Page 22 of The Housekeeper and the Brooding Billionaire

‘You’ve given me an idea. Give me a few days and I’ll see what I can do.’

The prospect of solving his dilemma and proving herself capable gave Charlotte the fillip she needed. And helped banish the memory of her earlier bizarre reaction.

As if theContewould ever be interested inher.

There was no mist this morning as he trod the lakeside path. Already spring was advancing. Alessio felt its warmth and something else, an expectancy, a vigour in his blood he hadn’t known in what seemed forever.

Change was in the air. And in him? He felt different. Unsettled.

Yesterday he’d stood at his window, watching the visitors leave the chapel. Charlotte had waved them off, the sun burnishing her blond head, and he’d wanted, badly, to go down and bask in her warmth.

Even when she was annoyed with him, she was concerned about him, trying to feed him up or make him more comfortable. It was her job. Yet Alessio felt she actually cared about his well-being.

Sure! Enough to accuse you of being an egocentric miser.

But maybe that’s what he was, trying to make the world stop because he was too guilt-ridden to face it.

A sound made him halt, and there was the woman herself, leaving the bakery.

She looked alluring even in dark trousers and a white shirt. Her neat uniform couldn’t conceal those curves or long, supple legs. But it was the way she walked, head up, shoulders back, as if ready to face anything, that drew his focus. A more imaginative man would say she had an inner strength that would see her through the toughest times. A woman who could vanquish dragons.

Alessio stifled a bitter laugh. That proved he should have nothing to do with her. According to local lore, he as the Count Dal Lagowasthe dragon of the lake, descended from a line of rapacious strongmen who’d plundered what they wanted—lands, riches, even women.

Which made it farcical that he’d timed his walk to coincide with her visit to Mario’s bakery. So their meeting would appear accidental because he was too proud to send for her. But it wasn’t mere curiosity about yesterday’s chapel visit that brought him here. He wished it were so simple.

He wanted her.

He’d tried to pretend it wasn’t true.

He’d told himself he was overtired. But it wasn’t sleep he craved.

He’d only seen her half a dozen times, but there was no mistaking the attraction. It had been there from the first, snaking through his belly and disordering his thoughts.

After years wanting nothing more than solitude since he couldn’t find oblivion, suddenly Alessio wanted so much.

He moved closer. Charlotte swung around.And smiled.

That blaze of welcome punched him in the chest. Alessio’s lungs squeezed, pulse quickening as adrenaline shot through his bloodstream. His stride lengthened, greedy hands curling tight as he imagined reaching for her.

Then, in the blink of an eye, her smile faded, and she looked away. When their eyes met again, her expression was blank of everything but polite enquiry. She was the perfect housekeeper, no sign of the vibrant, welcoming woman whose smile had lit the fire smouldering in his belly.

A chill of understanding prickled his scalp.

‘Conte Alessio. You’re up early.’

‘Just Alessio,’ he ground out, unreasonably annoyed at her use of his title. Because it was a reminder of the barriers between them.

He’d let himself forget. As her employer, he had power over her, a power he could never abuse. He abhorred men who used their authority to coerce unwilling women.

Would Charlotte be unwilling? Had he imagined her eager grin? He’d believed he read interest, more than interest, in her eyes when she looked at him before today.

‘I couldn’t call you—’

‘Of course you can.’ He sounded grumpier than ever. But hewasgrumpy, and with good reason. ‘Anna calls me by my first name.’

‘It’s not the same. She’s known you for years.’

Alessio paused, acknowledging her point.

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