Lessons in Rule-Breaking (3 page)

The thought of getting beneath that well-secured facade made him want things. Things he really shouldn’t be wanting right then, not when he ought to be swearing off women until he started producing some decent art for this long-overdue exhibition.

His gaze dropped to her small, cupid-lipped mouth and he wondered for a second what it would feel like to kiss her, how she would taste on his tongue, before dismissing the idea. He
really
needed to focus right now.

A flash of him sitting down to capture this intriguing contradiction of a woman in paint and pencils flitted through his head. He’d love to have her pose for him. He hadn’t felt this captivated by anyone or anything for such a long time it was as if he’d been given a shot of adrenaline to the heart. His fingers itched to pick up his pencil and start sketching her face.

She threw her hands up in exasperation when he failed to respond to her last jibe. ‘Okay, well, I guess I’d better leave you and your
massive ego
in peace so you can get back to work.’

Turning on her heel, she strode away from him, her shoulders pulled forward with tension and her hands balled at her sides.

‘Let me draw you.’ The words came out of his mouth before she reached the stairwell, stopping her abruptly in her tracks.

She turned round to face him and her look of utter confusion made him laugh out loud. She’d make a great comic actor.

‘What did you say?’ The words seemed to catch in her throat and she gave a little cough at the end as if to clear the blockage.

He walked over to where she was standing. ‘I’m in need of a portrait model and I think you’d make a fascinating subject.’

‘You want
me
to pose for you?’

‘Sure, why not?’

‘Firstly, because I have a job as a serious
journalist
,
and secondly, because I’ve seen how you treat your models and, I have to say, I’m not champing at the bit to get the same treatment.’

He startled her by lifting a hand and running it vigorously over his face before snorting with laughter. ‘Okay,
Lois Lane
, but in my defence Sera was the one up for more than just modelling and I was being a gentleman for once by turning her down,’ he said, resting one arm against the wall behind her so it nearly touched her shoulders. ‘That’s why she was so mad at me.’

She seemed to bristle at his close proximity and readjusted her stance to lean away from him. He tried hard not to let her casual rebuttal bother him.

‘Okay, clearly I’m off my game and I apologise for being rude to you earlier,’ he said, tipping his head to one side in an attempt to mollify her. ‘Can we call a truce and start again?’

He stared at her hard, attempting to commit her face to memory in case she refused his offer and he never saw her again. The thought bothered him more than it should considering they’d only just met. What was it about her that he found so enticing?

‘Okay. Truce,’ she agreed, smoothing her hand down the front of her immaculate blouse.

‘How about this?’ he suggested, spurred on by her acceptance. ‘You come out to Italy for a few days and let me draw you and I’ll give you an exclusive interview.’

Her eyes widened at the—admittedly rather out of the blue—offer. ‘You want me to go all the way to Italy to interview you? Why can’t we do it here, now?’

‘Because I need to leave for the airport in a couple of hours and I want to be able to give you my full attention. It’s Italy or bust.’ He had to forcibly stop himself from dropping his gaze to her own rather impressive bust that nestled beneath her shapeless, overlarge jacket. He didn’t want her to think he was asking her to do more than pose for him. He didn’t need a complication like that right now, not when he’d finally started to feel the buzz of creativity that had been eluding him for so long.

She stared at him for another minute, clearly trying to process it all, twisting her hands together as she thought about it.

‘What’s the matter, Miss Prim, too wild for you? Perhaps I should offer an exclusive to one of your rivals instead. I’m sure it would help sell a truckload of
their
magazines.’

Her eyes widened at the challenge and he wondered for a moment whether she’d be brave enough to rise to it. He sensed from her earlier frustration that she was hungry for an interview with him, so perhaps this would push her to say yes.

He hoped so. He really wanted her to come now he’d suggested it.

She was twisting her fingers together as she thought about it, but when she caught him looking at her hands she crossed her arms defensively in front of her. ‘Okay. I’ll come to Italy and sit for a portrait, but I want an in-depth interview, not just the usual pat answers you reel out for everyone else.’

He raised an eyebrow. There was no way he was giving her anything
deeply
private, but he could break his no-discussing-anything-personal rule just this once. It would be worth it if it meant finally breaking his dry spell and getting this exhibition off the ground.

‘Deal.’ He went back into the studio and jotted down the address of the villa on the banks of Lake Garda, which he was borrowing from a friend for a few weeks while he worked on his exhibition in peace and isolation. A complete change of scene was exactly what he needed right now in order to get his head straight. He felt stifled here in London. He needed space and sunshine and fresh air.

