‘But—’
‘Untidy room, no football.’
With an exaggerated groan, Max slid off the chair and huffed his way out of the kitchen.
Liv closed the door behind him and Stefano’s eyes narrowed.
‘I sense I’m in trouble,’ he said softly. ‘Was it the chocolate log?’
‘I need to know what you’re doing here.’ She stood with her back to the door, wishing she’d changed out of her pyjamas before she’d started this conversation. ‘And don’t tell me you were just bringing me dessert.’
‘You refused my dinner invitation.’
‘And you always bring breakfast round to women who refuse you?’ When he didn’t answer immediately, she gave a hollow laugh. ‘Oh, don’t tell me—no one has ever said no to you before. Is that what is going on here? Is it a pursuit thing? Is this about your ego, Stefano?’
He stirred. ‘I don’t have a problem with my ego.’ He placed his mug back on the table in a deliberate movement. ‘But I do enjoy your company.’
She thought about that comment for a moment and then let out a little breath and lifted a hand to her hair. ‘Stefano, we both know that there are a million women out there who would give their entire salary to have breakfast with you. Women who are thinner and much more interesting than I am. So what I want to know is—what are you doing in my kitchen?’
‘I heard a rumour that you wore pink elephant pyjamas.’
‘Why are you joking?’
‘Whyareyou so lacking in confidence?’ His voice was soft. ‘Why is it so unlikely that I would seek out your company?’
Liv looked at him in exasperation, aware that Max could remerge at any moment. ‘Do I really have to spell it out?’
‘Yes, I think you probably do.’ Eyes narrowed, he watched her. ‘I’d like to know what I’m dealing with.’
‘You’re dealing with someone ordinary, that’s what you’re dealing with. I try to be a good mother and I hope I’m a good nurse, but I’m not interesting and I’m certainly not sexy. I’ve had a child.’ Listening to herself, she gave a groan and rolled her eyes to the ceiling. ‘I cannot believe I’m having this conversation with you.’
‘How could you possibly believe that you’re not sexy?’
‘Because I have a perfectly good mirror in my bedroom.’ Liv forced herself to look him in the eye. ‘I honestly don’t know what you want from me. If it’s sex, and I can’t imagine for a moment that it would be,’ she added hastily, ‘then it’s only fair to warn you that it’s been so long since I did it, I’m not sure I can even remember how. I can guarantee that it would be the most crashing disappointment of your life. Don’t waste your time. I—I’m orinary, Stefano.’ The way he was looking at her made her hot and shivery at the same time.
‘If you don’t think you’re sexy then there is clearly something wrong with your mirror.’ His dark gaze lingered on her face. ‘And I don’t find you in the least bit “ordinary”. You are warm, kind, independent and unselfishly devoted to your child. That makes you extraordinary, Liv, not ordinary.’
‘Stefano—’
‘I’m not here because you said no to me, I’m here because I enjoy your company and I want to spend the day with you. Do I want to have sex with you?’ He gave a slow smile and a fatalistic lift of his broad shoulders. ‘Yes, of course, I do. And if you have forgotten how then don’t worry, I will remind you.’
‘Stefano!’
‘You’re being honest, so I will be the same. I am Italian and you are extremely sexy. But I’m willing to delay that part until you feel a little more comfortable with me. Then we’ll see. Perhaps you will decide you’d like hot sex for Christmas after all.’
The colour poured into her cheeks and she closed her eyes. ‘So you did overhear our conversation.’
‘Anna has a loud voice.’
‘And she was voicing her own opinions, not mine,’ Liv said in a strangled voice. ‘I can’t think of anything more horrifying than having hot sex with you—’
‘Grazie.’
She covered her face with her hands. ‘That didn’t come out the way I meant it to come out. You must know how attractive you are—you don’t need me to tell you that. It’s just that—’
‘You’re a nervous wreck,’ he said, watching her with a faint hint of amusement in his lazy dark eyes. Unlike her, he was totally at ease with the conversation and with himself.
Her hands dropped to her sides and she gave a little shake of her head, knowing that whatever happened nothing would give her the courage to take her clothes off in front of this man.
‘You don’t want to go to a bed with a woman who eats chocolate log at ten in the morning.’
A slow, dangerous smile spread across his face. ‘If you think that, tesoro…’ he breathed gently ‘…then you truly know nothing about men. Being tempted by chocolate log in the morning, suggests a hedonistic, passionate nature and a real enjoyment of the good things in life. I look forward to uncovering more of this hidden side to you.’
The thought of him uncovering a single inch of her made her shrink with mortification, but at the same time her pulse was racing and her entire body was warm.
‘Do you want to come and play football?’ If there was one thing guaranteed to stop him looking at her in the way he was, it would be the sight of her shivering in goal with pink cheeks and blue lips.
He rose to his feet. ‘Now that’s an invitation I definitely can’t refuse.’
It was the most entertaining day he’d had since his arrival in England.
The ground was hard and covered by frost, but Max sped down the field with the ball and kicked it into the goal. With whoops of joy he retrieved the ball and threw it to Stefano.
‘Did you see me? Did you see me?’ He was dancing on the spot with excitement and Stefano grinned.
‘Great shot. But watch the position of your body,’ he instructed, lining up the ball and demonstrating. ‘Now you try.’
Max paused, distracted by two fire engines that raced along the nearby road, lights flashing, horns blaring. ‘Wow,’ he breathed, ‘they’re going so fast.’
Stefano glanced at them briefly and then took the opportunity to look at Liv.
She was standing in goal, occasionally shouting encouragement to her son. Her hands were in her pockets to keep them warm and she always seemed to move a few seconds after the ball had landed in the goal, but she was clearly doing her best.
And it was obvious that she hated football.
Stefano felt something shift inside him.
Offhand he couldn’t think of a single other woman who would be prepared to spend an entire Saturday shivering, while a small boy kicked a ball into a net.
Yet she hadn’t complained once, despite the fact that she was obviously freezing cold.
She’d changed out of her pyjamas into a thick wool sweater and a pair of jeans, but even with her wool coat and the addition of a thick scarf, he knew that she wasn’t moving around enough to be able to stay warm. Her cheeks were pink, her lips were blue and suddenly he wanted to tackle her to the ground and warm her up in the most basic way known to man.
‘Time for a break,’ he called to both of them and