Page 26 of Modern Romance Collection February 2025, 5-8

‘But you’re in Turin.’

‘No, I’m not,’ he growled.

Her heart missed another beat. ‘Where are you, then?’

There was another pause and when he spoke she could detect a different quality to his voice. There was resentment, definitely—but something else, too. Something which sounded like desire—although what would she know?

‘At the bottom of the hill,’ he bit out.

‘This hill? You mean here, in Tuscany?’

‘Of course I mean herein Tuscany!’ he exploded. ‘Where else would I mean?’

Ask him why. She should definitely ask him why. But part of her suspected she already knew the answer and if she challenged him, didn’t that run the risk he might change his mind? Because from where she was standing it seemed as though Romano was backtracking on his grim intention not to have sex with her again, and her heart gave an excited leap. Because wasn’t it kind of sexy and empowering that he was askingherpermission to come here, rather than just rocking up to the house, as he was perfectly entitled to? ‘Okay,’ she said carelessly. ‘I’ll talk to you.’

Romano’s heart was racing as he cut the connection and powered his car up the hillside, waving away the security guards who swarmed to the gates and seemed surprised to see him. You and me both, he thought grimly, trying not to scorch the tyres as the Ragno came to a screeching halt in front of thecastello. But clearly his brain wasn’t functioning properly and neither was his body, because something made him ring on the old-fashioned doorbell, as ifhewere the guest and she the proprietor. After a couple of minutes, she pulled the door open and when he saw she was wearing the uniform he had sent for her, he momentarily froze.Porca miseria!It swamped her tiny frame and didn’t suit her and the fact that in no way did she resemble the erotic fantasies he’d been nurturing about her should have been enough to kill his sexual hunger stone-dead. The scraped-back hair and sneakers only added to her subservient image—the plain silver studs at her ears functional rather than decorative. Yet somehow her very ordinariness was making his blood thunder.

He stepped over the threshold and shut the door behind him, meeting the glittering question in her green eyes as she backed away and surveyed him warily from across the wood-panelled hall. Did she think he was going to leap on her, like the big bad wolf?

And didn’t he want to?

‘Who else is here?’ he demanded.

‘Nobody. Unless you count the men in black swarming around the place, whose binoculars keep flashing every time I set foot outside.’ Now there was a tilt of her chin and a flicker of the defiance he knew of old. ‘So, what do you want to talk about, Romano? I presume you’re not here to check up on my work—although I’m quite happy to escort you around thecastelloso you can run your fingertip along the surfaces to check for dust. Speaking of which—I’ve still got that wardrobe to finish and it won’t clean itself.’ She raised her eyebrows. ‘So if you wouldn’t mind cutting to the chase?’

Romano stared at her with frustrated amusement as he thought how differently this scene would have played out if it had been any other lover. Women who would have correctly interpreted his desire and mood and played along with whichever fantasy he demanded. Or perhaps even prompted it with a little fantasy of their own. They certainly would have bothered to brush their hair and apply a little lip gloss!

A pulse began to beat at his temple. For days now, he had been waiting to hear from her—some irrelevant message contrived solely for the purpose of resuming contact between them. It was why he had deliberately instructed his assistant to include his personal phone number on all communication with her.

But there had been nothing.

When before had he stared at the blank screen of a phone, willing it to ring, frustrated as he had paced around his giant office on Turin’s prized Via della Consolata? Never! Eventually, he had dialled the head of the security detail he’d assigned, demanding to know why there had been no report delivered to him, and whether or not the Englishwoman was safe. Totally safe, the ex-special services veteran had reassured him hastily, before launching into a detailed account of Kelly’s comings and goings. Thesignorinahad walked here, and thesignorinahad walked there. For her lunch on the terrace, thesignorinahad eaten a panino with…

‘Have you beenstalkingher?’ Romano had demanded, quite unreasonably, and the bodyguard had attempted to defend himself.

‘Mai, no, signor!But thesignorina’s hair is so bright,’ the hapless man had continued dreamily. ‘It is hard to miss.’

Abruptly severing the connection, Romano had taken matters into his own hands. If he wanted to see her, then why not just bite the bullet and get on with it? Which was how he now found himself staring at her across the wood-lined hallway, uncharacteristically unsure how to proceed as he stared into a pair of eyes as green as the tail feathers of a peacock.

‘I don’t want to waste time talking,’ he admitted, on a growl.

‘But you just said—’

‘I want to take you to bed!’ he declared.

Such heartfelt though undeniably clumsy words would never usually have passed his lips, but Kelly obviously failed to appreciate the honour he was affording her. It should have opened the floodgates, redirecting some of the unbearable tension which was building up inside him by causing the tiny redhead to hurl herself eagerly into his arms and to ask him what they were waiting for. But she didn’t budge, just lifted her chin with a quiet dignity.

‘You told me you didn’t want to have sex with me again.’

‘Okay.’ The shrug of his shoulders was reluctant. ‘I was wrong.’

‘Sorry?’ She tipped her head to one side. ‘I didn’t quite hear that.’

‘I was wrong!’ he exploded.

‘All right! There’s no need to shout!’

Romano’s eyes narrowed. Had he thought she was a stranger to games? In that case, why was she playing him now, like a connoisseur? And why the hell was he letting her? ‘But I meant it when I said I don’t want a relationship,’ he elaborated.

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