Coming back out, he handed her the slip of paper and she took it with a shaking hand. Was she nervous? The idea of it surprised him. She seemed so put-together with her straight clothes and strident manner.

‘Maybe we should formally introduce ourselves,’ he said, flipping her a cheeky grin and smiling as a pink hue tipped her cheekbones. ‘Xander Heaton.’ He extended a hand and she put her own small, cold one into it. Her grip was firm, though, which surprised him. Usually women did that limp-handed press that left him feeling as if he were an overzealous brute when he shook hands with them.

‘Jessica LaFayette. My friends call me Jess,’ she said, giving him a tight smile.

He grinned. ‘So which should I use? Clearly I haven’t made it into the friends bracket yet.’

‘Jess is fine,’ she said. ‘But I might withdraw the privilege if you do something else to annoy me.’ She flashed him a more relaxed smile this time, a hint of playfulness flashing in her eyes.

He laughed at that. ‘You have cold hands, Jess,’ he said, enclosing hers in both of his.

‘But a warm heart,’ she said, giving him a solicitous smile before pulling her hands firmly out of his grip.

She was going to be a fascinating subject to get to the heart of. The mere thought of it excited him. She was exactly the breath of fresh air he needed.

He was finally on his way back to the big time, baby.

TWO

Twenty-four hours later
Jess stared out of the windscreen of her hire car in wonder as the incredible scenery around Lake Garda flew by.

Pamela had been bemused at first by Jess’s assertions that she would get a great exclusive out of Xander if she followed him all the way to Italy for the interview, but in the end she’d agreed to let Jess go if she stumped up for the flight and accommodation herself. She was also to visit some of the towns that bordered the lake and write some short ‘Best Places to Holiday in Northern Italy’ pieces for the travel section while she was there. The magazine didn’t have the resources to send their staffers off to ‘just swan around the Italian Lakes,’ or so Pamela claimed.

Jess had taken it on the chin and booked herself onto the cheapest flight she could find the next day and found a room in a rather dubious-looking two-star hotel, which was the only place available on Lake Garda at short notice that didn’t cost more per day than the rent on her flat for the entire month.

The memory of Xander’s challenging look when he’d asked her to come to Italy made her insides twist and swoop. In that moment before responding, she’d thought about what Pamela had said about how she needed to live a little to become a better writer, and how much she wanted to keep her hard-fought-for job at the magazine, and despite hating the idea of sitting for a picture for him—frankly it was her idea of hell to be scrutinised from all angles by a man who made her feel so unsettled—she found herself agreeing to it if it meant he’d give her what she wanted. Strike that, what she
needed
.

No way was she going to let this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity slip away from her.

Before she’d left, Pam had pulled her to one side and reminded her that Xander was notoriously difficult to interview and that she should try and stay objective. She didn’t say the words, ‘Don’t let him twist you round his finger and into his bed’, but they were very much implied.

Jess had smiled to herself; as if
that
were ever likely to happen. Flings were not her thing and definitely
not
with men like Xander.

She had more sense than that.

As the villa where Xander was staying swung into view she took a deep breath to quell a disorientating surge of jittery excitement as she took in the sight of immaculately landscaped gardens and the imposing seventeenth-century building that resided like a noble queen over spectacular views of Lake Garda.

She’d never seen anything so perfectly picturesque in her life.

She could barely believe she was here to spend a couple of days hanging out with Xander Heaton, disgustingly talented artist, womaniser and undisputable contender for sexiest man alive.

Glancing down at the neat, but unfussy, trouser suit she’d put on for travelling, she acknowledged with a sinking feeling that she was
not
going to feel comfortable in his world.

Still, she was determined to make the most of the time she had with him. She just needed to hold her nerve and not let him intimidate her.

Ah, hell, who was she kidding? She was going to be a wreck from beginning to end. The trick was not to let him see it.

She drove up to the front of a long sweep of sandy-coloured stone steps and parked up. Swinging the door open, she got out and stretched her back, which ached like hell after being cramped up for hours, first on the plane, then in the car as she’d swung it through the Italian countryside.

Looking up at the magnificence of the building, she felt another sting of insignificance.

Get it together, Jess, you have nothing to feel humbled about.

The door to the villa opened and a handsome middle-aged woman in a beautifully cut shift dress appeared. Her long swathe of dark hair swung across her back as she walked down the steps towards where Jess was standing.

