The Uncompromising Italian

On every level, he was just the sort of man she usually wouldn’t have gone near and, had he seen her passing on the street, she certainly would not have been the sort of woman he would have noticed. She would literally have been invisible to him because she just wasn’t his type.

Fate had thrown them together and an attraction had built between them but she knew that she would be a complete fool not to recognise that that attraction was grounded in novelty.

‘How the hell could that have happened?’ Alessio said, his voice dark with barely contained anger. ‘This is the last thing I need right now.’

Lesley got that. He had found himself tricked into marriage by a pregnancy he had not courted once upon a time and his entire adult life had been affected. Of course he would not want to repeat that situation.

Yet, she couldn’t help but feel the sting of hurt at the simmering anger in his voice.

‘It won’t happen,’ she said stiffly. She wriggled into a sitting position and watched as he vaulted upright and began searching around for his boxers, having disposed of the faulty condom.

‘And you know that because?’

‘It’s the wrong time of month for that to happen.’ She surreptitiously crossed her fingers and tried to calculate when she had last had her period. ‘And, rest assured, the last thing I would want would be to end up pregnant, Alessio. As it stands, this was a very bad idea.’

In the process of locating a tee-shirt from a chest of drawers, he paused and strolled back to the bed. The condom had split and there was nothing he could do about that now. He could only hope that she was right, that they were safe.

But, that aside, how could she say that making love had been a very bad idea? He was oddly affronted.

‘You know what. This. Us. Ending up in bed together. It shouldn’t have happened.’

‘Why not? We’re attracted to one another. How could it have been a bad idea? I was under the impression that you had actually enjoyed the experience.’ He looked down at her and felt his libido begin to rise once again.

‘That’s not the point.’ She swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood up, conscious of her nudity, gritting her teeth against the temptation to drag the covers off the bed and shield herself from him.

‘God, you’re beautiful.’

Lesley flushed and looked away, stubbornly proud, and refusing to believe that he meant a word of that. Novelty was a beautiful thing but became boring very quickly.

‘Well?’ He caught her wrist and tilted her face so that she had no option but to look at him.

‘Well what?’ Lesley muttered, lowering her eyes.

‘Well, let’s go back to bed.’

‘Didn’t you hear a word I just said?’

‘Every word.’ He kissed her delicately on the corner of her mouth and then very gently on her lips.

In a heartbeat, and to her disgust, Lesley could feel her determination begin to melt away.

‘You’re not my type,’ she mumbled, refusing to cave in, but his lips were so soft against her jaw that her disobedient body was responding in all sorts of stupidly predictable ways.

‘Because I’m a caveman?’

‘Yes!’ Her hands crept up to his neck and she protested feebly as he lifted her off her feet and back towards the bed to which she had only minutes previously sworn not to return.

‘So, what are you looking for in a man?’ Alessio murmured.

This time, he drew the covers over them. It was very dark outside. Even with the curtains open, the night was black velvet with only a slither of moon penetrating the darkness and weakly illuminating the bedroom.

He could feel her reluctance, her mind fighting her body, and it felt imperative that her body win the battle because he wanted her, more than he had ever wanted any woman in his life before.

‘Not someone like you, Alessio,’ Lesley whispered, pressing her hands flat against his chest and feeling the steady beat of his heart.

‘Why? Why not someone like me?’

‘Because...’ Because safety was not with a man who looked like him, a man who could have anyone he wanted. She knew her limits. She knew that she was just not the sort of girl who drew guys to her like a magnet. She never had been. She just didn’t have the confidence; had never had the right preparation; had never had a mother’s guiding hand to show her the way to all those little feminine wiles that went into the mix of attraction between the sexes.

But bigger than her fear of involvement with him was her fear of not getting involved, not taking the chance.

‘You’re just not the sort of person I ever imagined having any kind of relationship with, that’s all.’

‘We’re not talking marriage here, Lesley, we’re talking about enjoying each other.’ He propped himself up on one elbow and traced his finger along her arm. ‘I’m not looking for commitment any more than you probably are.’

And certainly not with someone like you; Lesley reluctantly filled in the remainder of that remark.

‘And you still haven’t told me the sort of man you would call “your type”.’ She was warm and yielding in his arms. She might make a lot of noises about this being a mistake, but she wanted him as much as he wanted her, and he knew that if he slipped his fingers into her he would feel the tell-tale proof of her arousal.

He could have her right here and right now, despite whatever she said about him not being her type. And who, in the end, cared whether he was her type or not? Hadn’t he just told her that this wasn’t about commitment and marriage? In other words, did it really matter if he wasn’t her type?

But he was piqued at the remark. She was forthright and spoke her mind; he had become accustomed to that very quickly. But surely what she had said amounted to an unacceptable lack of tact! He thought that there was nothing wrong in asking her to explain exactly what she had meant.

His voice had dropped a few shades.

‘You’re offended, aren’t you?’ Lesley asked and Alessio was quick to deny any such thing.

Lesley could have kicked herself for asking him that question. Of course he wouldn’t be offended! To be offended, he would actually have had to care about her and that was not the case here, as he had made patently clear.

‘That’s a relief!’ she exclaimed lightly. ‘My type? I guess thoughtful, caring, sensitive; someone who believes in the same things that I do, who has similar interests...maybe even someone working in the same field. You know—artistic, creative, not really bothered about the whole business of making money.’

Alessio bared his teeth in a smile. ‘Sounds a lot of fun. Sure someone like that would be able to keep up with you? No, scrap that—too much talk. There are better things to do and, now that we’ve established that you can’t resist me even though I’m the last kind of person you would want in your life, let’s make love.’

‘Alessio...’

He stifled any further protest with a long, lingering kiss that released in her a sigh of pure resignation. So this made no sense, so she was a complete idiot... Where had the practical, level-headed girl with no illusions about herself gone? All she seemed capable of doing was giving in.

‘And,’ he murmured into her ear. ‘In case you think that Italy is off the agenda because I’m not a touchy-feely art director for a design company, forget it. I still want you there by my side. Trust me, I will make it worth your while.’

CHAPTER SEVEN

EVERYTHING SEEMED TO HAPPEN at the speed of light after that. Of course, there was no inconvenient hanging around for affordable flights or having to surf the Internet for places to stay. None of the usual headaches dogged Alessio’s spur-of-the-moment decision to take Lesley to Italy.

Two days after he had extended his invitation, they were boarding a plane to Italy.

It was going to be a surprise visit. Armed with information, they were going to get the full story from his daughter, lay all the cards on the table and then, when they were back in the UK, Alessio would sort the other half of the equation out. He would pay an informal visit to his emailing friend and he was sure that they would reach a happy conclusion where no money changed hands.

Lessons, he had assured her, would regrettably have to be learnt.

Lesley privately wondered what his approach to his daughter would be. Would similar lessons also ‘regrettably have to be learnt’? How harsh would those lessons be? He barely had a relationship with Rachel and she privately wondered how he intended ever to build on it if he went in to ‘sort things out’ with the diplomacy of a bull in a china shop.

That was one of the reasons she had agreed to go to Italy with him.

Without saying it in so many words, she knew that he was looking to her for some sort of invisible moral back-up, even though he had stated quite clearly that he needed her there primarily to impart the technicalities of what she had discovered should the situation demand it.

‘You haven’t said anything for the past half an hour.’ Alessio interrupted her train of thought as they were shown into the first class cabin of the plane. ‘Why?’

Lesley bristled. ‘I was just thinking how fast everything’s moved,’ she said as they were shown to seats as big as armchairs and invited to have a glass of champagne, which she refused.