‘It’s out of bounds.’
‘Can I see it?’ She almost shimmered with excitement and Matteo decided that if he didn’t show her she was likely to break in anyway.
‘It houses millions of pounds worth of equipment.’
‘I want to see it, not steal it.’ She was already sprinting across the grass and Matteo was forced to lengthen his stride to keep up with her. Pausing by the door she almost quivered with anticipation as he pulled out the key.
‘I can’t believe you have your own recording studio.’
He opened the door and heard her gasp as she saw the glass-fronted control room.
‘I’ve died and gone to heaven—if I’d known you had this here I would have kidnapped you and held you to ransom. Why didn’t my research tell me you had this?’
‘Next door is a small theatre with some instruments. There’s a great deal of expensive equipment here which is why we keep it locked.’ His phone rang. Given the state of his arousal he should have been relieved by the interruption but instead he felt a flash of irritation. Seeing that it was his father, he took the call and Izzy made straight for the piano like an iron filing to a magnet.
Listening to his father’s warning that Isabelle Jackson was trouble, Matteo watched her as she stroked one of the keys with the tip of her finger. All she was doing was touching his piano and yet even that movement was sensual.
His father was still talking.
‘I’ve read about her. She’ll try and use you if she can. Exploit the connection—’
Izzy’s head lifted and their eyes met. One look at her expression told him that his father had spoken loudly enough for her to hear his comment that had, unfortunately, been expressed in English. He switched to Italian. ‘That isn’t going to happen.’
Did his father really think the lesson hadn’t been learned?
Without realising he was doing it, Matteo flexed his damaged hand and when he terminated the call, Izzy was still watching him.
‘Just as a matter of interest, does he mean sexually or professionally?’ Her voice casual, she fiddled with the keys of the piano. ‘Because in the interests of full disclosure I ought to tell you that I’m not interested in you sexually because it would mess with my head, but I’d use you professionally in a heartbeat if you’d let me.’
Heat spread through his body. ‘You overheard.’
‘Of course. Kings obviously don’t feel the need to speak in hushed voices.’
Matteo drew in a long breath. ‘My father is concerned about anything that might affect the monarchy.’
‘And one Jackson in the family is enough for anyone.’ Her fingers slid seductively over the keys of the piano. ‘So rock stars come here to record in peace and quiet.’ Her hair tumbled forward, obscuring her features so that it was impossible for him to read her expression.
He didn’t know if she was hurt, offended or angry.
And Matteo didn’t know how he felt either. All he knew was that the air in the studio felt thicker and heavier than usual. Oppressive. ‘Yes, rock stars come here. We have producers and sound engineers. Everything they need. It’s state of the art.’ So was her mouth. And the slope of her shoulders and the smoothness of her skin. And the way those long, smooth legs went on for ever.
He wondered if her parents knew about her tattoo.
‘Could I stay here for a while? I’d really like to play the piano.’
Matteo was still listing reasons why he shouldn’t touch her. ‘You play?’
‘No, I just thought I’d vandalize it. Yes, I play.’ This time there was a dangerous snap in her tone and when she lifted her head to look at him it was matched by the flash in her eyes. ‘Do you even realise how patronising you sound sometimes?’
The room was soundproofed and windowless and as a result there was nothing to distract from the woman—from the subtle floral scent of her perfume that wove itself around his senses and slowly drove him mad. The powerful explosion of awareness confirmed what he already knew—that sexual attraction was no respecter of boundaries.
His phone rang again but this time he ignored it. ‘I am not patronising you, but this place is not a playground. It’s designed for serious musicians.’
‘Ah, and I’m not serious, of course. I’m a joke. A national laughingstock.’ Her tone was brittle, the cheerful smile gone from her pretty face. She stood abruptly and Matteo breathed deeply, telling himself that honesty was kinder in the long run.
‘All I’m saying is—’
‘I know exactly what you’re saying. If you’ll excuse me I’ll find my own way back. Five more minutes with you and I won’t have any confidence left to lose.’ Snatching up her shoes, she stalked past him, her bare feet soundless on the floor. ‘And you can reassure your father that if I want something I am always up front about it. I asked you straight out if I could help with Rock ‘n’ Royal. I call that asking for what you want, but if you want to call that “using” then go ahead. Thanks for the tour. It was really illuminating.’