Page 54 of The Housekeeper and the Brooding Billionaire

She leaned across and pressed her lips to his, savouring his welcoming kiss, knowing this was a short-term privilege that would end all too soon.

When she pulled away, she avoided his eyes. ‘If you don’t mind, I won’t join you for breakfast. I have to meet some suppliers.’

She was out of the bed before he could answer, hurrying towards the bathroom.

Which meant she didn’t see Alessio’s assessing look.

Charlotte had been like a cat on hot bricks all day.

Whenever Alessio tracked her down, it was to discover her bustling off to some new task. At first he’d thought she was disturbed by the continued speculation about her in the media. The world seemed fascinated by his mysterious, glamorous hostess. When he’d mentioned that, she’d shrugged it off. Yet it felt like she avoided him, always with a good excuse.

Alessio was edgy. Something had happened this morning. Something that felt like an invisible wedge driven between them. He’d seen and felt her withdrawal even as he held her in his arms.

It had been...disquieting.

Even if his saner self said that was a good thing. Better that Charlotte didn’t grow comfortable in this relationship.

Because it had to end.

Strangely, instead of bringing relief, the thought made Alessio’s gut spasm.

As if he didn’t like the idea of Charlotte leaving.

He wasn’t ready for her to withdraw, much less leave. The suspicion thatshe’dhave no regrets about going unsettled him.

Which was why midafternoon found him searching for her, only to pull up short, his heart beating a sickening rhythm when he discovered where she was.

Alessio stopped in the doorway of the sunny room, stiff fingers clutching the doorjamb, stomach churning.

‘Alessio!’

She put down a duster and smiled. But only for an instant because then he saw it again—her withdrawal—as if she put up an invisible barrier.

Something sour exploded on his tongue. Disappointment? Loss?

‘What are you doing in here?’ Her eyes widened at his brusque tone, and he tried to temper it. ‘There’s no need to clean here. The room’s not used.’

The empty nursery mocked him. He hadn’t been here in three years. The sight of it unleashed regret and pain.

He watched Charlotte’s gaze travel from the picture books that had never been read to the pristine cot and the rocking chair where he’d last seen Antonia, curled up in a ball of misery.

He drew a shuddering breath, fighting memories.

‘I’m sorry, Alessio.’ Charlotte approached him, regret and understanding in her eyes as she reached for him. ‘This must be hard for you. I—’

He jerked his arm away. ‘You think I need your sympathy?’ His voice was sharp like the brittle darkness inside him. It was easier to lash out than let himself think. ‘You presume too much!’

He stepped back, dropping his arm from the doorjamb, but the miasma followed, clouding his thoughts and tainting the air. When it cleared, Alessio saw she’d paled, her body rigid.

The churning in his belly intensified, but this time with self-disgust. ‘Charlotte...’ He crossed the threshold, but she recoiled and he slammed to a stop.

It wasn’t just shock in her eyes—it was hurt. He’d wounded her because she’d glimpsed his pain and regret. And because, after the happiness they’d shared, the sudden bleak memories felt overwhelming.

What did that make him? When had he become a man who’d hurt someone whose only crime was to care? Not just anybody, but his lover. A woman who brought him pleasure and a measure of peace and joy he’d never expected to experience again.

His heart slammed against his ribs and shame thickened his throat. ‘I’m sorry, Charlotte. You didn’t deserve that.’ Still she stood, unmoving and wary. Alessio almost wished she’d berate him. Her silent appraisal scoured him to the bone. ‘I’ve hurt you, and I’d do anything I could to undo that.’

He drew a breath and found himself saying something totally unexpected. ‘Can we go somewhere and talk about it?’

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