The Italians: Rico, Antonio and Giovanni: The Hidden Heart of Rico Rossi / The Moretti Seduction / The Boselli Bride. Kate Hardy

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СКАЧАТЬ Saturday, Rico arrived at Ella’s kitchen at half-past eight, just when she was putting cupcakes in a box. ‘What’s that?’ he asked, going over to the plate where a single cupcake sat. Then he laughed, seeing his name piped on top of the icing. ‘Now that’s cute.’

      She rolled her eyes. ‘You were supposed to ask if any of those cakes were going begging. And then I was going to tell you that, actually, one of them had your name on it, and present you with that one.’

      He wrapped his arms round her waist and kissed her. ‘I like your sense of humour, bellezza. Are you done, or is there anything I can do to help?’

      ‘I’m just dropping these off at the cafés. You can be my delivery boy and carry the boxes, if you like.’

      ‘Delivery boy, hmm? I assume the payment is in cake. But I should ask before accepting the job what the benefits package is.’

      Oh, the ideas that put in her head. ‘Cake,’ she said firmly. She wrapped catering film over his cupcake and put it in the fridge.

      He laughed and stole a kiss. ‘OK. Today’s “acquaintances”, too. I get it. Give me the boxes, bellezza.’

      Once they’d dropped off the cakes, they caught the Tube to Trafalgar Square. ‘I used to come here with my mum to feed the pigeons when I was a little girl,’ she said, ‘but people are banned from feeding them now.’

      ‘I can see why. Their droppings do a lot of damage to stonework, and they’re a health hazard. I don’t encourage them at any of my hotels, either,’ Rico said. He gazed round the square. ‘So this is the famous fountain—the one everyone jumps into on New Year’s Eve?’

      ‘Well, not everyone. And I imagine this probably feels a bit plain and small to you, after all the gorgeous ones in Rome, but it’s had a makeover recently, so it’s lit up by coloured lights at night. And the water goes higher now than I ever remember it being when I was a child,’ she said.

      ‘No, it’s charming,’ he said.

      They wandered along to see the bronze Landseer lions guarding Nelson’s Column. ‘I like these, too. Very stately,’ he said with a smile.

      ‘We could go to the National, as we’re here,’ she said. ‘Or, as it’s a nice day, maybe we can walk by the river. There are usually street performers on the South Bank at weekends.’

      ‘It’s too nice to go indoors,’ he agreed.

      Over on the South Bank, there were indeed the street performers she’d promised: living statues, jugglers, a contortionist, a man making balloon animals for children, and a string quartet in full evening dress playing Mozart.

      There were also a crowd of artists, sketching caricatures and portraits of willing punters. He smiled. ‘They’re like the ones at the top of the Spanish Steps. Rome isn’t so very different from London.’ He gazed up at the London Eye. ‘That’s on our list, yes?’

      ‘Yes. I’m not sure whether to take you there by day or by night.’

      ‘We’ll do both.’ He gave her a wicked grin. ‘Seeing as I’m such a spoiled rich kid.’

      She sighed. ‘I did apologise for that.’

      ‘I know. I’m angling for a kiss better.’

      ‘Oh, you fraud.’

      ‘Please?’ He batted his eyelashes at her. ‘Pretty please with sugar on it?’

      How could she resist? This was a different side of Rico. A playboy, but not a selfish one. And she really, really liked this side of him. Though at the same time it made her nervous. Was this the real Rico? She couldn’t tell; and it worried her how easy it would be to let herself fall for him. How could she fall for him when she wasn’t sure she could trust him?

      When he saw the children playing in the fountain installation, jumping the boundaries between each ‘room’ made from the fountain jets when they died down, he tugged at her hand. ‘Come on. That looks like fun.’

      ‘I’m not sure if there’s a set rotation of the walls or if it’s random,’ she said.

      He watched the walls of water for a while. ‘Random. Which is more fun. Your choice which way we jump—now!’

      She picked the wrong one, and they both got soaked as the water rose up between the grids. Rico simply laughed and kissed her.

      ‘Typical Roman boy—can’t resist the fountains,’ she teased.

      They lay on the grass in Jubilee Gardens to dry out, enjoying the early summer sunshine. ‘Do you like Chinese food?’ she asked.

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘Good—we’ll eat in Chinatown tonight.’

      He smiled. ‘I love it when you go all bossy on me.’

      She coughed. ‘Isn’t that a bit pots and kettles?’

      ‘A bit what?’

      ‘Pots and kettles.’ She flapped an apologetic hand at him. ‘Sorry, your English is so good that I forget you might not know all the idioms. It’s a saying, “the pot calling the kettle black”—because they were both covered in soot. Or were, in the days when people cooked over an open fire,’ she explained.

      ‘Hypocritical, you mean. As in me calling you bossy when I’m just as bad.’

      ‘Yes.’

      He leaned over and kissed her until she was dizzy. ‘If we weren’t in a public place, I’d show you just how bossy I can be,’ he whispered.

      He’d actually made her forget where they were. And that people were all round them—people who could see him kissing her so passionately, and the way she responded to him. Colour rushed into her face, and he laughed. ‘I love the way you blush. You’re so cute, Ella bellezza. And you’re like nobody else I’ve ever met.’

      ‘I hope that’s meant in a nice way.’

      ‘Yes.’ And Rico was surprised by how much he was enjoying Ella’s company. He could relax with her, be himself, act on crazy impulses and play in a fountain with her—and she didn’t complain that her hair was ruined or sulk about getting splashed. He was enjoying himself more than he had in years.

      Yet, at the same time, it made him panic. It would be, oh, so easy to fall for Ella Chandler. To be hers for the taking.

      But what if, once he let her that close, he wasn’t enough for her? Just as he hadn’t been enough for his parents. Just as he wasn’t enough for his grandparents.

      He’d never really loved anyone. And maybe he never would be able to love someone the way that Ella would want to be loved. Maybe it just wasn’t in him.

      ‘Come on, bellezza. You’re supposed to be showing me round London.’ And he needed serious distraction from his thoughts. The best way to distract himself would be to carry Ella to his bed—sex always worked—but he’d promised not to rush her. And he had a nasty feeling that sex was different with СКАЧАТЬ