A Dangerous Infatuation (19 page)

Emma caught her breath at the sudden flare of emotion she glimpsed in his eyes, but it was gone before she could decipher it—hidden beneath the sweep of his dark lashes. In a black tuxedo and brilliant white shirt he looked mouth-wateringly sexy. She felt her heart rate quicken and gave a wry smile.

‘So do you. Thank you for the flowers, by the way. They were a lovely surprise.’ Her eyes lingered on the three dozen red roses that had been delivered to the villa during the day and were now arranged in a vase on her dressing table. Red roses were for love, she thought wistfully. But Rocco did not love her, and from all she had learned of him he would never give his heart to any woman.

‘It’s time to leave.’

His velvety voice drew her from her confused thoughts. Enjoy the present, and stop worrying about the future, she told herself as she slipped her hand in his and allowed him to lead her from the room.

‘What do you think of my house, Mrs Marchant?’

Emma was standing by the window, gazing out at the night-time view of the city of Genoa, where graceful old
buildings were illuminated by the golden glow emitted from the street lamps. She turned her head at the sound of the heavily accented voice to find that Silvio D’Angelo had joined her.

‘It’s incredible,’ she replied honestly, recalling the tour Rocco had given her earlier of the five-storey house, whose elegant rooms were filled with priceless antiques. ‘It’s such a beautiful, historical building—as are so many of the other houses nearby.’

‘This part of Genoa is known as the Old City, and is included on the World Heritage list,’ Silvio told her.

Shorter and stockier than his grandson, he had a wrinkled face and grey hair that indicated that he must be well into his eighties, but there was a shrewd gleam in his dark eyes that Emma found unnerving.

She smiled hesitantly. ‘Please—call me Emma.’

He dipped his head in acknowledgement. ‘Rocco tells me you are a good friend of his?’

She felt herself blush.
Just good friends
was hardly an apt description of their relationship, she mused, recalling the numerous times he had made love to her the previous night. ‘Yes. I’m staying at the Villa Lucia for a few weeks to act as a companion to Cordelia.’

Silvio’s beady eyes seemed to bore into her. ‘And after that you will return to England?’

Her stomach swooped at the prospect, but she hid her dismay and nodded. ‘I’ll be going back to my job as a district nurse.’

Her eyes were drawn across the room to where Rocco was chatting to a stunningly attractive woman who he had introduced earlier as Valentina Rosseti—the only female engineer on Eleganza’s design team. From the way Valentina was batting her eyelashes at him she would lay
a bet that the Italian woman wasn’t thinking about hybrid engines now, Emma thought sourly.

Silvio followed her gaze and his expression became speculative. ‘I am an old man,’ he announced. ‘I was ninety years old last month, and it is time I handed over control of Eleganza to my grandson.’ He sighed heavily. ‘But I have stipulated that Rocco must curb his playboy lifestyle before I assign full power of the company to him. He needs to marry a good Italian girl, and produce an heir to one day succeed him.’

Emma gave him a doubtful look. ‘I don’t think marriage is on Rocco’s agenda.’

The elderly man snorted. ‘My grandson knows his duty. Eleganza is his favourite mistress, and he will do whatever is required of him to take control of the company he loves.’

A gong sounded to call them to dinner, but her conversation with Silvio had unsettled Emma and she was unable to enjoy the five superb courses, each served with a different wine specially chosen to complement the food. It did not help that Rocco was seated at the far end of the table with his grandfather, Tino Manzzini and several of Eleganza’s clients—presumably so that they could discuss business. Emma was seated next to one of Rocco’s elderly uncles, who spoke little English, while to her other side was Shayna Manzzini.

‘So Rocco decided to forgo his pretty young neighbour in favour of you,’ the Canadian woman drawled towards the end of the meal, pushing away her dessert of Tiramisu untouched.

Emma had noted that she had barely eaten any dinner, and guessed that semi-starvation was how Shayna retained her model’s figure. She was unsure how to respond to the
comment, but Shayna did not seem to be waiting for a reply.

‘I noticed at his grandmother’s party that you couldn’t take your eyes off him. But you do know it won’t last, honey? Rocco doesn’t do commitment.’ She paused to ensure she had Emma’s full attention and then said softly, ‘Not even with the mother of his child.’

