Horribly embarrassed by what had nearly happened, she jerked to her feet. Never mind what Gianni had said, she just knew they must be trespassing, and they had been caught. Panic-stricken, she began bundling everything together, visions of languishing in an Italian jail leaping into her mind.
‘I don’t believe it,’ Gianni muttered furiously under his breath, swinging around and striding back to pick up his shorts and shirt and pull them on.
‘We are trespassing, aren’t we?’ Kelly demanded, her face flushed, her hair disheveled. She had no notion of how wonderful she looked to Gianni as she struggled into her own shorts and top.
A wry smile parted his firm mouth. He’d just been caught by the security guard he employed to keep an eye on the grounds and hunting lodge he owned. At least the man was doing his job properly, but it was no consolation to Gianni, who was aching in actual pain with frustration. Not for the first time in the last few days he wondered if the pretence was worth it. But he was so used to women throwing themselves at him because of his wealth and name that it made a refreshing chance to be treated like a regular guy. But if he had told Kelly who he was, and taken her to his house and his bed, he would not now be suffering the burning torment of frustration her delectable body had aroused in him.
‘Sorry, Kelly. But I will make it up to you tonight, I promise.’ His mind was made up: tonight he would tell her the truth. Bending down, he picked up the blanket and the food box in one hand and held the other one out to her.
He glanced down at her silver head, her hand so trustingly in his, and he felt a bit of a bastard. She was a truly lovely girl, both inside and out. He knew she wanted him; she could not hide her reactions. Neither could he, he thought drily, willing his body to subside. But he was not into denial so it would have to be tonight, because tomorrow he was leaving. He had work commitments piling up around his ears, never mind the fact the Bertoni family were returning.
Gianfranco was a sophisticated, experienced man of the world and Kelly, at twenty-one, was obviously no innocent. She was incredibly responsive and went wild in his arms, though sometimes she actually looked surprised at her own reactions. He knew without conceit that he could have had her the first day he’d met her.
He stopped, puzzled for a moment at his own restraint. He was not a man who went in for one-night stands—he usually took a woman out three or four times before taking her to bed. He had to like the woman he was sleeping with, and he certainly liked Kelly. He was looking forward to a new affair as it had been three months since the end of his last relationship. Plus, he wanted to discover if she was as much a gymnast in bed as she was out of it!
His sudden halt about a yard away from the motorbike caught Kelly by surprise and she kept moving. Her hand fell from his, and, turning, she grinned up at him.
‘Don’t look so worried.’ He was watching her as she spoke with an oddly speculative gleam in the dark eyes that met her own. ‘We weren’t arrested, and it could have been worse,’ she offered with a grin. ‘At least the chap didn’t shoot at us.’
Gianni’s lips quirked. He chuckled and then laughed out loud. ‘You are so good for me, Kelly. Come on…’ And, handing her a helmet, he added, ‘Mount up and let’s ride.’
‘Now, that’s an offer few girls could refuse.’ She gave him a very sexy wink.
‘Get on the bike,’ Gianni ordered. ‘Before I change my mind,’ he teased her with a blatantly salacious grin, his dark eyes sweeping her slender form from the top of her head to her toes. She really was very lovely; she made him feel like a teenager again. She looked like one herself in cut-off denim shorts. It suddenly occurred to him that he’d never seen her wear anything but shorts or trousers. A necessity on a bike, but he could not help wondering what she would look like sleek and groomed in the kind of designer dress his usual girlfriends favoured. He found himself voicing his thoughts. ‘Tonight, wear a dress.’
‘On a bike? You are joking?’ Kelly chuckled, swinging one shapely leg over the saddle.
‘No, no, I’m not.’ Straddling the bike, he glanced back over his shoulder. ‘Tonight we will ride in style. I’ll collect you at eight in a car.’
Kelly clasped her hands around his waist and hung on tight as he revved up the engine. Usually she wallowed in the warm protection of his huge body as they rode along the road, but not today. Instead her brain ran a hasty inventory of her wardrobe and she realised she had absolutely nothing to wear!
When she heard the doorbell ring Kelly waved goodbye to a frowning Marta and dashed down the marble hall to the entrance door. She was praying Gianni would approve of the pale pink silk-lined chiffon dress that she had bought that afternoon from a sale rack in a very expensive boutique in the town.
Gianni’s reaction was all she’d hoped for. His dark eyes widened and an arrested expression crossed his ruggedly attractive face. ‘You look absolutely stunning, Kelly.’
‘I did as you said. I wore a dress,’ Kelly responded softly, her heart swelling with love and pride, her eyes drinking in the sight of him. A pale green shirt fitted perfectly across his broad shoulders, open at the neck to reveal the tanned column of his throat. Cream pleated cotton trousers skimmed his lean hips and long strong legs, and on his feet were brown hide loafers.
She looked back up at his face and her breath caught in her throat. He was so handsome, and somehow different, older than the devil-may-care biker she had fallen in love with.
Gianfranco was silent for a long moment, his dark eyes narrowing assessingly on her face and shapely body. The long silver-blonde hair was swept up on top of her head, revealing a diamond crucifix glinting at her throat. The jewels were genuine. The elegant pink dress and shoes were designer wear. He should know—he had bought enough clothes for females over the years.
His dark brows drew together in a frown. Maybe she knew who he was. Who was fooling whom? he wondered wryly. Tonight she looked older than her twenty-one, a mature, sophisticated lady, and hey, if she liked to play games, all the better; she obviously knew the score.
‘Gianni.’ Kelly had an uneasy feeling that she had upset him somehow, and she wondered if everyone in love felt this roller-coaster ride between high and low. Her stomach did flip-flops and her pulse raced at the sight of him, but he only had to frown and she was worried sick.
A relieved if slightly cynical smile parted his firm lips. ‘Kelly, cara.’ He drawled the endearment and, taking her arm, added, ‘Come on, let’s go eat.’
Encouraged by the endearment, and a minute later seated in the passenger seat of a big blue Volvo car, she asked as Gianni slid behind the driving wheel, ‘This is a nice car; is it yours?’
‘My family’s.’ Bending over, Gianni pressed a swift, hard kiss on her mouth. ‘Don’t worry, I have not stolen it,’ he quipped.
‘I would not dream of thinking such a thing,’ Kelly said drolly.
‘Of course not.’ One dark brow arched sardonically in her direction and they both chuckled, remembering their first meeting.
Kelly’s earlier fear was quickly dismissed, and half an hour later, when he took her hand as he helped her out of the car, she looked up with interest at the large grey stone house set in a small clearing surrounded by trees. ‘Where are we?’ Kelly queried. It did not look like a restaurant. A single window was lit, the light spilling out over a terrace, and there was not a soul in sight.
‘I did think of taking you to the most expensive restaurant in the area.’ Gianni turned her to face him, and added, ‘But I thought of something more private,’ he husked in a deeply sensual tone.
The butterflies in Kelly’s stomach started a stampede, but she was where she wanted to be, with Gianni, and, lifting her head, she beamed up at him. ‘Admit it. You couldn’t afford it,’ she challenged him teasingly. ‘So you decided to break into a house in