‘Susan?’ she said, as soon as her foster mother answered.
‘Katie? Is that you?’
‘Yes, how are you? Are you okay?’
‘Where are you?’
‘You’re really okay?’
‘Is it true?’
Katie half smiled as she realised they were simply firing questions at each other, with neither stopping to answer. She took a breath and slowed down. ‘That I’ve married Alessandro Zetticci? Yes. That’s true.’
‘I had no idea you’d even seen him since...’ Susan drew in an audible breath. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’
Katie bit her lip. ‘I thought you’d disapprove—’
‘Of Alessandro? Is that why you ran away?’ Susan sighed. ‘I would have talked to Brian. We could have had a lovely ceremony in the gardens...’
Katie slid lower into her seat as relief eased her tension. Susan must be okay if she was able to focus on her precious gardens. She glanced across to Alessandro—clearly he could hear, because her own amusement was mirrored in his eyes.
‘I guess we could have...’ Katie murmured. ‘I’m sorry—’
‘Are you happy, Katie?’ Susan interrupted.
Katie froze, thrown by her foster mother’s serious tone. She’d thought she was happy enough at home. She’d been grateful for what she had, and she’d not let herself wish for anything more. She’d focused on caring for Susan, on making her sauces, and on the few occasions she’d stopped to think she had hoped that she’d have more eventually. She’d been coping.
But, no, she hadn’t been entirely happy. She’d felt constrained by Brian. Following his rules, never feeling good enough, always wary that he would pull the rug from beneath her. As he had when he’d ordered her to marry Carl.
But now she’d had the smallest glimpse of the world beyond White Oaks. Alessandro had done more than enable her—he’d shown her. In the few hours she’d been with him she’d done more, seen more, than she had in years. Truthfully, in all her life.
‘Katie?’ Susan asked her again. ‘Are you happy?’
Right this second?
She couldn’t look away from the warmth in Alessandro’s brilliant blue eyes. Couldn’t halt the bubbling sensation in her chest. She could barely answer, but nor could she lie.
‘Yes.’
The atmosphere turned electric as the warmth in his eyes was replaced by an indefinable intensity.
Katie swallowed the sudden tightness in her throat and strove to speak. ‘I’ll be home in a few days. I’ll come and see you right away.’ Those bubbles fizzed as Alessandro steadily kept watching her. ‘Okay?’
‘Lovely, darling. I look forward to seeing you both.’
Katie ended the call and handed the phone back to Alessandro, wary of what he might say. More than wary of what he made her feel.
Another flame of guilt licked at her heart. Poor Alessandro. In the last twenty-four hours she’d been demanding and difficult and at times almost rude. But she’d never released her rebellious antagonism towards anyone before. It was almost a fire in her blood, pushing her to defy him. To provoke him. She had to settle it somehow.
‘Thank you so much for everything,’ she said softly.
‘I don’t want your gratitude,’ he snapped. ‘That’s the last thing I want from you.’
She was transfixed by the blaze in his eyes—not mere warmth, it was blistering. The air thickened, trapping his fierce words between them. One word.
Want.
Her forbidden giveaway reply whispered out. ‘What do you want from me?’
Heat rose in her cheeks as her mind raced with every intimate possibility her inexperienced self could think of. Her heart skipped, and then skidded to a sprint that left breathing impossible.
But Alessandro slowly shook his head. ‘No,’ he said harshly, his gaze not lifting from hers. ‘You’re not transferring your need to people-please to me.’
Katie flinched, because she’d been strung out waiting for his reply. For those few moments she’d been willing to let him do anything he wanted. And that was mortifying. Because he didn’t want her. Not really. He had been playing with her on the plane, because she was inexperienced and it was mildly entertaining for him.
‘Sex is always a game.’
The worst thing was that he knew what she’d been thinking. He could read her mind as easily as a front-page headline.
He suddenly pushed back from the table and stood in a jerky moment. ‘You owe me nothing—understand?’
CHAPTER EIGHT
ALESSANDRO STALKED TO the kitchen and tossed their plates into the dishwasher. He’d insisted he didn’t want her help because he needed ten minutes alone to get himself together.
