Our Little Secret Read online

‘Yes, well, never mind me getting some action...’ I physically turn her away from me and point her towards the door. ‘You need to get yourself back upstairs to Tyler and leave the niggly things to us, yeah?’

  I give her a gentle shove and she blows me a kiss over her shoulder. ‘Just make sure you wear the black cozzie for the pool later...or the red one...you choose! Either’s sure to be effective.’

  I laugh at her tenacity. ‘I’m so glad I let you talk me into buying them.’

  ‘You can thank me properly later...once you’ve had a proper seeing to!’

  She prances from the room, much lighter than when she came in. At least the poor state of my sex life has the power to do her some good. But let’s face it, she wouldn’t be quite so light on her feet if she knew I’d already met Rafael and just how close I’d come to...not helping.

  I walk up to the discreet staff member hovering by the breakfast bar and arrange for a breakfast tray complete with His and Her mimosas to be sent up to Dani’s room. Next, I head outside because I know where Rafael is. He’s out running. Just as I would’ve been if I hadn’t come out of my room at five-thirty this morning and caught him doing the exact same thing ahead of me.

  I smooth back my ponytail, brush down my maxi dress and scan the grounds. Really, I should wait for him to be showered and fully clothed before I bring this to his attention, but I get the sense that Marianna’s going to have the whole castle turned on its head if she isn’t dealt with soon. I’ve only met her a handful of times and that was enough.

  My stomach flutters as I wait. Nerves, excitement, anticipation. I tell myself it isn’t my fault he found me naked in his pool last night, or that I was so sexually frustrated that I propositioned him. My cheeks flush even now at the way I behaved, the brazen way I ogled him, the words I used...

  I clear my throat.

  But then I remember how he looked at me. The reciprocation in his eyes, in his kiss, in his... Oh, yes.

  And of course he chooses that moment to appear, emerging from the path in a burst of power while I’m recalling his impressive manhood. Jesus. I snap my gaping mouth shut, straighten to fend off the heat determined to melt my insides and smile. Yes, smile. Be polite. Put everything in neutral and start over.

  At least I’m clothed this time and he’s... No, he’s not... He’s...pulling off his tee and my mouth is open again and dry, so dry. He’s a few strides away when he spies me. His eyes sharpen, his mouth lifts to the side and...

  Close your bloody mouth!

  ‘Buongiorno, Faye.’

  I’d forgotten how thick and sexy his accent is, and the way he says my name has me wanting it on repeat, again and again and again.

  ‘Good morn...’

  It comes out high and I don’t quite get the ‘ing’ out as I watch him tuck his shirt into the side of his shorts. Oh, how I want to run my hands all over every slick inch, explore, discover, tease...

  I flick my eyes up to his and flex my fists that itch with the urge to touch. ‘Nice run?’

  He combs a hand through his hair, and I physically fight to keep my mouth shut. I cross my arms in front of me.

  His eyes flicker in the direction of the move, his throat bobs and I latch onto the gesture, hoping I’m not the only one suffering with this dogged attraction. It makes me feel better. Not a lot, but a little.

  ‘It was decent.’ His eyes come back to mine. ‘I’m going to get a drink. Want one?’

  ‘I’m fine, thanks.’

  He smiles and gives me a polite nod, averting his gaze as he goes to move past me. ‘No problem.’

  ‘Wait!’ I reach out on impulse, finally remembering why I’m here...and it’s not to ogle, touch or do any manner of the things raging through my brain. ‘Before you go in, can I have a quick word?’

  He pauses, his brows drawing together, and now he’s close, really close. His slicked-up body glows deep bronze in the sun, brilliant, blinding, and I can feel the heat pulsing off him in my outstretched palm. It’s not sweat I smell, it’s a heady mix of male cologne, all musky, sensual and... Jesus, Dani’s right, I just need to get laid, already.

  ‘Sure.’ He hesitates, his eyes darting to the castle interior and back out to the path before coming back to me. He steps closer, taking me with him so we’re out of sight of the open entrance. The flutters reignite inside my belly, clambering all the way up through my throat as I blink up at him.