Trying to hide the fact that her hand was shaking, Emma put down her spoon, telling herself that it was the rich confection of mascarpone and cream in front of her that had made her feel sick. She had previous experience of Shayna’s spiteful tongue, and was not inclined to believe a word she said. There was a lot of truth in the saying that hell knew no fury like a woman scorned, she thought wryly. But something in her expression must have revealed her uncertainty to Rocco’s ex-mistress.

‘I assume from your stricken look that he hasn’t told you?’ The model shrugged. ‘Well, I’ll grant you it is speculation rather than fact.’

‘What is?’ Emma demanded bluntly.

‘That Rocco has a son by one of his mistresses. Rumour has it that the boy and his mother live here in Genoa, and that Rocco visits them every week. I guess that would explain why, according to my husband, no one can contact Eleganza’s CEO after he leaves the office at midday every Friday.’

‘There could be a dozen reasons why Rocco leaves work early,’ Emma said tersely. In the past she had jumped to conclusions about him far too quickly and, as it had turned out, wrongly. She did not intend to make the same mistake again—especially at the words of an embittered woman who had had an affair with him years ago and clearly still resented the fact that he had dumped her.

She trusted Rocco.

The realisation settled like a warm glow around her heart. After having had her faith destroyed by Jack, she had never thought she would trust anyone ever again. But Rocco had always been honest with her—even to admitting that he did not want a long-term relationship. She had gone into their affair fully aware that it had no future, but she had no regrets. She would always treasure the time she had spent with him, she thought softly, conscious of the dull ache inside her when she envisaged returning to England without him. Her life would be a lot easier if she had not fallen in love with him, but that was her fault—not his.

‘Rumours rarely amount to more than spiteful gossip,’ she told Shayna coldly. ‘And I certainly don’t believe that Rocco has a secret child.’ She thought of his gentle patience with her daughter, and was certain that if he ever had a child of his own he would be a devoted father. ‘He’s an honourable man.’

The model arched her finely plucked brows. ‘Oh, dear, you’re in love with him,’ she drawled mockingly. ‘Well, don’t say I didn’t warn you.’

Dinner finished soon after, and Emma managed to avoid Shayna for the rest of the party, but she was relieved when the evening drew to an end and Rocco escorted her out to his car. Doubts were like weeds, she thought dismally. They started out as a tiny seed but grew to smother rational thought as swiftly as Japanese knotweed left unchecked in a herbaceous border.

‘You’re very quiet,
cara
,’ Rocco commented some twenty minutes later, as he turned the car onto the driveway in front of the Villa Lucia. He walked round to open the passenger door, frowning at her obvious reluctance to meet his gaze. ‘Is anything wrong?’

‘No,’ Emma denied quickly. ‘I was just thinking … about
things.’ She hesitated, her heart drumming a warning tattoo beneath her ribs.

During her marriage she had never confronted Jack on the many occasions when he had arrived home from work hours later than she had been expecting him. The idea that he was seeing someone behind her back had hovered in her mind, but she had been scared to demand the truth and had pushed her suspicions away. Looking back, she regretted her lack of courage, and it made her determined to face problems head-on now.

She followed Rocco into the villa, but when he moved to draw her into his arms she stepped back from him, knowing that if he kissed her she would be lost. Sensing his frustration, she blurted out, ‘Do you have any children?’

He stiffened, clearly shocked, and his eyes narrowed on her tense face. ‘
Dio
! What kind of question is that?’ he demanded harshly. ‘Of course I don’t.’

‘You admit that you have had numerous affairs,’ Emma pushed on doggedly, despite his deepening frown. ‘Surely it’s possible that a woman from one of your past relationships could have given birth to your child?’

‘No—it isn’t,’ Rocco told her curtly. ‘I’m always careful, and there has never been any chance of an accidental pregnancy. What kind of a man do you think I am?’ He gave a bitter laugh. ‘On second thoughts, don’t answer that. Past experience tells me that your reply won’t be complimentary.’

He sounded hurt, Emma realised guiltily. His startled reaction had convinced her that she had made a big mistake in allowing Shayna’s spiteful comments to take hold in her mind. She bit her lip. ‘It was just a stupid thought,’ she mumbled. ‘Please forget I ever mentioned it.’

Rocco stared at her downcast face and was torn between wanting to shake some sense into her and kiss her senseless.

