‘Why was that?’
‘Mmm?’ he questioned distractedly because the skyscrapers outside the window were spangling her face with shafts of light, giving her skin a jewel-like luminance.
‘You didn’t think the house had potential?’ she persisted.
‘Oh, it had plenty of potential. It was one of the best properties of its kind to come on the market all year, and I thought very seriously about buying it.’
‘But you changed your mind.’ She glanced down and began to fiddle with the snug skirt of her floral dress, as if reluctant to meet his eye and when she lifted her face again, her cheeks were flushed. ‘Did...did what happened with me influence your decision?’
Niccolò’s eyes narrowed, surprised she’d had the guts to ask the question and risk the rejection she must have known was coming. But wasn’t it better she realised exactly where she stood? If he explained it to her in stark shades of black and white, so there could be no grey areas of misunderstanding? ‘In a sense, yes. It would have been difficult if we kept running into one another.’
‘In case I formed an unwanted attachment towards you?’
‘That was always a consideration,’ he conceded.
‘Because you’re so irresistible?’ She gave a short laugh. ‘Because women find it so hard to forget you once you’ve had sex with them?’
Unapologetically, he shrugged. ‘So they tell me.’
‘That’s the most big-headed thing I’ve ever heard!’
If she’d been a little more experienced he might have replied with mocking innuendo but no matter how he answered, he wasn’t going to deny the truth. He was an excellent lover. He knew that. He prided himself on giving pleasure, as well as receiving it. But women often mistook good sex for something different, because they were programmed to search for something deeper and he was programmed to avoid exactly that. Occasionally he embarked on a relationship, but it was nearly always brief and he was always strangely relieved when it ended and he could feel free once more. He knew his limitations. He was too complicated and emotionally repressed for any kind of romantic partnership. Too damaged for anything permanent. That was the reason he only ever had liaisons with women who knew the score. Who regarded sex as an enjoyable pastime, not as some kind of audition to become his wife.
He’d thought Lizzie Bailey was cast from the same mould—with her foxy green dress and inviting eyes. Yet her unexpected innocence and sweet fervour had placed her in a category of her own, which had thrown him at the time. He’d spoken the truth when he’d said he wouldn’t have gone near her if he’d known she was a virgin—though deep down he wondered whether he would have been strong enough to resist the allure she had radiated that day. His heart had been raw and aching on the anniversary of the deaths. He had been filled with sorrow and regret. Deep in emotional pain, she had been exactly what he needed at that time. A transient and sensual balm for his troubled soul and nothing more.
The night which had followed had been sensational. Her lack of experience had meant that everything they’d done had been new to her and she had been the most delightful of students, eager to learn what pleased him and shyly discovering what gaveherpleasure. The intensity of her many orgasms had been matched by his own—a mind-blowing amount—even by his standards.
But when he had woken next morning and seen her serene smile as she’d snuggled up to him, warning bells had sounded in his head. She had been too inviting. Too sweet and too soft. Her nipples like ripe cherries topping the creamy mounds of her breasts, he had wanted to lick her all over. He had wanted to thrust into her wet tightness again and again with a need which had threatened to devour him. But these days he was better equipped to recognise danger in its many forms, and these days he always heeded it. Ignoring the hard throb of an erection, he had forced himself to get out of bed and steel his heart against the confusion in her green eyes. He hadn’t wanted to get to know her better, because there was no point. He hadn’t wanted to hurt her.
‘It just seemed less complicated to walk away,’ he concluded heavily.
‘So what made you walk back?’
There was a pause. ‘Guilt,’ he said eventually. ‘And duty. Nothing more.’
‘Wow. You don’t pull any punches, do you?’
‘I don’t lead women on. Not even in your case. Especially in your case, Lizzie. You are carrying my child and because of that I owe you the truth. It’s better you understand that I’m not planning to play happy families any time soon.’ His mouth hardened. ‘And I’m certainly not the man of your dreams.’
‘Oh, I really don’t need you to tell me that, Niccolò,’ she said. ‘I’d sort of worked that out for myself.’
Something about the quiet dignity of her response made him feel uncomfortable and, suddenly, he needed to get away. He glanced at his watch as if it were a lifeline. ‘Look, I have a number of work calls I need to make before dinner, so why don’t you—?’
‘Make myself at home?’ she interjected sarcastically.
‘Meet me back here at seven,’ he said, refusing to rise to the sudden fire in her eyes. To show her that he was in control, even if at that precise moment he didn’t feel it. ‘We can either eat dinner in the hotel restaurant or have something prepared here. Up to you.’
Lizzie hesitated. She didn’t want to walk into a posh hotel restaurant in her cheap clothes, but the thought of sitting at either end of a table which could comfortably have seated ten in Niccolò’s private dining room filled her with horror. There had been too many high-end new experiences to contend with today and she figured she had just about reached her limit.
‘If you want something fancy, then please go ahead without me. I certainly don’t mind if you want to go out on your own,’ she said. ‘I’d be perfectly happy staying in with a sandwich.’
His lips curved into a reluctant smile. ‘I think the chef could just about run to that.’
‘I’m perfectly capable of making it myself.’
‘I’m sure you are.’ There was a pause. ‘But the staff get a little proprietorial about the kitchen. Perhaps you can relate to that?’
‘Are you trying to reinforce my servant status?’ she demanded.
