Page 232 of Modern Romance November 2024 5-8

‘I told you to leave it,’ Marcello snapped when he returned moments later with a hand towel from the bathroom and found Victoria putting all the smaller glass fragments into the larger pieces.

‘It’s my mess, I should clean it.’

‘You have done enough.’

Her flinch made his guts clench.

Marcello knew he was being unreasonable but his clenched guts were burning.Hewas burning.

It had been hard enough dealing with and fighting his own erupting attraction when he’d believed it to be one-sided. To see it mirrored in Victoria’s eyes...

Dio, he wished he could wipe what he’d seen from his mind.

If that look had come from anyone but Victoria then he’d be welcoming it.Delightingin it.

But Victoria wasn’t just anyone. She was far from being justanyone. She was his Woman Friday. A purely platonic Woman Friday. He’d made damned sure of that.

He could not lose her from his life. To act on their feelings could only lead to disaster.

He had an awful sinking feeling that disaster had already struck.

He’d had to brace himself just to walk back into the bedroom with her lunch, had had to set a clear path in his mind for dealing with it: he would deliver food to wherever she wanted and then, once she was settled and comfortable, he would leave.

If not for the smashed glass he’d already be back at his computer immersing himself in work.

Or trying to.

What was it they said about the best-laid plans? he thought grimly, crouching beside her and doing everything humanly possible to tune out the closeness of the body driving him to distraction.

‘I never asked to get ill,’ she snapped back, pinching another small shard and dropping it with the others.

He gritted his teeth. ‘I never said you did.’

‘You just implied it.’

Dio, he should be celebrating that she was enough of herself to argue with him; the memory of that long night when he’d had grips of fear that she’d never argue with him again still fresh, but the sleeve of her T-shirt brushed against his arm as she reached over to pinch another shard and he knew that if he looked down, he’d find the hem had risen higher up her thigh and would be skimming the bottom his fingers wouldn’t quit yearning to touch.

‘Will you get out of my way and let me clear this up?’ he demanded roughly, lifting the tray and running the towel over the table to soak up the spilt water.

‘Will you stop talking to me like you think I’m an annoyance?’

‘Then stop being annoying.’ Feeling her angry...hurt...stare on him, Marcello gritted his teeth even harder. He would swear he heard her grit her teeth too.

‘I’m not going to throw myself at you, you know,’ she said tautly.

His guts kicked in rhythm with his heart. Breathing heavily, he tightened his grip on the towel. ‘Do not go there, Victoria.’

Some things should never be spoken of. Never openly acknowledged.

He felt her shift. Knew without looking that she’d untucked her calves from beneath her and was now sitting on her damnably beautiful bottom.

‘Why not when that’s what this is all about?’ she retorted. ‘Because it is, isn’t it?’ There was a catch in her musical lilt. ‘I know you saw it, but I know perfectly well that you don’t see me in the same way, so unless you’re deliberately trying to hurt me, you don’t have to make your revulsion so blindingly obvious.’

CHAPTER SIX

THECLEARBLUEeyes Victoria had always been able to read so well suddenly snapped onto hers. They glittered with a darkness that turned her stomach to mush and made the beats of her racing heart thrash.

She forced herself to gaze into the darkness. She didn’t have to force the words that came next. ‘Do you think Iwantedto become attracted to you?’ Something was building in her chest, a sob or laughter, she didn’t know, but she pinched the bridge of her nose in a valiant attempt to stop it escaping. ‘Never mind that you’re my boss—were my boss—you’d give Casanova a run for his money.’ A short bark of laughter escaped at the same moment a tear spilled over. ‘Whatever stupid feelings have developed on my part are just a side-effect of the virus, and even if the attraction was returned I would never be stupid enough to act on it, so—’

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