  ‘Look,’ he says ‘if it’s about last night, I—’

  ‘No!’ I blurt, wetting my lips quickly and backing up a step. ‘I mean, it’s not about that. Though we probably should talk about that too. But maybe not... Well, I mean, it’s not... It wasn’t...’

  And fuck me, I’m rambling! I can work a conference centre of hundreds without getting flustered but a one-on-one with Rafael Perez has me floored.

  Great maid of honour I’m going to make if I can’t remain close to the bride’s brother without losing my cool. And, to make it worse, he’s laughing. His rich brown eyes positively dance in the morning sun now, flecks of honey-gold shining through, all warm and amused.

  ‘This isn’t funny.’

  ‘I didn’t say it was.’

  ‘You’re laughing at me.’

  ‘I’m not.’

  ‘You are.’ I resist the urge to poke him in the chest as I know one single press of my finger against that hot, naked skin and I won’t be able to stop my palm moving in next. ‘I can see it in your face.’

  He crosses his arms and his biceps bulge—eyes up, Faye!

  ‘I’m sorry.’ He purses his lips, swallows. ‘I confess to finding your bluster...endearing.’

  Endearing. I scan his face. As in sexy-endearing, cute-endearing, silly-endearing? I want to ask. My ego begs me to ask. But that’s not what I need to talk to him about.

  ‘Stop distracting me.’

  ‘Distracting you?’ His lips twitch at the corners; his body quivers.

  ‘You’re laughing again.’

  ‘I didn’t make a sound.’

  ‘Your insides are laughing.’

  Now he bellows with it, an almighty chuckle that has him looking ten years younger, no sign of the serious, severe Raf-like behaviour I’ve been forewarned of and... And he’s bloody well laughing at you, Faye.

  ‘Okay, I surrender, I am laughing.’

  ‘It’s not acceptable.’

  ‘Which bit?’

  ‘All of it. The laughing, the distracting, the not telling me who you were last night.’

  ‘In my defence, last night I was a little distracted.’

  I drag in a flustered breath. ‘You were distracted?’

  ‘You were naked.’

  ‘You were naked.’

  ‘You were naked first.’

  ‘Oh, my God.’ I shake my head, waving a frantic hand around me. ‘I can’t even believe we’re arguing about this.’

  ‘I prefer to call it a debate.’

  ‘A what?’ I stare up at him, wide-eyed and I know I truly must be flushing scarlet, but inside I’m torn between wanting to jump his bones, put him in his place over not fessing up over his identity sooner and running the other way before I do anything that has the power to detract from Dani’s special week.

  ‘A debate. I don’t argue.’

  He’s so resolute, I frown. ‘You never argue?’

  ‘Never.’

  My frown deepens. ‘Never ever?’

  He chuckles. ‘Never ever. It’s a waste of breath. And as for the debates, I always win in the end.’

  His smile is so cocksure that it bolsters me, giving me the mental slap I need. ‘Is that so?’

  It’s a rhetorical question. I know he means it; I can read it in his stance. Even half-naked he has an air of authority, a don’t-mess-with-me attitude that speaks of many years at the top, of being the boss of his d
omain.

  And I’m not about to feed that mammoth ego.

  I fist my hands on my hips and focus on what I’m really here for.

  ‘Well, Mr I’m-Always-Right, we have an issue that needs fixing—so if you’re done with your morning exercise, and our debate, we have your mother to sort.’

  ‘My mother?’

  He curses under his breath and I know I have his attention now. The right attention. The kind of attention that keeps us clear of the teasing and the flirting so that Dani can enjoy herself without worrying about her mother.

  ‘I’m going to need a shower for this.’

  I swallow, or gulp, rather. Why does my mind have to project the image of him under the jets, all soaped up?

  ‘Yes, you shower, and I’ll... I’ll...’

  ‘Come to my room. Top of the stairs, turn left, last door on your right. Ten minutes.’

