The Ruthless Italian's Inexperienced Wife. Christina Hollis
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difficult to remember that. As she looked him up and down, his broad, powerful body and intense stare did strange things to her. Such feelings were aroused deep within her body that Cheryl began to fidget.
This was an important moment. She knew she mustn’t wreck it. It was exactly the wrong time to be reminded of the feel of his damp jacket, or the wild fragrance of him…
So she channelled all her frustration into one dark glare. Marco Rossi didn’t deserve the surge of hormones that were powering through her body. She tried to convince herself of that as she took in his powerful bulk. She wasn’t going to allow it to make her eyelashes flutter like some silly schoolgirl.
‘If you had returned any of my telephone calls, signor, I could have given you an up-to-the-minute report on Vettor.’
His lids flickered.
They’re lovely eyes, Cheryl thought, as clear and blue as that enormous swimming pool on his terrace…
With an exclamation of annoyance, she broke eye contact. She had to. This man was a magician! He was trying to bewitch her with his come-to-bed eyes. But Cheryl knew exactly what men were like. She thought back to the time she’d spent with Nick Challenger. That curbed her thundering pulse. Memories of Nick could kill any feeling within her stone-dead.
There was a tense silence. Then Marco Rossi cleared his throat.
‘I tried many times. I couldn’t get a signal for my mobile phone. The storm must have knocked out some of the transmitters.’
She risked shooting another look at him. The watchful amusement was long gone from his expression. He was staring straight ahead, his aquiline features carved in stone. Giving him the benefit of the doubt, she softened slightly.
‘OK,’ she allowed, ‘I’ll tell you what happened from the beginning. Your nephew didn’t look well when I first arrived. I took his temperature, and he was feverish. I recognised the early signs of scarlet fever straight away. A local doctor confirmed my diagnosis.’
Cheryl had been relieved when the doctor had been impressed with her. She waited for Marco Rossi to congratulate her, too. Her new employer merely looked uncomfortable. She pressed on.
‘Vettor has been calling for his grandmother. He seems to be missing her badly. Might it be possible for her to visit?’
Rossi stiffened, and then turned away in the direction of Vettor’s bedroom. ‘Things are that bad?’
‘No—no. Wait, Signor Rossi.’
Instinctively Cheryl put out her hand and caught his arm. He stopped, looking down at her fingers. She forced herself to relax, and released her hold on him.
‘I’m sorry, signor,’ Cheryl said, without knowing if she was apologising for touching her employer or surprising him. ‘I didn’t mean to give you the wrong impression. It’s just that—your staff tell me you don’t often visit the Villa Monteolio.’
‘What difference does that make? They always know how to get in touch with me. I write to Vettor, and he doesn’t want for anything.’
Except physical contact, Cheryl added silently.
‘He’s just a child. He’s lost his parents and he needs someone to care for him. To love him.’ When a child was involved, Cheryl never knew when to keep quiet. The look on his face told her she had overstepped the mark.
Marco’s jaw tightened. Turning his back squarely on her, he headed off along the corridor toward Vettor’s room. ‘I’ve wasted enough time already. Let me see him.’
Cheryl bounded past her new employer. Reaching the sickroom first, she blocked its doorway. She had to draw the line somewhere, and this was it. Marco Rossi couldn’t leave a child alone in this ruin for weeks on end and then burst in on him like an avenging angel. Vettor was delirious. Cheryl knew how she would react if she opened her eyes and saw Marco Rossi’s powerful figure bending over her in the gloom, but her fantasies had to be quashed in the face of a very real danger. If Marco confronted Vettor in this mood, it would terrify him. Cheryl couldn’t allow that to happen.
‘Wait here. I’ll see if he’s—’
Marco Rossi never waited for anything. With an angry exclamation he brushed Cheryl aside and went straight in.
CHAPTER TWO
MARCO leaned over the little figure in the bed. As she got closer, Cheryl thought she heard the murmured words, ‘Eh, bimbo?’ or something like them. But when her employer realised she was at his elbow, he raised a barrier of grim silence.
Vettor stirred, muttering something in his sleep. Marco started adjusting the bedclothes. It was too much for Cheryl. She couldn’t bear to think of Vettor being frightened awake. She tried to squeeze in between Marco and his nephew, hoping her friendly face would be the first thing the little boy saw when he opened his eyes. It was no good. Marco was big, and solid as a rock. Desperate to protect Vettor, Cheryl did the only thing she could. Reaching around, she grabbed her employer’s hands.
The feel of them came as a shock. They were hard, and the smooth skin was stretched taut over sinew and bone. They contained such strength. Cheryl realised they could snap her like a twig. Although she quailed inside, she braced herself and held on.
‘Please don’t scare him, Signor Rossi!’ she whispered desperately.
‘I want to check his rash. The last message I got was from my secretary. She told me you suspected a bacterial infection. His mother had meningitis at this age. She only survived because, like you, I can recognise signs.’
That stunned her.
‘Oh… Then I’m sorry, Signor Rossi.’
Cheryl relaxed her grip, but did not move. They were locked together, still bending over their patient. When Marco Rossi bobbed his head slightly in acknowledgement, Cheryl felt the movement stir her own body. Her heartbeat reacted instantly, but one look at his face shook it back into line. His expression was tense and inflexible.
‘If that’s the case, then hearing Vettor was sick must have given you a terrible shock,’ she said. ‘But the moment the doctor made his official diagnosis I rang your office number to give you the news. Vettor has scarlet fever. He’s being treated with antibiotics, which are already taking effect.’
‘Scarlet fever sounds serious.’ Marco turned his aristocratic face towards her. ‘Why isn’t he in hospital?’
His expression was like flint, and its effect on Cheryl was instant. He trapped her in his gaze and looked right into her soul. A warm glow began creeping up from her breasts and flushed her cheeks with colour.
‘The doctor said home was the best place for him,’ she said, desperately trying to keep her mind on track.
Marco Rossi might be scary, but he was gorgeous, too. It was amazing to be pressed up against him like this, with neither of them willing to give way. He sent shivers right through her.
‘I can see an improvement in him already, so there’s no need to move him now. Besides, where would you rather be if you weren’t feeling well, Signor Rossi? In an unfamiliar hospital ward, or safe at home with someone who cares about you, not just for you? This is the best place for Vettor,’ she added, half afraid her employer would wheel away with a snarl.
He didn’t. Instead, he went on staring at her with those piercing blue eyes. Eventually his lips twitched into a slow, teasing smile. Then he pulled straight out of her grasp, as though all her strength was nothing. Standing up straight, he confronted her, head on.
‘You English, with your manners and your stiff upper lips!’ He spread his hands wide to emphasise his point. ‘Let me tell you something, Cheryl—’
‘My name is Miss Lane, Signor Rossi.’
He raised one eyebrow in a gesture she wasn’t supposed to defy.
‘And