Except the kitchen was now tainted with echoes of her scent and sound and the sight of her at that bench.
She’d relaxed in here, swiftly preparing dinner with skill, her smile small and private while she focused intently on her task.
He’d been almost unable to do anything other than stare at her. He’d been staring at her pretty much all afternoon. He was still recovering from the bronze bikini that had brought out the amber lights in her eyes.
Those three guys by the pool had liked it too. She hadn’t appeared to notice them, but Alessandro sure as hell had seen them eating her with their eyes. Protective—possessive—he’d pointedly wrapped his arm around her, leaving them in no doubt she was taken.
His jealousy, his loss of control over his own body, horrified him. She made him feel as if he’d been starved of sex for centuries. Which he hadn’t. Yet he was struggling to control the urge to touch her. His desire burned hotter than an exploding supernova.
Her hair was no longer in that low ponytail, but hung loose and shining after her trip to the salon earlier today. He was glad she hadn’t cut much of the length. It gleamed a gorgeous brown, flecked with strands of gold—a myriad of colours to match her eyes.
The dress she’d chosen was bolder than he’d expected—a bright splash of summer colour with a fit that emphasised her narrow waist. He wanted to rip the pretty thing off her like some lust-crazed monster. The longer he was around her, the stronger that wildness within him grew. But it wasn’t her new haircut or the clothing that had made the difference. It was her blossoming confidence, that lick of awareness, the anticipation in her eyes.
The memory of her response.
Kissing her had been a massive mistake. He’d discovered too much that was tempting—her sweetness, her heat, her innate passion. And he didn’t think he could resist it. He who could walk away from anything—anyone—had had to run from her.
She’d infected him—injected a fever into his veins. Now the fever was spreading and all he wanted was more. All he could think about was her.
He left the kitchen and walked along the terrace, stopping at the balustrade overlooking the pool. He didn’t notice the view, or the scent of the summer flowers, or the warmth of the evening air. He was too busy stopping himself from going to find her.
He was deluding himself that he’d just talk to her—talking to her was oddly easy. But that set another alarm off. He didn’t talk to his lovers. He gave pleasure. Took pleasure. And then left.
But he’d had to bite back talking more about Naomi and his father. Of all things that was the one he never discussed with anyone, and yet he’d been so close to telling Katie every silly little thing—even his personal history with this island too...
But he needed to maintain t
he distance between them because soon enough they’d separate.
He gripped the railing with both hands. He shouldn’t have brought her here. It was his private space. But he’d thought he’d be able to prepare her for the charade they were to play for the next few months here—get her over the wobbles. Instead he was the one on edge, struggling for self-control, almost consumed by temptation when he knew he shouldn’t take advantage of her.
But she’s using you.
She wanted his help, his money, his power...for protection. For him to seduce her in return would be too much of a personal price for her to pay, even if she was willing. And if he were any kind of a decent human being he wouldn’t even consider it.
But she wants you too.
She hadn’t just responded when he’d kissed her—she’d ignited. Sure, there had been some gratitude mixed up in it, but there had been raw, red-hot desire for him there too. He was experienced enough to know that. What was more, the carnal curiosity in her eyes brightened with every interaction they had.
And it was killing him—death by temptation. Maybe they could indulge just a little...?
He twisted his lips at that devil inside, tearing him apart, and at his confusion. Why did she captivate him so completely? He’d had plenty of women—all more classically beautiful, more successful, certainly more experienced...
He glared into the blue water. Her virginity wasn’t what aroused him... That appallingly inconvenient little fact was the complication that made having her impossible.
Gritting his teeth, he gripped the railing so tight his knuckles turned white.
‘Alessandro?’
He turned towards her voice. She warily walked nearer, watching him the way a zoo-keeper might watch a pacing barely caged tiger.
‘Mmm?’ He tightened his grip to stop himself grabbing her.
‘Are you okay?’
‘No,’ he muttered bluntly, unable to lie because he was tired and too tightly wired to hold back—at least verbally. ‘Not okay.’
He’d never struggled with his self-control before.
He’d never wanted one woman with this intensity before.
‘Anything I can do?’