  ‘Your room?’ He’s already moving off and I stare after him. He can’t be serious.

  ‘Ten minutes.’ He looks back at me just long enough to add, ‘Don’t worry. I promise I’ll be dressed appropriately by then.’

  I don’t need to see his face to know he’s grinning as he walks away now. And I shouldn’t be smiling too. But I am. I press a hand over the excited thrum in my lower belly and curse my body for misbehaving.

  Ten minutes. I have ten minutes to get this under control.

  And then, to his room. Just him and me.

  To discuss his mother, Faye.

  Yes, just a discussion, nothing more. Nothing more at all...

  CHAPTER FOUR

  SI, I INVITED her to my room.

  Si, I’m asking for trouble.

  Si, it’s hardly discreet, but I did it anyway.

  And do I regret it?

  Diavolo, no.

  Never mind the elevated heart rate from pounding the trail for a good ninety minutes, just seeing her again has it falling over itself.

  It seems that coming face to face with a blushing Faye in a top-to-toe dress, an insipid yellow of all colours, is just as powerful as seeing her naked. Or maybe it’s that I’ve seen her naked, that I know what the dress hides, that has me overheating again and losing all good sense.

  Maybe if we’d actually gone through with something, gained some release, this would be under control now. I curse my noble streak, the one that had me confessing my relationship to Dani and putting an end to anything happening last night. I can’t forget how she looked while propositioning me, her voice all sultry and soft.

  I’m kind of a lady in need—a damsel in distress, if you like—and you’re my perfect fantasy.

  Screw fantasy, I want to make it a reality. And I will. Just as soon as she gets my mother off her chest.

  We’d be perfect together in bed. I know because I’ve tasted her, felt her responsive body pressed against mine, felt it tremble with a need as powerful as my own. All from a kiss. A kiss that was far too short and far too teasing with it.

  One solitary kiss.

  I hit the shower, turn it to cold and grit my teeth as the icy shards pummel me. I need to moderate this. Get it under control. But it seems even the chill can’t dampen my desire. And it’s madness. She’s just another woman. A woman I should be able to shut out until time and circumstance permit. Instead, she’s haunting my every waking thought and, as I tug on my nagging erection with the intention to clean myself, I know how foolish I am, how hooked I am. And I blame it entirely on how we met.

  Her body gliding through the water, naked, lithe, captivating. Watching her push up out of the pool, her hair a dark, sleek mass down her back, the water streaming down her front, her outthrust chest, and those nipples, taut and pleading. Cazzo. That’s at the heart of this. That vision. And it was no illusion; it was real.

  I’m barely aware of my fist pumping faster, harder, my mind filled with her. I drag in a breath and plant both palms onto the wall, leaning into it as the water pounds the back of my head and my neck. There’s one solution that offers the greatest satisfaction for both of us, because I’m not imagining the way she looked at me outside, the way the colour flooded her cheeks, the way her eyes feasted over me. She still wants me.

  She wants me like she did last night, before she learned who I was. And I want her. Want her so much that a hurried hand job isn’t going to cut it.

  I push away from the wall and lather soap over my body while my mind focuses on my proposition. I can pitch in my sleep. I’ve just never pitched something of a sexual nature before. My grin lifts to one side. I’ve never met a woman for the first time when she was naked and look where that’s left me. Like this. Hard and dissatisfied.

  I’m dressed and at the door with a minute to spare, my cock stiff and throbbing against the zip of my chinos. Idiota. I’m like a loaded gun. I adjust my crotch and unbutton my shirt another notch, not that it’s the cause of the tight feeling in my throat, or the dryness either. That’s all nerves and anticipation, both of which are alien to me and just as frustrating with it.

  Diavolo, I don’t let people get under my skin; I don’t obsess over them. Work, si. Working out, si. But people...those outside of my family and close friends...no. Getting emotionally invested leads to dependency, an addiction you can’t live without, a bond that can break you...and the sooner I can get Faye out of my head, the better. And sex will do that. It’s worked in the past and it will now.

