Page 32 of The Housekeeper and the Brooding Billionaire

Later, after she’d spurned her father’s schemes and had no money, she’d learned to sew her own clothes. She could have dipped into her savings now to buy something special but had no time to travel to a city boutique. Nor did she trust online shopping. This had to be something stunning, made specifically for her.

Because you want Alessio to look at you with more than admiration and respect. You want him to want you. You want him to feel that same trembling tug of awareness.

Charlotte pressed a hand to her thundering heart.

It was ridiculous. She’d seen photos of his glamorous wife with a film star’s poise and beauty to match. Her glossy dark hair, sculpted features and stunning body cast other women into the shade.

No ordinary woman could compare.

Yet there’d been times when Charlotte felt Alessio’s hungry stare. Beensurehe experienced that desperate attraction too. But he’d pulled back, and she didn’t know what to do with the jumble of emotions and longing inside her. It felt like her skin was too tight, and nothing would soothe her but his touch.

She should be grateful he’d withdrawn. An affair with her boss was impossible. It broke every professional rule.

Yet an unfamiliar part of her, oblivious to propriety or duty or even the future, craved the impossible.

For the first time, she desired a man with all her being. He infuriated her yet drew her like metal to a magnet.

She wanted Alessio to find her desirable in her own right. Not as simply convenient as she’d been to the man who’d considered marrying her to cement a deal with her father. Or to the hotel guests who’d assumed too much about the services hotel staff provided.

Even if it could go nowhere. Even if Alessio still grieved for the wife he’d lost.

Shame burned in her, yet that didn’t stop this yearning. It was utterly selfish, but to know just once that he too felt this, even though he’d never pursue it, was vital.

To her self-esteem? Surely not. She didn’t need a man to make her feel good about herself.

But maybe it was time to come out of the self-imposed hibernation she’d embraced after her mother died. She’d been grieving and lost when her father tried to force her into an engagement. Her first and only sexual experience had been the deliberate, crude groping of a man who thought himself entitled to her body because her father badly wanted to do business with him.

Charlotte smoothed her palm across the rich fabric. She imagined it against her skin, but from there her imagination leapt to the idea of Alessio’s strong, capable hands stroking her flesh.

Fabric crumpled under clutching fingers as she shivered. Primal instinct warned that she courted disaster. Instead of trying to attract Alessio, she should find an excuse to leave. No matter how much explaining she had to do in her next job.

That would be sensible. Trouble was, for the first time in forever, Charlotte didn’t feel sensible.

‘There you are. I’ve been searching for you.’

Charlotte sat back on her haunches and looked up. Her head swam, and she told herself it was because she’d been leaning deep into the cupboard in the butler’s pantry. Not because Alessio filled the doorway, making her pulse gallop.

‘I’m taking inventory of the silverware for supper on the night of the ball.’ She held up a huge platter engraved with his coat of arms. There were at least a dozen such platters, plus tureens, gravy boats, goblets, cutlery and a multitude of other items.

‘If you need more, let me know and I’ll open one of the vaults.’

Oneof the vaults?

‘I’m sure that won’t be necessary.’ Charlotte scrambled up, feeling at a disadvantage on the floor. ‘What can I help you with?’

She kept her gaze on his chin rather than his eyes, but that was a mistake because she found herself staring at those superbly sculpted lips and remembering the feel of his hair-roughened jaw beneath her fingertips.

‘For once, Charlotte, it’s me wanting to help you.’

Startled, she looked straight into fathomless eyes and felt the tide of longing ripple through her bloodstream.

Yes, please. Can you soothe away this jittery feeling? Maybe with a kiss?

As if that would ever happen. Even if Alessio was attracted, he was obviously grieving for his wife. And he never forgot they were employer and employee.

Yet the way he looked at her with all that lambent heat...

It took a moment to realise he was holding out a card. Gingerly she took it. Embossed in gold were the name and contact details of a world-renowned couturier in Milan.

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