The Mysterious Italian Houseguest

She wanted to press. She really wanted to press. But her stomach gave an uncomfortable twist—almost as if it were acting as her conscience. It just felt...wrong.

‘What about your agent?’

That caught his attention. He looked back at her again. ‘What do you mean?’

She lifted her hands. ‘On one hand, they’re working well for you. You’ve had good roles.’ She smiled. ‘Or almost good roles, in back-to-back films. Isn’t an actor’s greatest fear not working?’

He nodded.

Just like mine, she thought.

‘But, if your agent is involved in playing games with you—manipulating you—is that really what you want?’

Javier blew out a long slow breath between his lips.

She saw it as opportunity to continue. ‘You said they wouldn’t be happy about you having a break. Maybe not. You’re probably the person they make the most money from. But, on the other hand, if you’re their most bankable star, shouldn’t they be looking after you more instead of less?’

He let out a gentle laugh and leaned across the table, his hand covering hers. The warmth shot up her arm like an electric shock. Someone at the next table was pointing at them, obviously recognising who Javier was. ‘Portia Marlowe,’ he whispered, ‘you ask all the right questions.’ He gave her arm a tug and pulled her up, throwing some money down on the table with the other. He was still smiling. She saw someone lift their phone at her side. Javier’s hand was still holding hers, the other had casually snaked around her back, pulling her hip against him. His face was only a few inches above hers and he was grinning at her. ‘But I like it. You’re making me think. And that’s exactly what I’m here to do.’

He glanced at the road between the restaurant and the port. ‘Come on, it’s a beautiful night. Let’s walk a little.’

He didn’t wait for her reply, just kept her hand in his as he led her out of the restaurant.

It was as if something had changed in the air between them. That physical contact was doing weird things to her brain. He’d taken her hand so easily, so casually, but should he really be holding it? All she knew was there was no way she was tugging it back.

As they walked along the port she noticed a few curious glances in their direction. Her heart skipped a few beats. Javier pointed out a few familiar places from his childhood. He seemed more at ease here, more relaxed. He nodded at the few people who said hello. Portia was trying her absolute best to be as casual as possible even though she felt as if there were a huge red arrow above her pointing to their entwined hands.

The breeze was warm, joined by the laughter of those drifting out from the nearby bars and cafés. The horrible tense knots that had been in her shoulders since she’d got here slowly started to unknot. L’Isola dei Fiori had a peaceful feeling around it. She hadn’t really noticed it as a child.

When she was a child it had been a place of wonder and amusement.

Now she was an adult it was different. It was the first time in a long time that Portia had walked down a street where everyone didn’t have a phone pressed to their ear. People were actually looking at each other, and talking to each other. In LA that was practically unheard of.

Javier was easy to talk to. He asked more questions about her family and her father’s aviation business. He wanted to know where she’d gone to university and where her favourite holiday resort was. But as soon as he started to ask about work, she felt herself prickle.

‘You were the one that broke the Jake and Meg affair, weren’t you?’

She nodded. That particular story had been one of the biggest scandals in Hollywood a few years ago. Two of the biggest ‘happily married’ stars who’d had an affair together on set on their latest movie. Both of them were regularly talking in the media about how much they loved their partners, constantly talking about family values. The reality of their lives had been a little different and most of the world didn’t believe it when the story first broke.

It was yet another nail in the coffin for love in Hollywood. It seemed that it just didn’t exist out there.

‘How did you find out, anyway?’ His hand was still holding hers and as they walked he’d shifted his thumb so it was tracing little circles in the palm of her hand.

She gave a shrug. ‘Would you believe a mistaken text message? It seems that Meg Malone and I had mobile phone numbers with two digits interchanged.’

His eyes widened. ‘Do I want to know what the message said?’

She smiled and gave a shudder. ‘Oh, no, absolutely not. The only reason I figured out who it was, was because they mentioned being interviewed together on a talk show that night. I did a little digging after that and...’ She held up her hands.

He gave his head a shake. ‘Well, I didn’t know anything about it. I was just as surprised as everyone else.’

Portia let out a long slow breath as they kept walking. They’d reached the outskirts of the town and the villa wasn’t too far away. ‘I got offered the job at Entertainment Buzz TV permanently after that.’ Her chest constricted. The thought of going back to LA in a few weeks with no story made her feel sick.

Her job would be no more.

What would she do next? Where could she find work?

That tiny little voice was rattling around her head. Push Javier. Dig deep. See what you can find out.

But the thumb making circles in the palm of her hand was stopping all rational thoughts.

She’d spent the last five years not being fazed by film stars, then, she’d arrived in L’Isola dei Fiori, spent one minute in Javier’s company and felt like a star-struck teenager all over again. And that feeling wasn’t really going away.

But part of her brain wasn’t thinking about Javier the film star any more. It didn’t matter that he could be the ticket to keeping her job.

Javier, the teenager that worked with his Uncle Vinnie, the young boy with the sometimes sick mother, was revealing a little more about himself every time they spoke.

He only let go of her hand when they finally reached the villa and slid the key in the lock. She couldn’t help it, her feet led her automatically back outside, through the conservatory and out onto the terrace. The pinks and blues of the sky had vanished, leaving a navy dark sky dotted with little twinkling stars. The breeze here amazed her. Any time before she’d been on the coast the sea winds had always been fierce, no matter how mild the weather. But the breeze here was warm and welcoming, moving through the surrounding gardens with a mere rustle. The white sand in the cove gleamed beneath her, shadowed only by Neptune’s arch. It really was the perfect place.

With the perfect person.

She heard his footsteps and felt his presence just behind her.

‘Why are you so tense?’ the voice whispered in her ear.

She stopped looking out over the horizon and closed her eyes for a second. She’d been tense since the first second she’d arrived here, first of all worried her sisters would figure out something was wrong, then, secondly, worrying about sharing a house with a Hollywood superstar.

She couldn’t help the fact that the tension and anxieties in her head automatically translated th

eir way into her body. She hated feeling like this, she really did.

She gave a little gasp as two firm hands found their way onto her shoulders. The fingers started moving straight away, finding the tiny knots around her neck and shoulder blades. She wanted to tell him to stop, but she could feel his warm breath at her neck and sense the presence of his body inches behind hers.

She moved her head from side to side as he continued. ‘My goodness. What have you been doing? You’re coiled tighter than a spring.’ His soft Italian voice was like a soothing balm.

As he kept working his fingers she could visualise the picture from this morning, the bare chest and shoulders, the chiselled abs and dark hair. Then again from tonight, the twinkle in his grey eyes, his tanned skin and white smile. She moved without even thinking, leaning her body against his.

This time it was Javier that gave an intake of breath. His hands moved from her shoulders, one resting at the side of her waist. He rested his head just above one shoulder, taking his other hand and tracing one finger from the nape of her neck, painstakingly slowly across the top of her shoulder and down the length of her whole arm.

It was like a million little butterflies beating their wings against her skin. For a second she couldn’t breathe. Then his fingers intertwined with hers and wrapped in front of her, resting next to her stomach.

His voice was low. ‘I think that Villa Rosa has a little magic in it. Healing powers. It’s a place to relax. To enjoy.’

She nodded, enjoying feeling his skin against hers. She couldn’t pretend that her tension was gone. It had just been replaced with a whole other kind of tension.