  Ultimately, people are too self-serving, too mercurial to warrant any more.

  Not that Dani and Tyler believe that. I’ve done that conversation to death over the last year, trying to convince them marriage isn’t necessary.

  On the plus side, thinking about marriage has the desired effect in the trouser department, just in time for her rap on the door. I breathe over the kick in my pulse, the excited rush that floods my body, and I pull open the door.

  ‘Ciao.’ My smile lifts as quickly as the ripple of awareness straight to my groin. Have I mentioned I hate mustard? Mustard in any form, but the colour in particular; it’s so unappealing. But on her...that dress...

  ‘Are you going to let me in?’ She scans the hallway either side, her hands wringing in front of her as she bobs on her heels. She’s worried about being caught. And you should be too!

  ‘Sure.’ I step back, pulling the door further open and bow my head to her ear as she passes, allowing myself a second’s appreciation of her heavenly scent before I add, ‘Don’t worry, you’re here on official wedding business. Knowing my family, this will become quite the regular occurrence this week.’

  And if I have my way...

  Her lashes flutter as her lips part, her cheeks flush that delicate shade of pink and she gives me a small smile. ‘They can’t be all that bad.’

  I laugh, the sound deep and throaty thanks to her proximity. ‘You better believe it.’

  I swing the door closed and watch her carry on into the room.

  ‘Wow,’ she says, breathless, her eyes lost in the room. She tilts her head back to look at the vaulted ceiling and turns on the spot, taking in the fresco above. ‘Is this original?’

  I follow her line of sight to the garden scene above and see it with fresh eyes. It is ethereal, captivating, romantic even. Not that I go in for the latter.

  ‘It was restored by the previous owner, I believe; this was his private domain.’

  ‘While the rest of the castle was rented out to guests for holidays, events...weddings?’

  ‘Si.’

  She flicks me a look. ‘Care to tell me why Dani doesn’t know you own it now?’

  I shrug. ‘I haven’t told her yet.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because she’ll think it a step too far.’

  Her smile sparkles with curiosity. ‘A step too far in what, the doting big brother stakes?’

  ‘Something like that.’

 
‘So you did buy it for the wedding?’

  ‘I bought it because I knew how much she wanted to get married within the year and venues like this are booked years in advance.’

  She laughs. ‘And what about the people that likely had this one booked before you swept in and took over?’

  ‘They were well compensated.’

  She laughs more, her head shaking. ‘You’re quite something.’

  My eyes narrow, the question itching to get out. In a good way or a bad way?

  ‘Don’t worry.’ She must spy the apprehension in my gaze. ‘Your secret’s safe with me.’

  ‘That’s not what I was worried about.’

  ‘No?’

  ‘I was working out if you thought it was a step too far.’

  She looks to the floor as she considers it, her smile soft, and when her eyes come back to me, they’re warm and full of...appreciation?

  ‘I think if you can afford to take such measures to make a loved one happy, then why not?’ She wets her lips. ‘Though buying an entire castle and its estate does seem...’ she squeezes her thumb and forefinger together ‘...a teensy bit overboard.’

  I pocket my hands and shrug.

  ‘I was going to buy something in this location anyway, eventually.’ Another shrug but it’s awkward, stilted with the alien need to defend myself. It’s as though someone up there is having a laugh at my expense, putting Faye in my path to see how much she can push me out of my comfort zone.

  ‘You were?’

  ‘Si,’ I say firmly, trying to calm my reaction. ‘The wedding just forced my hand.’

  She eyes me with continued curiosity and I find myself elaborating. ‘Tuscany is the only place I’ve ever truly felt at home.’

  I can’t believe I’ve admitted it, let alone said it out loud. What is wrong with me?

  I clear my throat and move deeper into the room as I head for the breakfast that was sent up while I was in the shower. Not that I’m hungry. At least, not for food.

  And it is the truth, Tuscany is the only place I’ve ever felt happy. But those days were so long ago, they almost feel like a dream. A dream that quickly morphed into a nightmare.