The Italian's Christmas Housekeeper

He narrowed his eyes. Was her blithe comment about knowing nothing of his past just another of the lies which slipped so easily from women’s lips? ‘What makes you ask that?’

She hesitated. ‘I’m not sure. Maybe the note of finality in your voice. The look of...’

‘Of what, Molly?’ he demanded. ‘And please don’t just give me the polite answer you think I ought to hear.’

She met his eyes, surprised at his perception because she had been about to do exactly that. ‘Bitterness, I guess,’ she said. ‘Or maybe disappointment.’

He wanted to deny her accusations—if that was what they were—but he couldn’t. And suddenly he found himself resenting her astuteness and that gentle look of understanding which had softened her face. He’d agreed to tell her the basics—not for her to start peeling back the layers so that she could get a closer look at his damned soul. So why did he continue with his story, as if now he’d lifted the lid on it, he found it impossible to put it back?

‘I’ll tell you what happened,’ he said roughly, becoming aware of the heavy beat of his pulse at his temple. ‘My life was a fairy tale. It wasn’t just the success, or the money—and the chance to do good stuff with all that money—it was the fact that I loved playing football. It was the only thing I ever wanted to do. And then one day I was brought down by an ugly tackle and tore my cruciate ligament. Badly.’ His mouth twisted. ‘And that was the end of the fairy tale. I never played again.’

Silence followed his stark statement and then she spoke in that soft voice. ‘Oh, Salvio, that must have—’

‘Please. Spare me the platitudes,’ he ground out, hardening his heart to the distress which had made her eyes grow as dark as storm clouds—because he didn’t need her sympathy. He didn’t need anything from anyone. He’d learnt what a mistake that could be. ‘The injury I could have learned to live with. After all, every professional sportsman or woman has to accept that one day their career will end—even if that happens sooner than they wanted. What made it worse was the discovery that my manager had been systematically working his way through my fortune before leaving town.’ There was a pause. ‘Suddenly, everything I thought I had was gone. No job. No money. My fall from grace was...spectacular.’

‘So what did you do?’ she whispered.

Salvio shrugged. He had raged for several days and thought seriously about going after his manager and pinning him to the nearest wall until he had agr

eed to pay the money back. Until he’d realised that revenge was time-consuming and ultimately damaging. That he didn’t want to spend his life in pursuit of his broken dreams and to dwell on the glories of his past, like some sad loser. And then had come the final blow. The final, bitter straw which had made him feel a despair he had vowed never to repeat. Resolutely, he pushed the memory away. ‘I sold all my cars and the fancy apartment I’d bought in Rome,’ he said. ‘And gave most of the proceeds to my parents. Then I took what was left and bought a plane ticket to the US.’

‘That’s a long way from Naples,’ she observed slowly. ‘Why there?’

‘Because it was a big enough place to lose myself in and to start again. I didn’t want to be defined by a career which had been cut short and I was young and strong and prepared to work hard.’ He’d worked to the exclusion of pretty much everything else in order to get the break he’d needed and, when it had come, he had grabbed at it with both hands. Perceptive enough to recognise that people were starting to move downtown and that run-down areas of the city were potential goldmines, he had started buying up derelict properties and then renovating them. On his Christmas trip back to Naples that first year, he had brought his mother a fancy coat from Bloomingdales. These days he could give her the entire store—and frequently tried—but no amount of material success could ever fill the emptiness in his heart.

He stared at Molly, amazed at how much he had told her. More than he’d ever admitted to anyone, even to Lauren. His gaze raked over her and he thought how different she looked from the first time he’d seen her, eating cake in the kitchen, her ripe body looking as if it was about to burst out of her uniform. Her green dress exuded all the class and sophistication which was an inevitable by-product of wearing designer clothes which had been chosen by an expert. Yet it was the softness of her eyes he noticed most—and the dewy perfection of her creamy skin. She still radiated the same wholesome sex appeal which had drawn him to her in the first place and he wondered why he was wasting time talking like this. What would he be doing with any other woman he was sharing a bedroom with—let alone the one who was wearing his ring?

He felt the erratic hammer of his pulse as he glanced down at his watch. ‘I don’t want to talk about the past any more.’

‘Okay,’ she said cautiously. ‘Then we won’t.’

‘And we don’t have to be at my folks’ place for a while,’ he said unevenly. ‘Do you want a tour of the city?’

‘Is that what you’d like to do?’ she questioned, with the compliance which was such an essential part of her nature.

‘No. That’s the last thing I want to do right now. I can think of a much better way to pass the next couple of hours. Can’t you?’

Molly thoughts were teeming as she met his dark gaze. So much of what he’d told her hadn’t been what she was expecting, yet now she knew the facts they didn’t really come as a surprise. The first time she’d seen him she’d noticed the power-packed body of a natural sportsman and the faint limp which he had all but managed to disguise. The single physical flaw in a man who was looking at her now with a question in his eyes.

She was still a relative novice at sex, but already she could recognise the desire which was making his face grow tense. She knew what he wanted. What she wanted too. Because she hadn’t really enjoyed their night apart, last night. And even though the bed had been amazingly comfortable, she kept thinking about Salvio lying next door. Wondering why he hadn’t tried a bit harder to sleep with her. Wondering if he’d gone off her and didn’t fancy her any more. And—desire aside—wasn’t the truth that she felt safe in his arms—even if that feeling passed as quickly as a summer storm? She stared into his molten black eyes and, for once, said exactly what was in her heart.

‘Yes, I can think of a few things I’d like to do,’ she agreed shyly. ‘As long as they involve us being horizontal.’

She was unprepared for the curve of his smile as he walked towards her or for the way he lifted her hand to his, kissing each finger in turn before leading her over to the huge bed which overlooked the famous bay. She was eager to feel his naked skin against hers but this time there was no urgency as he began to undress her. This time his fingers were leisurely as they unclipped her bra and her swollen breasts came spilling out, his moan appreciative as he caught one taut nipple between his teeth. Molly squirmed beneath the teasing flick of his tongue but her frustration didn’t seem to have any effect on his lazy pace. And didn’t her heart pound with joy when he bent his head to drop a series of tender kisses on her belly as if he was silently acknowledging the tiny life which grew inside her?

‘S-Salvio?’ she stumbled tentatively as she felt the brush of his lips against her navel.

‘It’s going to be okay,’ he said, his voice growing husky.

What was he talking about—their future, or meeting his parents? Or both?

But suddenly Molly was beyond caring as his movements became more urgent.

She cried out when he entered her and clung to him fiercely as he made each hard thrust. It felt so deep—he seemed to be filling her body completely, as if he couldn’t get enough of her. And it felt different, more intimate than it had ever been before. Was that because he’d trusted her enough to tell her things she suspected he usually kept locked away—or was this sudden closeness all in her imagination? But the pleasure she was experiencing wasn’t imaginary. Her senses felt exquisitely raw and heightened so that when her orgasm came, Molly felt as if rocked by a giant and powerful wave—her satisfaction only intensified by the moan he gave as he spilled his seed inside her. Afterwards she felt as if she were floating on a cloud. His breath was warm and comforting against her neck and she missed his presence when he withdrew from her and rolled to the other side of the mattress.

‘That was just...perfect,’ she said dreamily, the words out of her mouth before she could prevent them.

But Salvio didn’t answer and, although the sound of his breathing was strong and steady, Molly wasn’t sure whether or not he was asleep. Was he just lying there ignoring her? she wondered, with a sudden streak of paranoia. Lying there and pretending?