Page 51 of The Housekeeper and the Brooding Billionaire

Hadn’t his great-aunt said as much?

Charlotte had known it, yet having it spelled out made some fragile, barely formed hope sink like a pebble tossed into deep water.

‘But I don’t want to take advantage of you. If you don’t want that, I promise not to touch you again.’

The jut of his clenched jaw and his febrile gaze told her that while Alessio would be as good as his word, it would be difficult for him. Silly how wonderful that made her feel. ‘Or if you prefer to leave now, I’ll write you a glowing reference for the work you’ve already done, and not stand in your way.’

‘So,’ she said slowly, moistening dry lips and feeling heat explode in her pelvis at the way his eyes followed the movement. ‘My choices are hot sex with you for however long this attraction lasts. Maybe a week or—’

‘Months.’ His voice, thick with desire, made her feel more confident. ‘It will take a while to satiate this.’

‘Or I could get up and walk away now and never have you touch me again.’

Appalling how desperate that made her feel. She could no more turn her back on Alessio than she could scale the Matterhorn.

‘Guess which I choose.’ She lost herself in those mesmerising eyes. ‘I want more too. I’ve got a lot to learn, and you’re just the man to teach me.’

The subtle shift in his expression, the flare of aristocratic nostrils and the softening of his taut mouth, told her he wanted this as much as she did.

‘But I have my own plans, and they don’t include being known as a rich man’s mistress.’ She felt him stiffen, his eyes turning unfathomable. ‘My reputation is important to me. I can’t have it damaged by gossip that I’m sleeping with my employer.’ No matter how much she wanted Alessio. ‘Acting as your hostess last night probably already set tongues wagging.’

‘You’re right. I’m sorry.’ Concern furrowed his brow. ‘I’ll do what I can to scotch any rumours. As for our relationship, I’ll take every precaution to keep it private. There’ll be no more dancing together at local fêtes.’

Charlotte felt a pang of loss. How wonderful it would be simply to enjoy this extraordinary attraction. To be carefree, not fretting over what others thought or where this might lead.

But it couldn’t lead anywhere.

She sat straighter. ‘Venice is calling, and I’m not looking for a long-term partner.’

Work had been her salvation and she clung to its security—the only security she’d known since her mother died. Her goal was to run her own upmarket guest house. Working in other people’s hotels wasn’t enough. She wanted to use the hostessing skills she’d learned from her mother to create a warm, intimate atmosphere in her own home that guests would come back for again and again.

‘That makes you different to most women I know.’ He paused, his look searching. ‘Did something bad happen, Charlotte? Something that put you off sex?’

She blinked, stunned at his perspicacity. No one else had picked up on her reserve around intimacy.

No one else knew you were a virgin until last night.Strange how with Alessio, she’d been anything but reserved.

‘Nothing I couldn’t cope with.’ It was only half a lie, but she didn’t want to talk about it. She’d got away with a torn dress and badly shaken nerves. And a mistrust she’d never lost. ‘Other than meeting too many men out for what they can get, who don’t care who they trample in the process.’ She met his arrested stare and hurried on. ‘I didn’t mean—’

‘It’s okay, Charlotte. I understand.’ Another pause as he surveyed her intently. ‘A guest last night recognised you, said he’d met you at a spectacular party in an English mansion. But you weren’t working. You were one of the guests.’

Instinctively Charlotte pulled away, except his strong arm still encircled her. ‘You think I’m some imposter?’

His gaze pinioned her. ‘I simply think there’s a lot more to you than you let on. Last night you fitted in as if you’d attended balls for years. Don’t tell me it’s because you’re used to meeting guests. It was more than that.’

Charlotte’s skin prickled. She had nothing to hide, yet it felt like she’d been caught out in a lie. ‘My parents were wealthy,’ she said eventually, ‘and they liked to entertain. I attended a lot of formal events.’

‘They’re dead? My condolences.’

‘My mother died, but my father’s very much alive.’ She lifted tight shoulders. ‘We’re not in contact.’ Still Alessio regarded her. ‘I don’t want to talk about him.’

‘Okay.’ Alessio pulled her close, and suddenly thoughts of her father and the past fled as she responded to the promise of his virile body. He planted his palm on her thigh and heat drenched her, moisture blooming at her feminine core. ‘I’m sure we can find other things to discuss.’

Instantly unhappy memories were replaced by urgent physical need. Charlotte embraced it eagerly. Never had she known anything so perfect as being with Alessio.

In some distant part of her mind, a warning clanged, but then Alessio’s hand slid under her dress to inch up her thigh, and caution died as bliss beckoned.

CHAPTER TWELVE

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