Under the Italian's Command (8 page)

HE WAS TAKING CARLY out of the bar when a girl approached him with a clipboard, to ask if, under the happy circumstance, he would be prepared to give her company an endorsement. She might have spared a thought for
Carly’s
opinion on that, he thought, but the young woman’s gaze was fixed on him.

‘I don’t sign my name to anything unless I’ve read the small print,’ he told her, concentrating on ushering
Carly
safely towards the door. He took the pamphlet anyway and stuffed it in his pocket. ‘I’ll study this later, and find out what exactly your company is asking people to sign up to.’

The girl looked as if she wanted it back. He didn’t blame her.

Carly
noted the incident, but was still reeling from what had happened. With Lorenzo’s arm around her shoulders it was hard to think straight, and with Lorenzo’s astonishing kiss branded on her swollen lips for all time, it was impossible. Maybe she would never think straight again. But then she wouldn’t win the scholarship,
Carly
realised
, quickly shaking herself out of it.

‘All right?’ Lorenzo said, looking down at her.

‘Absolutely fine. Thank you for rescuing me.’ She eased herself free, knowing he was only being kind.

As they reached the door two representatives from the speed-dating company almost collided in their haste to open it for them. Lorenzo glanced at them, and then, leaning across her, held the door open for her himself. There was something about him, even without his wig and gown, that inspired fear in the heart of every wrongdoer, including her! ‘If this means I’m finished I’d rather you told me straight,’ she said, trying to keep up with him as he started back towards the flat.

‘We’ll talk about it later. Right now it’s more important to get you out of this weather.’ Lacing his arm through hers, he slowed, matching his pace to her shorter stride, seemingly oblivious to the sleet hitting them in the face.

‘Lorenzo, I’m really sorry to bring you out on a night like this. I was just—’

‘Trying to pick up a man in a bar?’

‘It wasn’t like that.’

‘What was it like,
Carly
?’

‘I wouldn’t do anything I thought might bring chambers into disrepute.’

‘Work? Is that all you think about? What about your own reputation?’

The lamplight was reflected in his eyes, making them appear to burn fiercely. The look reached inside her and twisted something. ‘Lorenzo, I—’

‘Lorenzo?’ he interrupted. ‘Do you think I have all the answers? Or maybe you think the scholarship will fill that empty space inside you? Do you even have a clue what you want out of life,
Carly
?’

As she stared at him in shock his jaw firmed. ‘No, I didn’t think so.’

As he swung an arm around her shoulder and urged her on she shrank into him, relieved that, though clearly exasperated, Lorenzo wasn’t prepared to abandon her to her fate. Keeping her scholarship hopes alive was important, but meanwhile it felt good snuggling up to him, and she was going to enjoy it as long as she could. Even in the freezing cold her lips still burned from his kiss, and everywhere his hands had touched, held or stroked bore little imprints of strength and warmth and protection. Dreaming again, maybe, but it was a dream that didn’t cost a broken heart to indulge in.

When they arrived back Lorenzo let them in and left her under strict instructions to strip off her clothes in the hallway. And pose nude? Catching sight of herself in the mirror,
Carly
quickly doused that thought. She could hear Lorenzo running a bath and, clutching her damp clothes in front of her, she draped her jacket over her shoulders for good measure.

‘I thought I told you to get undressed?’ he said, barely sparing her a glance.

‘I am undressed…underneath…’

Zero reaction. The promise of that kiss in the bar had cooled, leaving stern Lorenzo a little sterner, but no more interested in taking her to bed than he’d ever been. This wasn’t lust that ached inside her; it was something more, she
realised
in panic. The thought that she might have fallen in love with Lorenzo put her at more risk than a broken heart, because it made it impossible to work with him. And what about her scholarship hopes then?

‘Are you coming to have your bath?’ he said, distracting her. ‘I’ll get some towels.’

As he walked away her dreams seemed ridiculous, like the fantasies of a schoolgirl with a crush.

‘Don’t wait for me,’ he called back.

What point would there be?

Closing her eyes, she inhaled deeply. Lorenzo was way out of her reach. Even the oil he had added to the bath water was expensive and exclusive; a man like that would never settle for anything ordinary.

