‘You’re an amazing kisser.’
He was tempted to suggest that she sample the rest of his skills, but he didn’t want to hear her say no a second time that night.
‘You’re incredibly good to kiss.’
‘Do you know that you talk in Italian when you kiss? You sort of murmur against my mouth and it’s so sexy.’
She was all tousled and warm from his kiss and he wondered if his erection was ever going to subside.
‘It’s my first language,’ he reminded her, grateful that she didn’t speak it. He’d said some things that would have probably have made her run a mile.
‘I love your accent,’ she said dreamily, putting her chin on her palm and staring at him with those huge green eyes. ‘Say something to me in Italian now. Go on—anything.’
He kept his face serious. ‘Cappuccino.’
‘Oh, very funny.’ She rested a hand on his chest and he reached for her and pulled her on top of him.
‘Io voglio te,’ he said softly, and she looked at him curiously.
‘What does that mean?’
I want you.
But he shouldn’t be telling her that. He wasn’t in a position to offer her anything except trouble and hurt.
Suddenly feeling hideously guilty for taking advantage of her, Carlo pulled her close, his voice gruff as he spoke. ‘It means you’re a pretty sexy chick.’
‘Does it?’ She chuckled and leaned forward to kiss him. ‘I’m obviously going to have to learn Italian. Will you teach me?’
‘I can think of other things I’d rather teach you.’ He smiled at her, thinking that she was the most gorgeous woman he’d ever seen.
Flushed and sparkly-eyed and full of humour and warmth.
He never, ever wanted to give her up.
He frowned at his own thoughts. Of course he’d want to give her up eventually. Commitment was the very last thing on his agenda. Circumstances meant that he’d ceased to trust women long ago and he was incredibly wary of relationships.
But this was different because she didn’t know who he was.
‘You look serious all of a sudden.’ Zan looked up at him, her eyes concerned.
He forced a smile. ‘I was just thinking that I start a new job in six hours.’
And his security people would be out there combing the streets for him.
She gasped and glanced at the clock. ‘I’d forgotten about work. You’d better go!’
He bent his head and kissed her gently. ‘Maybe I don’t want to go.’
‘Well, you can’t turn up at the hospital wearing my clothes,’ she teased, her eyes slightly shy as she looked at him. ‘Even if you don’t sleep, surely you need to go home and get changed. Where is home, by the way?’
He hesitated and then rolled away from her. ‘I’m staying somewhere temporary at the moment—nowhere special.’
His brother’s three-million-pound penthouse apartment overlooking Hyde Park.
‘Right.’ She gave him a sympathetic look. ‘Well, that’s not very nice over Christmas. You need a home, not somewhere temporary.’
He pulled his jumper over his head and stared at her. ‘What are you suggesting?’