The Tuscan Tycoon's Pregnant Housekeeper. Christina Hollis
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Michelle was quick to pick up on the tinge of regret in his voice. ‘You can work from the house, signor—’
He shot her a warning look and she corrected herself, ‘I mean, Alessandro. You should have let me show you around. The whole house is set up as a satellite office. It’s got everything—’
He silenced her with a raised hand. ‘This is all I need at the moment—some peace and quiet. Tonight I want to drink in this atmosphere and the starlight.’
He gestured towards the sky. Michelle lifted her eyes, following his finger as it pointed upwards. With the coast behind them, they were looking out over the velvety blackness of the villa’s estate. Beyond its boundary walls lay miles of lavender fields and patches of undeveloped maquis. There were no disco lights to outshine the stars as they twinkled like pinpricks across the deep indigo of the night.
‘Have you ever seen anything so beautiful, Michelle?’ he asked.
She shook her head, although she thought he was more wonderful than anything else on show that night. Her emotions were in meltdown. Part of her wanted him to say more. Seduction would have been extra-sweet in this heavenly setting under the stars. Yet a spider’s web of warnings tugged at her, holding her back.
Her mother had always told her how untrustworthy men could be. None had stuck around for long after they’d met the fearsome Mrs Spicer, that was for sure. The result was that Michelle couldn’t fully enjoy the experience of being alone with such a wonderful man in this tempting situation. She was too busy watching for warning signs.
But if Alessandro realised how tense she was, he made no allowance for it.
‘I think this has been the most miraculous evening I’ve ever experienced.’ He took the champagne glass and spoon from her hands. Smiling, he saluted her with it. ‘Thank you for sharing it with me.’
Michelle was stunned. No one had ever said anything like that to her before. ‘If there’s ever anything you want, Alessandro, you only have to ask,’ she whispered.
He put the glass down on the table behind him.
‘That’s dangerous talk, Michelle.’ There was a provocative look in his eyes that almost stopped her heart. ‘But…if you’re sure you don’t mind…perhaps you could do me a favour?’
‘What is it?’ she asked—much too quickly.
His expression moved slowly but surely into a wide, tempting smile.
‘How would you feel about moving into the villa while I’m staying here?’
CHAPTER THREE
MICHELLE gazed at him, totally unable to form any words. Alessandro leaned forward a little, adding mischeviously, ‘I can guess how wicked it will make you feel, but don’t worry. We’ll keep it our secret. No one need know.’
That forced Michelle to find her voice. ‘What are you saying?’ Blushing, she lowered her head. Silence closed in around her. When she looked up again, his understanding smile set her tingling from head to foot.
‘I want to use your studio for my art. I know you like to keep your distance from the rest of the indoor staff, but there’s no one here right now. You could move in for a while and give me free rein.’ She was caught in his piercing gaze. ‘Trust me. There’s nothing more intimate on offer than that.’
Everything went very still. In the silence, Michelle became painfully aware of a sound inside her head. It was all her dreams crumbling into dust.
‘Unless,’ he said as an afterthought, ‘you have something more intimate in mind…?’
His voice lilted with danger. Michelle sensed it. Her mother might have seen off all her boyfriends in the past, but when it came to Alessandro Castiglione no previous experience was necessary. This man was seduction in the flesh.
Pressing his foot into the carpet of tiny sweet herbs beneath the swing-seat, he set it moving. It rocked gently in the warm breeze, scented by low-growing thyme. Michelle hoped it would cool her flaming cheeks. Instead, she felt hotter than ever. She began moving uneasily. Strange feelings flowed through her body every time she looked at him. She had never experienced anything like this before. At home, eye contact had been something to be avoided. Here, held by his steady gaze, it was to be enjoyed.
His arm dropped lazily along the back of the bench. Michelle had an overwhelming urge to lean against it. She had felt the strong security of his hands once already. To feel them a second time, in a caress rather than as a support, would be heavenly. It took a real effort to shake free from the power of his eyes.
‘What’s the matter, cara?’
She stood up quickly. ‘I don’t like this.’
He laughed. It was a low, provocative sound.
‘No…? I think you like it very much.’
Michelle couldn’t answer. Telling the truth at a time like this would only catapult her straight into trouble.
‘Tonight belongs to you and me, Michelle. There are no spectators, no listeners behind doors. We are free to be ourselves for once.’
He looked her up and down with a practised eye. She felt like a rabbit, cornered by a very attractive fox. She sat down again, faintly surprised by her new courage. A slow smile warmed his eyes. He stretched out his limbs, extending his legs across the gravel in front of the studio house. His body language and his expression were so open and inviting. He looked a completely different man from the world-weary professional who had stamped up to the villa a few days earlier.
Michelle caught her breath. He was wonderful. Wonderfully dangerous, she reminded herself. Something about that look in his eyes warned her to take care. She was only the hired help, after all. She would be mad to encourage him. He had burst into her life from nowhere, and he would vanish with the same speed.
A mischevious breeze ruffled his night-dark hair.
‘Would you like some more champagne, signor?’ she said, before he could draw her further into his orbit.
He shook his head, and she pursed her lips. He must think she was a complete innocent, talking about wine when there might be so much more on offer. It was a short step from that to imagining she was stupid. Michelle knew that wasn’t true—despite the number of times her mother had said it.
‘So—what’s your answer?’ he went on. ‘Will you move out of here so I can indulge myself in Terence’s purpose built art studio? The change would do us both a lot of good. Trust me,’ he repeated.
Michelle sensed it was the last thing she should do. On the other hand…she needed to prove she wasn’t a naïve fool. Alessandro had looked so careworn when he’d arrived. He already looked a lot better. How much more improvement might there be if she gave in to him over this little matter? Music was supposed to work wonders as a form of therapy. Art might do the same for him.
‘All right,’ she agreed, before she could change her mind. But she knew his reputation couldn’t be allowed to frighten her into falling in with all his plans. She was determined to have boundaries.
‘Good…you’re making a work-worn billionaire very happy.’ He laughed softly.
Michelle could tell he hadn’t said it to pull rank. His words had been hollow, and his gaze told of something deeper behind his words. Michelle shivered, and he snapped out of his reverie.
‘You are cold. I can’t keep you from your bed any longer, Michelle. I must go.’ He stood up and, bending forward until his head was almost touching hers, took her hand and raised it to his lips. His parting kiss was the light touch of a butterfly dancing on her skin, but it burned like the passion that fuelled his life.
‘Buona notte, Michelle. Sweet dreams,’ he added with a flash of mischief as he swung away into the night.
Michelle