This time he only put his arm round the door, brandishing thick-piled, toffee-
coloured
towels, each one of them big enough to swaddle her from head to foot. ‘They’re still warm,’ he said. ‘If you hang them over the radiator they’ll stay that way…’

She thanked him and then settled back in the warm water so she could listen to him moving about in the kitchen. Tea and sympathy? Or maybe he was preparing a stiff drink for her to ease the news that her scholarship hopes were dashed.

‘Ten minutes and then we talk,’ he called to her from the hallway.

At least she didn’t have long to wait to hear her fate! Relaxing back, she closed her eyes. There was little she could say in her
defence
. She’d been feeling low and had sought refuge in a bar, which hardly sounded like the reasoned actions of a Unicorn scholarship candidate.

Lorenzo’s knock on the bathroom door made her spill bath water on the floor.

‘Are you decent?’

‘Yes…’ Well, she was cloaked in a glittering foam blanket.

‘I’m coming in.’

She sank beneath the foam.

‘Drink this.’

She cautiously pushed herself back up a bit. Lorenzo was offering her a mug of warm milk. ‘I hate warm milk.’

He ignored her complaint. ‘Drink it while it’s hot. I added honey and a sprinkling of cinnamon.’

Great. Nursery food.

‘Good girl…’

She curbed the urge to spit out a milk fountain in
favour
of sipping slowly to see if he would stay.

‘Don’t move.’

It worked.

‘I’m going for some more towels…’

She’d made an impression!

He returned with an armful of towels, but now it came to it he was rather more man than she could handle. Her body might be telling her to prepare for contact with some hard, tanned flesh, but she was losing her nerve.

He hunkered down.

‘What are you doing?’

‘Drying your hair. Maybe that way you won’t catch a chill and take time off work.’

Some impression!

When Lorenzo had finished drying her hair he held out a bath sheet, allowing her to climb out of the bath with her modesty sadly intact. As if that weren’t humiliating enough he told her to clean her teeth and stood aside.

Fantasies would be the death of her.

They went into her bedroom.

‘Night clothes?’ Lorenzo prompted.

She reached inside the bedside drawer where she stored her sexy sale bargains.

‘What’s that?’ Lorenzo demanded as she held up a wisp of lace. ‘Haven’t you got anything sensible?’

Like grandma’s bloomers?

‘How about these?’ Fishing deeper than she had, he emerged triumphantly with a pair of pink flannelette
pyjamas
. ‘These will keep you nice and warm.’

So could he…

‘Climb into bed,’ he ordered, returning to the door.

This was not going to plan. This was not going anywhere. For all she knew Lorenzo might have sisters, but she didn’t want to be one of them.

‘Don’t worry about over-sleeping. I’ll wake you in the morning.’

‘What about our talk?’

‘We’ll have it tomorrow…’

‘
Carly
…’

‘
Mmm
…’

‘It’s time to get up.’

No. He couldn’t wake her now. ‘Leave me,’ she said grumpily. ‘I’m asleep…’ She had no intention of getting out of bed so soon after Lorenzo had taken so much trouble to make sure she stayed there. ‘Did you have to do that?’ With a groan of disapproval she tried to shield her eyes. From arrows of sunlight?

‘Did I have to pull the curtains at ten o’clock in the morning? Yes, I most certainly did, young lady.’

‘Ten o’clock in the morning?’
Carly
shot up and rubbed her eyes. The evidence was undeniable. Lorenzo was wearing his three-piece suit, and he’d shaved. He was ready for work, and the thin winter sunshine was streaming into the room.

‘You’ve slept long enough.’ His eyes narrowed. ‘You wouldn’t want to be late for work.’

There was an edge to his voice that suggested she had better not be.

‘I won’t be late.’

‘Half an hour in my office.’

Half an hour? ‘I’ll be there.’

Last night had been his biggest test yet, and the night of the Grand Court had been the turning point in his mind between
Carly
Tate, promising law student, and
Carly
Tate, promising innumerable erotic delights. But this was question time and office time, Lorenzo reminded himself. He wanted to know more about her before writing his report for the scholarship committee. ‘So, your parents are supportive?’

‘Absolutely…they couldn’t be more so.’

He rearranged himself in the chair. ‘Do you have brothers and sisters?’

‘One sister, Olivia…’

Her gaze flickered.

‘Do you get on well?’