The Italians: Luca, Marco and Alessandro: Between the Italian's Sheets / The Moretti Heir / Alessandro and the Cheery Nanny. Natalie AndersonЧитать онлайн книгу.
and cries of encore and bravo rang out, pleasure and relief rippled through Emily. It had been so worth it. The warmth, the atmosphere, the music, the spectacle—everything had been as wonderful as she could have wished. Well, almost everything. Somehow that fleeting encounter with a gorgeous stranger had made her miss something she hadn’t had time to want until now—touch, pleasure, a sense of her own desirability. It had been a long time coming. She’d been too busy to date, and the one attempt at a boyfriend really hadn’t been worth it. But suddenly, with one touch from him, that closed door to the sensual part of herself had been swung wide open. And now she was left wondering, wanting to walk through it.
She and Kate moved among the mass of bubbling, happy people, finding their way out of the amphitheatre and into the piazza where the crowd spilled and milled. Emily didn’t want the night to end. She lingered, still feeling the vibrations from the sound of orchestra and voice, but most of all still feeling the touch of a finger on her lips…wanting more.
‘Did you think the soprano was a bit off in that last duet?’
Emily knew Kate was about to dissect the performance note by note, but honestly she hadn’t been listening too close in that one. She’d hadn’t been able to stop her gaze from travelling down to a certain spot in the rich seats where a dark head was slightly elevated above the others. The music had become the soundtrack to the kind of fantasy that she didn’t usually have time to indulge in.
‘Umm, which bit?’ Warmth pervaded her entire body and she smiled, reliving the secret pleasure of that chance meeting. Then she glanced at her sister, saw her mouth open and the deep breath. Her smile disappeared altogether as Kate launched full tilt into the final refrain of the biggest ‘hit’ of the night.
‘Kate!’ Emily whispered—mentally screaming. How embarrassing. But her sister just threw her a naughty glance and kept on going. As people turned to look a moat of space appeared around them and Emily longed for a lifeboat to take her back into the crowd. She scanned it, discomfort prickling as more and more turned their way. Then she saw the group of well-dressed men. He stood in the centre, half a head taller. Striking, and staring right in their direction. There was a woman there too. Of course there was. Standing right beside him—beautiful and elegant, obviously an Italian fashionista and obviously interested in him. A lover to sit with at the opera?
A stupidly strong sense of loss washed through her. They’d only shared a few words on the steps, but it had felt as if a myriad of possibilities had been unveiled. But she wasn’t anything like the woman he was with, so there was no ‘possibility’after all, and her disappointment was bitter.
The second Kate paused for breath Emily grasped her arm, propelling her forwards. ‘Are you done?’
‘No.’ Kate threw a smile in the direction of anyone still looking their way and fell into step. ‘I’ve had a great idea.’
Emily didn’t want to listen. Emily just wanted to get away. But, unlike him, Emily had to look back. She turned her head over her shoulder for one final glimpse. He was staring right at her, smile curling upwards, and as she met his gaze he winked. She didn’t smile, but she kept looking, needing to capture his image in her mind for one final moment before turning away.
They rounded the corner into one of the busy side streets and Kate lurched to a halt. ‘I am not just having bread for the next two days. We’re in Italy. I want pasta, I want pizza. I want a restaurant.’
‘Kate.’ Emily was close to exasperation point. Why couldn’t she understand that they just didn’t have the funds for that?
‘I’m going to get us some more money.’
‘How?’
‘Busking.’
‘Kate.’ Emily’s heart sank. She knew what her sister was like—the attention she’d got would only have whetted her appetite.
‘Come on, Em, you saw the crowd that gathered just then. Three songs and we’ll have enough for the most fabulous meal tomorrow—one of those long, lazy lunches at one of those tables outside, with millions of courses and lots of wine.’
Admittedly Emily’s mouth was watering at the idea but she tried to ignore it. ‘You’re probably supposed to have permits to perform.’
Kate yawned big and fake. ‘Rules, Em?’
‘One of us has to be responsible.’ And she always had been—as a matter of necessity. She’d had sole responsibility for the two of them for years. Mother, father, sister, friend, breadwinner, cook, cleaner, chauffeur—all rolled into one.
‘It’s a shame there’s no piano for you to accompany me. Unless you want to do that duet?’
‘Not on your life.’ Kate could have the limelight. Emily was happy to accompany but centre stage was too bright for her.
‘I’ll only be ten minutes. No one will mind.’
Emily sighed and stepped to the side, watching as Kate shook out her hair from under her straw hat. Her sister was impetuous, impulsive and impossible to say no to and, as she’d predicted, she had a crowd around her within minutes. Emily wasn’t surprised. With her long red locks and slender figure, Kate turned heads even before she opened her mouth. And when she started singing? The angelic, pure tones made anything with ears stop and listen. As the crowd of people thickened Kate flung her a triumphant glance and truly got into her stride. Emily stood to the side and looked around, anxiously keeping an eye for sight of a carabiniere, not wanting to get into trouble.
‘Your sister is talented.’
She jumped. He was right behind her. She turned a fraction, and yes, really, he was there—looming large. Her body went hypersensitive. Her brain threatened to shut down altogether. ‘Yes.’
‘And so are you.’
Umm, how did he figure that? She shook her head. ‘Not quite in the same way.’
‘No,’ he agreed before his voice dropped, the alien lilt becoming more audible. ‘Your sister is still a child. Whereas you, I think, have the talents of a woman.’
Emily drew a sharp breath and turned to face him full on. ‘You’ve got to be kidding.’
‘No.’ His dark eyes held hers, amused and challenging. ‘You send me a look like that over your shoulder? What choice did I have but to follow?’
The gauntlet had been thrown. Silver fire raced through her veins. She had the talents of a woman? If only she did—why, then she’d have him on his knees before her, with all his arrogance and experience rendered useless. Wanting her beyond reason and willing to grant her anything—the crazy idea sent a thrill through her. Since when was she any kind of sex goddess? When was it that she’d last had sex?
She forgot about Kate warbling in the background, forgot about the woman she’d seen near him, only heard the humour in his voice, only saw the sexy smile… To be talking suggestively like this was so foreign, but so much fun. She wanted it to continue.
She tried an almost saucy reply. ‘If that’s the case, then perhaps you should be careful.’
His smile went wicked. ‘Definitely.’ He held out his hand. ‘Luca Bianchi.’
She glanced to his hand and then back to his face, letting her own smile go sinful. ‘You’re not afraid I might bite?’
‘I’m half hoping you will.’
She lifted her hand. ‘Emily Dodds.’ The frisson raced up her arm as contact was made.
‘Emily.’ The way he said it made her toes and everything inside her curl up tight. His hand gripped hers firmly. ‘Did you enjoy the opera?’
‘I loved it.’
He nodded. ‘It was a good performance.’
‘And a lovely atmosphere.’
‘My company could