The Last Heir of Monterrato
‘I’m sure we both regret it now.’
He certainly did. Even though he had been twitching to make love to Lottie for weeks now. Even though every little thing she said or did set him off, and even though there had been countless times when he had wanted to pull her to him, feel the luscious softness of her against him, rip off her clothes, claim her naked body for his own—any or all of the above. But he had been convinced he could handle his infatuation, he really had. A master of control, it was inconceivable that he would give in to his weakness.
When they had been at the palazzo it hadn’t been quite so difficult. With the pressure of work and meetings and business trips—not all of which had been strictly necessary—he had been able to keep out of her way, distract himself enough with the hundred and one things that needed his attention. Plus the place was big enough to hide in. Though the thought that he, the Conte di Monterrato, respected head of the principality, formidable businessman, someone who had never run away from anything in his life before, should be hiding himself away from this young woman—a woman he had vowed never to let get to him again—held an irony that wasn’t lost on him.
But in the villa there was no escaping her. It shocked him, this visceral effect she had on him. It almost knocked the breath out of him and he needed all his powers of self-control to keep up the façade of indifference, to stop the mask from slipping and revealing the unadulterated lust beneath. Now he knew all his pretence had been for nothing and he had been shown to be the fool he really was—a fool for exposing himself again to the woman who had broken his heart and a fool for ever thinking he could resist her.
As if to drive home the point Lottie moved past him again, turning her back on him and bending down to take a saucepan out of the cupboard. He stared at the pale strip of skin above the low waistband of her jeans, at the way the denim stretched tautly over her pert behind. Dio!
‘Well, that’s nice to know.’ Banging the saucepan down onto the hob, Lottie reached across for the kettle and recklessly sloshed in water. ‘Thank you for enlightening me about how I feel. For telling me that I regret it every bit as much as you do. That makes me feel so much better.’
‘Lottie...’ Rafael reached for her arm but she backed away from him with the agility of a springbok.
‘Don’t touch me, Rafael. Don’t come anywhere near me. Last night was a mistake. You have made that perfectly clear. Now, if you would like to get out of the kitchen, I would like to prepare my meal in peace.’
Picking up a knife, she sliced at the plastic film of a container and shook pasta into the pan. ‘The meal I will be eating alone, because you are too busy to join me.’
‘I am just saying, Lottie, that after last night it is probably best if we give each other some space.’ Rafael raked an exasperated hand through his tangle of dark curls.
‘Well, what are you waiting for?’ Lottie gestured towards the door with the knife. ‘There is plenty of space out there.’
‘If I have upset you then...’
‘Don’t you dare.’ Lottie’s blue eyes flashed from cold to fire with murderous intent. ‘Don’t you dare tell me that you are sorry.’
* * *
Watching the computer screen close down in front of him, Rafael leaned back in his chair. He should have had more than enough work to keep his mind occupied—apart from anything else he was hosting a charity dinner in a week’s time, a fundraising event for the premature baby foundation he had set up in his daughter’s name. But despite staring at spreadsheets and banging out emails for a couple of hours the tension of his confrontation with Lottie had still refused to lessen.
Using his foot, he pushed himself away from the desk and stood up, stretching the bunched muscles of his arms out before him.
What made this so unbearable—what made his mood black enough to block out the moon—was this feeling of loss of control. He had lost it last night—spectacularly so. Given in to his carnal instincts. No, more than that, he had given in to Lottie herself. And it pained him to recognise that that meant so much more than just sex.
Despite his best efforts to regain control this evening all he had done was make things worse. His bad-mannered behaviour had simply stirred up the simmering cauldron of unspoken tension and newly raw feelings.
All of which made him want to go out and kick something. Hard. Made him want to go out and do something that would put him in extreme danger. Because that was what he did when he felt like this. An adrenaline junkie, he needed his fix—it was the only thing that went halfway to easing his pain.