‘
If
I was a father, I would not be involved with you. I would be married to the mother of my child.’

Now it was her turn to look startled. ‘I thought you didn’t believe in marriage?’

‘I admit that my parents’ marriage was not a good advertisement. But a child’s needs must take first priority, and although it might be old-fashioned I believe that children should grow up in a family unit with both their parents. Even though my mother and father argued frequently, I still had the sense that we were a family. When they split up I felt torn between them, and I wished they would get back together.’

The silence that fell prickled with tension. Certain that she had angered Rocco, and feeling uncertain of his mood, Emma studied the marble-tiled floor with apparent fascination.

‘Let me ask
you
a question,’ he said brusquely. ‘Why don’t you ever want to talk about Jack? I know you loved him,’ he continued before she could reply, ‘but it has been three years, and you can’t keep your emotions locked away for ever.’

‘What do you know of emotions?’ she countered shakily. ‘You’re a playboy whose tally of ex-mistresses probably equals a cricket score. From the outset you’ve made it clear that our affair will be purely physical, and emotions will play no part in it.’

‘Yes, I have,’ Rocco agreed broodingly. ‘And I was sure I meant it.’ He stretched out his hand to tuck a lock of strawberry-blonde hair behind her ear and stared into her stormy grey eyes. ‘Now I am not certain that my emotions are in my control. You have undermined the rules I have lived by all my adult life. I’ve discovered that I want a proper relationship with you, Emma,’ he said softly, his
smile a little rueful when she seemed to be struck dumb by his revelation.

Emma snatched a breath and tried desperately to steady her racing heart, but the expression in Rocco’s eyes—a mixture of tenderness and sultry promise—was scrambling her brain. ‘What kind of relationship?’ she queried cautiously.

‘One that involves us getting to know each other properly and sharing our thoughts … and feelings. I know there is Holly to consider, and that is why I think we should take things gradually, but I want you in my life,
cara
,’ he said deeply.

He could no longer deny the truth to himself or to Emma. No other woman had ever made him feel this level of need, and with a muttered oath he pulled her into his arms. ‘Is it so hard for you to trust me? I swear I don’t want to hurt you. I’m prepared to take things one step at a time, but I need you to take that first step with me.’ His voice dropped lower, his accent very pronounced as emotions he had never experienced before churned inside him. ‘Will you, Emma?’

His face was so close to hers that his warm breath feathered across her lips, and she shook with longing for him to kiss her and seduce her with his sensual mastery. She had decided tonight, when she had chosen not to believe Shayna Manzzini’s scurrilous accusations, that she
did
trust him, and she felt empowered that she had thrown off the shackles of her past.

‘Yes,’ she whispered, parting her lips eagerly beneath the pressure of his as he claimed her mouth in a kiss of pure possession.

S
UNLIGHT
slanting across her eyelids roused Emma from a deep sleep. She stretched, and smiled when a muscular arm immediately tightened around her. Cocooned in the relaxed state that preceded full wakefulness, she felt safe and totally secure, and her mouth curved into a soft smile when she lifted her lashes and met an enigmatic golden gaze.

‘Buongiorno, cara.’
Rocco brushed a kiss as light as thistledown over her lips.

‘Were you watching me sleeping?’ She could not disguise the faint note of vulnerability in her voice at the thought.

‘It’s a special part of my day—waking with you in my arms,’ Rocco told her seriously. He traced the shape of her breasts and felt his body stir when her nipples hardened at his touch. ‘Of course there are many other special moments,’ he murmured huskily.

Emma caught her breath when he lowered his head and replaced his hands with his mouth, liquid heat pooling between her legs as he continued an erotic path across her stomach and down to tease the sensitive nub of her clitoris with his tongue. What followed was a slow, sensual loving that tugged on her soul as he positioned himself above her and entered her with exquisite care. His eyes locked with hers as he brought her to a shattering orgasm, and when
their passion was finally spent he cradled her in his arms while their thundering hearts resumed a steady beat.

‘I know why you’re smiling,’ Rocco said lazily, feeling a hand squeeze his heart as he studied her beautiful face. The silky bell of golden hair framed her flushed cheeks, and he thought that she had never looked lovelier. ‘Holly is coming back today, isn’t she?’