Page 10 of In Bed with Her Billionaire Bodyguard

Luca got up, but Hope gestured for him to sit back down and he waited while she caught up with two people who just beamed in her presence. And while there was still something watchful about her, braced in a way he couldn’t explain, she softened around them in a way that felt more naturallyherthan he’d seen so far.

Hope spent twenty minutes listening to the Conwarys talk about their children and grandchildren. She ate the small bowl of stew that was put there ‘just in case’ she changed her mind and decided she was hungry. She exchanged their hugs with promises to be back soon on the steps of the back entrance to the house as Luca got the car ready and warm. And all the while he couldn’t shake the conviction that she was wearing another mask as she once again slid into the back seat as he held the door open for her without looking at him.

It was about half an hour into the journey. Hope was looking out of the window and said, ‘You can ask, you know.’

‘Pardon, ma’am?’

‘Don’t call me ma’am. It makes me feel old,’ she admitted, her tone softer than the words sounded. ‘Ask. You’ve been wanting to all evening.’

Luca inhaled, torn, knowing he should ask about her meeting with her grandfather, but needing to hear what her cousin had said to her. Either question could blur professional boundaries, but she had offered him the chance to ask of her own free will.

‘What did Simon say to you in the foyer before you left Harcourts this afternoon?’

Hope continued to stare out of her window. It looked as if she might not have heard him. It looked as if she hadn’t spoken. But then... ‘He apologised that the timing of the vote coincided with the anniversary of my parents’ death.’

Luca’s hands white-knuckled around the steering wheel.

She could have lied. She probably should have, because the moment that the words came out of her mouth she felt it again. That thrum of awareness, almost a sense of connection. However it had happened, something had built between her and Luc.

‘I’m sorry.’ The words were gravel thick and forced.

‘For Simon?’ she scoffed bitterly.

‘For your parents.’

Her heart turned, and she resented that. Resented that his words meant so much to her. Hated that just two little words worked to soothe the ache she hid so deep.

Luc knew more about her than James did—her driver of nearly five years. James was cordial, jovial even, but she couldn’t imagine Luc being anything other than... She’d been thinkingcold, ordistant, but that wasn’t quite right. He might be aloof, but beneath was a heat, a driving force that was absent in her normal driver. She’d seen it in the way he’d responded when she’d refused to let him pick her up from the garage earlier that day. She felt it now, shimmering in the air between them as Luc digested what Simon had callously taunted her with. It was anger. For her. An anger she didn’t know what to do with, because it stirred her own already twisting emotions from her grandfather’s words.

And suddenly she didn’t want to go home to an empty apartment, for a few hours’ sleep, before her alarm went off and she started the day all over again. Gym, Elise’s call at six thirty, fighting whatever the press could throw her way again, the vote. Just the thought of it was stifling.

She cleared her throat. ‘Can we take the scenic route back, please?’

‘Scenic?’ he asked, frowning at the nightscape beyond the car.

Her lips pulled into a small wry smile. So much for subtlety... ‘I don’t want to go home just yet. Is there a longer route we can take?’ she clarified.

‘Sì,’he replied. ‘Yes,’ he repeated unnecessarily.

She gazed out at the passing scenery. The roads were clear at this time of night, the sound of the tyres rolling over concrete soothing in its monotony. She’d never learned to drive—not after what had happened to her parents—and it usually took her a long time to become comfortable enough with a driver, but she’d not had that with Luc. From the very beginning she’d felt...safe.

She looked to the rear-view mirror which, from where she sat, showed Luc’s brows and eyes and just a section of that patrician nose. With his focus on the roads, she gave herself free rein to look her fill. Now that it wasn’t hidden behind the sunglasses he wore during the day, she could lose herself in the silvery gaze. The pools of gunmetal grey were arresting, strangely unique and out of place with his Mediterranean colouring and the heavy brow that hung above his eyes made him seem sterner than he was. She should look away, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to. Until she became almost convinced that he knew she was watching him. Heat burned her skin, her breath caught in her chest and her pulse pounded in her throat before she finally wrenched her gaze away.

Personal. That’s what her perusal of him made her feel. As if she were taking something back from the man who already knew too much about her.

‘How long have you been in England?’ Hope asked, attempting to break whatever it was that had thickened the air in the car’s interior.

‘Not long,’ he replied, his monosyllabic answer providing only frustration. Hope needed a distraction; she wanted the mindless conversation to take her thoughts away from the dark. She wanted not to have to think so hard about so much.

‘Is it very different? Driving here than in Italy?’ she tried again, knowing that the questions were asinine.

‘Yes.’

‘Whereabouts in Italy are you from?’

‘The south,’ he replied.

Hope huffed out a little breathy laugh. ‘Luc, are you sure you’re not a spy?’

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