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Princes Waitress

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‘That sounds exciting. And guaranteed to put on extra pounds just when I don’t need them.’


Casper gave a predatory smile. ‘Since we’ve already established the positive impact of biscuits on a certain part of your anatomy, I think we can safely assume that I’m not going to find you sexually repulsive any time soon.’


‘I didn’t say you were.’


‘But you were thinking it.’ He sat down opposite her and helped himself to fresh fruit. ‘Eventually I’m hoping you’ll realise that you have a fabulous body. Then we can make love with the lights on. Or even during daylight.’


She blushed, as self-conscious about his suggestion that they make love in daylight as she was flattered by his comments about her body. ‘You’re not around during the day.’


‘The promise of you naked would be sufficient incentive to persuade me to ditch my responsibilities.’


‘All you think about is sex. I don’t know whether to be flattered or exasperated.’


‘You should be flattered. I’m a man. I’m programmed to think about nothing but sex.’ Apparently seeing nothing wrong in that admission, he reached across and lifted the coffee pot. ‘More?’


Holly pulled a face and shook her head. ‘I’ve gone off it. Don’t ask me why. Something to do with being pregnant, I think.’


Without arguing, he poured her a fresh orange-juice instead. ‘And now I want to know why you assumed I was spending part of the night with another woman.’


Her insides tumbled. ‘Well—it just seemed like the obvious answer.’


‘To what question?’


‘To where you go at three in the morning. Up until today, you’ve never woken up next to me. We have sex. You leave. That’s the routine.’


‘That doesn’t explain why you’d believe I was seeing another woman.’


‘You’re a man.’ She mimicked his tone, hoping that her attempt at humour would conceal the fact that she was absolutely terrified of his answer. ‘And that’s what men are programmed to do.’


‘I get up at three in the morning because I’m aware that you need some sleep,’ he said softly. ‘And if I’m in bed with you I don’t seem to have any self-control.’


Stunned by that unexpected confession, Holly felt her insides flip. ‘But by the time you leave the bed we’ve already—’ Her cheeks heated. ‘I mean surely even you couldn’t?’


‘I definitely could,’ he assured her silkily. ‘It seems where you’re concerned, I have a limitless appetite. So you see, tesoro, you don’t have to worry about the effects of daylight, biscuits, or anything else for that matter. I’m so addicted to your body I even find you sexy in a cartoon tee-shirt—not that I’d ever allow you to wear one of those again,’ he went on, clearly concerned she might decide to put that claim to the test.


Basking in the novel experience of being considered irresistible, Holly sipped her orange juice. He didn’t reveal anything about his own emotions and they didn’t talk about their problems, but they seemed to have reached some sort of truce. ‘So where do you go when you leave our bed?’


‘I work. Usually in the study.’


Holly gave a disbelieving laugh because that altogether more simple explanation hadn’t occurred to her. ‘I just assumed—The thing is, I’ve been so worried.’ Weak with relief, she confessed, ‘I mean, I know you had loads of relationships before me.’


‘I sense this is turning into one of those female questions where every answer is always going to be the wrong one,’ he drawled and she bit her lip.


‘But—were you with someone when we met at the rugby?’


‘Technically, no.’


‘What’s that supposed to mean? I read about a supermodel—’


‘You don’t want to believe everything you read.’


‘But—’


His tone was impatient. ‘What can you possibly gain from this line of questioning?’


Reassurance? She gave a painful laugh as she realised the foolishness of that. Reassurance about what—that he loved her? He didn’t. She knew he didn’t. ‘I was just—interested.’


‘You were just being a woman. Forget it.’ He rose to his feet. ‘Remember that the past is always behind you. Are you ready?’


‘For what?’ She decided that this wasn’t the right time to point out that the past wasn’t behind him, even if he believed that it was. It was obvious to her that it was with him every agonising minute of the day. ‘Where are we going?’


His gaze lingered on her face. ‘To spend some time together. Isn’t that what you wanted? You said that I don’t spend any time with you during the day,’ he reminded her softly. ‘And that we’ve never actually been on a date. So we’re going to rectify that.’


‘We’re going on a date?’ Holly couldn’t stop the smile. ‘Where?’


‘The most romantic city in the world. Rome.’


CHAPTER SEVEN


‘THIS is your idea of a date? When you said we were visiting romantic Rome, I imagined wandering hand in hand to the Spanish Steps and the Colosseum. Not sitting in a rugby stadium,’ Holly muttered, taking her seat and waving enthusiastically to the very vocal crowd.


Casper gave her a rare smile. ‘You wanted to be alone with me. We’re alone.’


‘This is your idea of alone?’ Holly glanced at the security team surrounding them, and then at the enormous crowd who were cheering as the players jogged onto the pitch. ‘Are you delusional?’


‘Stadio Flaminio is a small stadium—intimate.’


Holly started to laugh. ‘I suppose everything is relative. It’s small compared with Twickenham. This time we’re only in the company of thirty thousand people. But is this really your idea of romantic? A rugby match?’


‘We met during a rugby match,’ Casper reminded her, and their eyes clashed as both of them remembered the sheer breathless intensity of that meeting. ‘I am mixing my two passions. Rugby and you.’


He didn’t actually mean her, did he? He meant her body.


‘I—I’ve never actually watched a game before,’ Holly confessed shakily, dragging her eyes from his and wondering what it was about him that reduced her to jelly. ‘I was always working. I don’t even know the rules.’


‘One team has to score more points than the other,’ Casper said dryly, leaning forward as the game started, his gaze intent on the pitch.


‘By all piling on top of each other?’ Holly winced as she watched the players throw themselves into the game with no apparent care for their own safety. ‘It’s all very macho, isn’t it? Lots of mud, blood and muscle.’


‘They’re following strict rules. Watch. You might find it exciting.’


And she did.


At first she sat in silence, determined not to ruin his enjoyment by asking inane questions, and equally determined to try and understand what he loved about the game. But, far from ignoring her, he seemed keen to involve her in everything that was going on.


There was a sudden roar from the crowd as a man powered down the field with the ball.


‘He’s fast,’ Holly breathed, and Casper’s shoulders tensed and then he punched the air.



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