‘Ms LaFayette?’ she asked, holding out a welcoming hand.

Jess shook it. ‘Call me Jess,’ she said, giving the woman a friendly smile back.

‘I’m Rosa. I’m the housekeeper here. If you need anything during your stay please let me know.’

Jess stared at her, confused. ‘Oh, I’m not staying here. I’ve booked a room in a hotel down the road. The Royal, I think it’s called.’

Rosa frowned, looking flustered. ‘Oh, my mistake. Well, I hope they give you a good room there.’ The uncertainty in Rosa’s voice made something pinch in Jess’s chest. Did The Royal have a bad reputation?

Ah, whatever. She was only going to be staying for two nights, so it wouldn’t matter, and it was all she could afford anyway. This wasn’t a holiday, she reminded herself, it was an assignment. The first of many more, she hoped—once she’d blown Pamela away with her fun, but insightful, piece on Xander.

Another thought struck her. Had Xander given the impression she was here for more than just business? Or had Rosa just assumed she was because of his track record?

Shaking off the unnerving tingle deep in her pelvis at the thought of getting up close and personal with Xander, she smoothed down a wrinkle in the sleeve of her jacket with shaking fingers. She should really take the thing off, it was already making her hot in the intense heat of the afternoon, but she wanted to stay formal and professional to remind him she was here as a serious journalist and not someone to be toyed with. There would be no flirting and manipulating the situation by Xander.

Control, Jess, cool, calm control.

‘Is Xander around?’ Jess asked, determined to get this interview under way as soon as possible. Pamela had only given her a week to get the article written. They were going with a
Great Artists of the Twenty-First Century
theme and Xander’s interview was going to be the showcase piece, so it had to be good. If she didn’t manage to produce something whiz-bang enough Pam had suggested she’d have to pass on Jess’s notes to Maggie and have her write the article instead.

No
way
was Jess going to let that happen. This was her big opportunity to prove to Pamela she was the right fit for
Spark
.

She just needed to get Xander to trust her enough to open up and talk.

Rosa nodded. ‘He’s down at the villa’s private beach. Just follow the path over there to the lake.’ She pointed in the direction she meant.

Jess thanked her and set off to the beach, pulling the hem of her blouse down where it had ridden up over her middle and swiping a rather damp hand over her hair.

The path took her through a small grove of sweet-smelling olive trees and opened up onto a small, sandy cove with spectacular views across to the other side of the lake.

There was no sign of Xander at first, but as she looked around she noticed a movement in the clear, still water of the lake.

Jess came to an abrupt halt as Xander stood up from where he’d been swimming, gleaming rivulets of water running down from his hair and cascading over his naked chest. She watched, mesmerised, as he waded towards her, his movements agile and smooth as he powered through the water.

He glanced up and saw her standing there, tipping her a mischievous grin and giving her a welcoming salute.

‘Jess, good to see you.’

She watched him advance towards her, rooted to the spot and with an unnerving pulse beating in her throat.

His golden skin gleamed in the bright afternoon light, the gentle rays highlighting every contour of his solid frame, and as he pushed his wet hair back from his angular face, making the muscles of his chest twist and flex, she had to suppress a squeak of pure delight. There was unbridled power in his stride, as he quickly covered the ground between them, that made her insides jump and twist with pleasure.

Scuffing her toes into the sand, she gave herself a lecture on the evils of letting her overactive imagination get the better of her.

‘Hey,’ Xander said, when he finally reached her, flashing her a grin that made her stomach lurch with lust. Drops of water clung to his eyelashes, making them look obscenely long and lush as they framed those incredible eyes of his.

Jess swallowed, trying to loosen up her throat, which was tight with tension. Shaking her nerves off before they took too firm a hold, she reminded herself that she was here to work, and that was what she was damn well going to do.

‘H-hello. This place is beautiful,’ she managed to stutter out, cursing the shake in her voice. She was having immense trouble keeping her gaze on his face and not allowing it to drop to the incredible physique of his chest.

‘It’s a friend’s holiday home. Pretty impressive, huh?’

‘Yup. Impressive.’ It seemed she was totally out of intelligent conversation. Not a great start for someone who was supposed to be a wordsmith for a living.

‘I’m heading back up to the villa for tea and cake. Rosa makes the best summer panettone. Come and join me.’ It wasn’t a question and she bristled a little at his bossy tone.

‘I’m not hungry. I had a late lunch.’

