Page 23 of The Housekeeper and the Brooding Billionaire

But an obstinate part of him refused to be ruled by caution. He couldn’t have Charlotte in the way he craved, not only because he was her boss, but for so many reasons, including that he had just enough decency left not to want to taint her with his darkness.

Yet how he wanted...

Surely he could havethisat least? The sound of his name on her lips. Not combined with the formality of a title, but said simply the way a woman would speak to a man? As if they were equals. Or lovers. As if they connected.

In the world’s eyes, they weren’t equals because he paid her wage. To some, his inherited title and wealth put him above her. But Alessio knew the truth. Such things didn’t matter against the true soul of a man. As his soul was lost, he felt no superiority.

In fact, having her interact with him as an equal would be the closest he was likely to come to a blessing. She occupied a world he merely viewed from the outside. A bright, wholesome place he no longer felt he knew.

‘Conte Alessio? Is everything all right?’

Charlotte moved closer, and he caught a drift of cinnamon and vanilla. She even smelled wholesome, though she attracted him like the most flagrant seductress.

Had years of solitude warped his perception? No. This woman with her unexpected combination of practicality, determination and sensuality drew him at a visceral level.

‘Everything is fine. I was considering your comment. Shall we walk?’ He glanced at the open door to the bakery and was glad when she fell into step. ‘The fact is, Charlotte, I’m not used to sharing my home with strangers. We’re a close-knit community here, even more so since my wife died.’

He paused, stunned. It was the first time he’d willingly mentioned the traumatic event that had so changed him. Even more surprising was the absence of crucifying pain that always accompanied that memory.

‘I’m so sorry for your loss.’

Bright eyes met his, but Alessio saw only regret there, not prurient curiosity. More and more this woman seemed exactly what she appeared, hardworking, decent, capable and, he suspected, warm-hearted.

All the more reason to leave her alone.

As if! He might have enough shreds of decency not to pursue her. But he needed something for himself. Just a taste now and then of her generous warmth, even at a distance.

How the mighty had fallen! He’d once had the world, and any woman he wanted, at his feet. How shallow that seemed now.

‘Thank you. Thecastellomay be grand, and it’s also my workplace, but above all it’s my home, the place where I unwind.’ In theory, at least. In reality, most of the time he felt wound too tight. ‘It took a long time to convince Anna and the others on the island not to use my title, at least when we’re alone. I would...appreciate it if you’d do the same. You’ll be living here for several months, and it will be more comfortable for both of us.’

He slanted her a sideways look as they approached thecastello.Her knotted brow warned she had misgivings, but she nodded. ‘If that’s how everyone here addresses you, then of course I will.’

‘Excellent.’ He held the door open for her. ‘I have a little time before my first online meeting. I suggest we share those pastries with coffee while you update me on yesterday’s chapel visit.’

He should have known better, he reflected as he leaned back in his chair, savouring his second coffee. He’d only permitted the visitors because Charlotte had prodded and queried and he’d wanted, for reasons he refused to identify, not to disappoint her.

He should have followed his instinct for privacy rather than pander to a woman. Yet even now he found himself warmed by the enthusiasm in her bright eyes.

‘Let me get this clear. He not only wants to bring another party of visitors to the chapel, but you want to make an event of it?’

‘Not a big event,’ she hastened to assure him, placing a sugar-drenched pastry on his plate. This woman had all Anna’s determination and even more wiles.

Dangerous, murmured a voice in his head.

Delectable.

Alessio grabbed the pastry and bit deep into buttery, sugared layers. He’d be twice his usual body weight and suffering from tooth decay if he kept using food as a distraction from Charlotte Symonds. ‘Go on.’

‘It would still be a small group, no more than a dozen. But they’d stay for an hour or so extra. The first group got into conversation with the glaziers removing the window. Did you know that as well as repairing old glass, they make stained-glass lamps and windows of their own design?’ She met his eyes and smiled crookedly. ‘Sorry, of course you do. But the point is, the visitors were fascinated and eager to buy.’

‘So this is to be a buying trip? I don’t see the value if it’s just a dozen people.’

‘A dozen influential people, all interested in fine art, some working in galleries. And it’s not only the glass. When they heard about the gold-and silversmiths, the woodcarvers, jewellers and—’

‘Enough.’ Alessio raised his hand. ‘I get the idea.’

Charlotte tilted her head as if doubting. ‘I know one visit won’t solve everyone’s difficulties, but from what I hear, it’s been tough for some of the artisans. Given the economic troubles recently, there have been fewer commissions.’

---