid.

      ‘It’s OK. You’re all right.’

      ‘That’s easy for you to say,’ she gasped with a slightly wild laugh. ‘You’re not the one who’s about to crash through the roof and end up on the kitchen table.’ She closed her eyes for a second, waiting for the adrenaline that was pumping through her and making her feel shaky and unsteady to subside.

      ‘That’s not going to happen.’

      ‘How do you know?’

      ‘Because I’m not going to let it.’ The beam of light swung away from her and she shivered in the sudden darkness. But a moment later he spoke again, and his voice was closer now.

      ‘I can’t do this and hold the torch, so you’re going to have to listen very carefully and do what I say. OK?’

      ‘OK.’ Her voice sounded small and quiet. But perhaps it was just because her heart was suddenly beating very loudly, making the blood pound in her ears. The torch was on the ground far below, its powerful beam cutting through the indigo darkness and turning the rain on Angelica and Hugh’s limestone patio into pools of mercury. Up here it seemed very dark.

      ‘Come carefully towards the edge of the roof and stop when I tell you.’

      Sarah did as he said, letting out another whimper of fear as she felt another tile crack. Rain was running down her face, making her eyes sting. She closed them.

      ‘That’s it. Stop there,’ he ordered, and although his voice was harsh there was a peculiar intimacy to it. ‘Now, reach out your arms. I’m going to lift you down.’

      ‘No! You can’t! I’m too heavy, I’ll…’

      But the rest of her protest was lost as she felt one arm circle her waist, and then she was being pulled against his body.

      Through the thin layer of their wet clothes she could feel the warmth of his skin, his hard-muscled chest. Instinctively her hands found his shoulders, and even through her shock and fear she was aware of their power. Heat suddenly erupted inside her, tingling through her chilled body.

      ‘Thank you,’ she muttered, trying to pull quickly away from him as her feet made contact with something solid. Instantly the world tilted and her stomach gave a sickening lurch as she felt herself falling and realised she had just stepped off the edge of the table they were standing on. He grabbed her again, pulling her back into the safety of his arms.

      ‘I’m beginning to think you have a death wish,’ he said grimly, sweeping her legs from under her and holding her against him as he climbed down from the table in one fluid movement.

      ‘If I did I could think of more elegant ways to end it all than falling off a roof while wearing nothing but my nightie. Now, please, put me down.’

      ‘The gravel is sharp and you’ve got no shoes on.’

      ‘I’m fine. I can manage. Please…’ she said, miserably aware that by now his back was probably groaning with bearing the weight of her. Although he certainly showed no sign of noticing that she was heavier than your average feather pillow. Against her ear his breathing was perfectly slow and steady, and his pace easy. It didn’t slow at all at her words either, she noticed with a thud of alarm and helpless excitement as they rounded the corner of the house and he made straight for the hulking shape of a large 4x4 that loomed out of the darkness. ‘Where are you taking me, anyway?’

      ‘Home.’

      ‘Look, stop, please. And let me go!’

      He sighed. ‘If that’s really what you want…’

      Unreasonable disappointment shafted through her as he set her down on the wet gravel and stood back. She wobbled slightly as the sharp stones cut into her feet. Out of the warmth of his arms, she realised how cold she was.

      ‘It is,’ she said and hoped that the sudden feeling of uncertainty about that wasn’t evident in her voice. ‘Look, it’s very kind of you to help, but we’ll be fine here until morning. We’ve never even met before and there are five of us here, so—’

      ‘Actually, you’re wrong.’

      ‘What do you mean?’

      ‘Well, for a start, your family are already there, at Castellaccio.’

      ‘What? But they can’t…we can’t…possibly descend on you. It’s out of the question-we’ll manage fine here.’

      ‘Funny. That wasn’t what your sister said. Or her friend— Fenella, was it?’

      Bloody Fenella. Her words from earlier echoed mockingly around Sarah’s head. He sounds delish. I wouldn’t mind getting on the right side of him…Of course, never in a million years would she pass up the opportunity to get a foot in the door of a film director’s luxury palazzo. Limping as quickly as she could after Lorenzo Cavalleri, it wasn’t just the sharp gravel beneath Sarah’s bare feet that made her wince.

      He reached the car and pulled open the door. A small light inside went on and she felt her heart stop, and then start again with a painful thump as she caught a fleeting glimpse of hard cheekbone and sharp jawline darkened with stubble before he melted back into the darkness and went around to the other side of the car.

      For a moment he had reminded her of the man in the pub that night. The man who had kissed her. But of course that was ridiculous; he was Italian, and male—that was where the coincidence ended. Getting into the car, she quickly did up her seat belt and, as he got into the driver’s seat beside her, deliberately turned her head and looked out into the wet night.

      She could hardly remember what he looked like anyway, she told herself crossly. Because it was unimportant. He was unimportant.

      ‘First thing tomorrow I’ll get a decent local builder to come and have a look at the roof and then hopefully we can get it sorted out,’ she said stiffly as he started the engine.

      ‘You СКАЧАТЬ