He gave her a slow, sexually laden smile that made her stomach swoop alarmingly. ‘Well, I’m hungry.’

The gentle breeze caught her hair and blew it across her suddenly incredibly hot face. Before she could react, he took a step towards her, lifted his hand and slid his long fingers against her cheek, then tucked the rogue curl of hair behind her ear. It was such an intimate thing to do she was utterly lost for words, and, instead of speaking, she found herself staring at his mouth, totally transfixed by the fullness of his lips as they parted slightly, revealing his perfect white teeth. The heat of his almost naked body bled into her skin and she took a deep, calming breath in, only to draw the musky fragrance of his skin into her nostrils, sending her senses spinning out of control.

Every bit of her body felt energised and tingly—the anticipation of what could happen if he just leant forward a couple of inches burning like wildfire in her chest. Was he going to...?

Kiss me.

She wasn’t sure for a second whether she’d said it out loud and she skimmed her gaze up to look into his eyes, hoping desperately it had only been an errant voice in her head.

His gaze flicked between her eyes, the bright aqua of his irises captivating her with their other-worldliness.

What the hell was going on here? A nervy panic rose inside her, causing a wave of jittery heat to rush up her neck. She couldn’t handle this. Not here, in broad daylight, totally unprepared for what might happen if he kept on looking at her like that.

Xander must have sensed her panic because he took a step away from her, giving her the space and air she suddenly craved.

‘You okay, Jess?’ he said, bemused concern clear in his voice.

‘Fine. I’m fine,’ she managed to gasp, forcing a smile onto her face. ‘Just a bit hot in the sun.’ She flapped a hand in front of her face in a pathetic attempt to cool herself down. ‘I have to go and check in to my hotel but I wanted to let you know I’d arrived. I’d like to make a plan for starting the interview so we can get started as soon as possible.’ She kept her voice clipped and businesslike, trying like mad to pull back the professional persona she’d been so keen to promote.

‘How very diligent of you. Well, to be honest, I’m not in the mood for spilling my deepest, darkest secrets right now.’ He took a step closer to her and dipped his head, his gaze capturing hers as something dangerous flashed in his eyes. ‘I’d like to get to know you a bit more
intimately
first.’

‘I’m not going to sleep with you,’ she blurted out before she could stop herself, her nerves riding roughshod over her common sense.

He laughed out loud, shaking his head in mirth.

Jess just stood there dumbly, flushing hot with embarrassment.

What an idiot she was. Of course he wasn’t talking about sleeping with her. She very clearly wasn’t his type if the media reports of his affairs were anything to go by. From what she’d seen in the press—and at his studio—he was more of a leggy-blonde type of guy.

And that suited her just fine. Absolutely fine. Couldn’t be finer.

‘Don’t worry, I’m taking a break from seducing innocent young journalists, so your virtue is safe with me,’ he joked, his mouth quirked in a playful smile. ‘I
am
interested in your body, Jess, but only on an artistic level.’

Jess pulled her arms across her chest. ‘You can’t blame me for being wary when you make provocative-sounding statements like that. You do have a reputation for being a bit...’

‘A bit what?’

She paused, searching for the right word. ‘Wild.’

He gave her a bemused grin. ‘I promise to be on my best behaviour,’ he said, making a crossing motion over his heart. ‘And if I slip up you have my permission to
lick
me into shape.’

Oh, my God
, the images he’d just conjured in her mind.

She really needed to get out of here before she totally lost her cool.

‘Come over for dinner tonight at eight,’ he continued, going over to a rock where he’d left his towel and swiping it along his long, lean arms, ‘and we can get better acquainted.’

He flashed her one last beguiling smile before turning and walking away up the path, the bright drops of lake water that still clung to his broad back shimmering in the sunlight.

An overwhelming urge to pack up and go home, where she didn’t have to deal with these weird and disturbing feelings he provoked in her, besieged her. But she wasn’t going to leave. She was determined to keep her job at the magazine, no matter what it took. She was going to brazen it out here and ignore the blatant innuendos he seemed so keen to tease her into a jittery mess with.

He was a player all right, but she wasn’t about to let him play
her
.

* * *

In total contrast to the villa where Xander was staying, her hotel was the most run-down, sleazy-looking pit Jess had ever had the misfortune to set eyes on. She could have sworn she saw a rat run around the corner of the building as she parked her hire car in the tiny, litter-strewn parking lot. The thought of it made her shudder. She wasn’t good with rodents. Or spiders. Or any type of insect if she was totally honest.