She took a deep sip of orange juice, then headed outside for the verandah where she intended to sit on one of the rocking chairs.
When she opened the front door however, she caught Luca in the act of raising his fist to knock on the door.
“Oh!” she blurted out, surprised to see him. His eyes widened then his nostrils flared as he traced his gaze over her. Not stopping as he took in every single inch of her in the white bikini.
Everything was on display. The rounded curve of her belly, strong thighs, her long legs, the deep swell of her breasts…
She watched him take her in, then saw him swallow.
Good.
This desire was most definitely mutual.
As the thought registered, she slapped herself mentally.
She didn’t want anything mutual with any man, thank you very much!
The thought had her stiffening and straightening her shoulders.
“Luca?” she asked, wondering if he was ever going to take those hot, bright eyes off her body.
Jesus, he was fine. So tall with a strength that spoke of brute force rather than a gym bunny’s. He looked like what he was—a man smart enough to capitalize on his hands. This place was beautiful, and he’d created it with those talented, callused fingers.
God, what would they feel like on her body?
Like heaven?
It was her turn to swallow, and she knew her eyes were dilating as she stared deeply into his. He had the face of a fallen angel, and it
was more than she could stand when he gritted his teeth… the act was almost defiant.
Like he was holding himself back from doing something he wanted to.
Doing her?
Is that what he wanted? Like she wanted him?
She gnawed at her lip, watched his gaze glue itself to the fleshy morsel, and quickly stopped. She cleared her throat instead and asked, “Is something wrong?”
He blinked at her, looking as dazed and as dazzled as she felt. “No. Nothing’s wrong,” he immediately told her. “I just…” It was his turn to clear his throat. “Needed to tell you about the food. If there’s any special requests, just let me know. Davos will return in three days’ time with fresh supplies. I call him with a list of things you need.”
April smiled. “That’s what I call service.”
He didn’t smile back. His eyes burned so hotly she feared for her bikini—could that look melt fabric?
“Out of curiosity,” she started, when he didn’t reply to her teasing statement. “What if a guest wants a live-in housekeeper and cook? A lot of my clients aren’t exactly the peeling onions kind of people. Some might bring their own staff, but others might not want to.”
Luca shrugged. “I have a cousin who will come and stay and see to their needs.” He shrugged. “She is supposed to start in three weeks’ time when I have your client arriving. But when your partner called and told me you wanted to check out the accommodation, I figured if you needed that assistance, I can help. She won’t be available until the guest arrives, she’s working out her leave with her current job.”
That was probably the most he’d said to her since she’d arrived, even when he’d been showing this place off it had been more of him pointing and grunting than anything else, and goddammit, his voice! Jesus. It was somehow tuned to her body in a way that drove her insane.
The low timber was husky and tinged with an accent that made her want to slip her hands down her belly, dip underneath her bikini bottoms and play with the wetness that had gathered there since his arrival.
She should not be feeling like this, she knew. Not after what that rat bastard had done to her. But it was hard to even remember Mark’s face when Luca was standing here, looking like a hero from a romance novel.
She gulped. “That’s cool, and I can manage. I’m sorry we inconvenienced you.”
“You didn’t,” he told her shortly. “If your service chooses to recommend my villa, it will be a blessing.”