Sure, a cool voice in her head mocked, if he wanted more, you’d jump at the chance.
‘Buongiorno.’ His deep, sexy voice dragged her eyes up to his. ‘How did you sleep?’
Knowing that she had been caught staring, she felt suddenly shy. ‘Like a log.’
‘Then I must not have been doing my job properly.’ He held his hand out to her, beckoning her into his arms. ‘It’s a beautiful morning; come see.’
Pushing her wistful thoughts to the back of her mind, Poppy slipped into place, relaxing in his solid embrace, her back to his front. His arms tightened around her, his chin resting on the crown of her head. ‘What did I tell you?’
Momentarily confused, Poppy realised he was talking about the view, and she forced herself to focus on the slumbering ancient city as the sun gilded the rooftops bronze and gold. ‘It’s exquisite. Maryann told me it was but I thought she was exaggerating.’
‘Who is this Maryann to you?’ he asked quietly.
‘Maryann is a saviour to me. She lost her husband to cancer many years ago and when she found us we were like lost souls.’ She smiled at the memory.
‘Found us?’
‘Simon and I.’
Sebastiano frowned. ‘How old were you?’
Not wanting to ruin the moment by delving into the past, Poppy spoke quickly. ‘I was seventeen. Simon was seven. Is that the island of Murano over there? I hear they have fantastic glassware for sale.’
Turning her in the circle of his arms, Sebastiano studied her face. ‘Explain.’
Knowing she was thwarted, she pulled a face and let her mind drift back to that awful time, hoping he wouldn’t look at her differently at the end of it. ‘The day I met Maryann, I was at Paddington station trying to find a warm place for Simon to sleep since he was sick and—’
‘Trying to find a warm place to sleep?’ His voice deepened in alarm. ‘Why didn’t you go home? Or to a hospital, if your brother was ill?’
‘I couldn’t go to a hospital because I wasn’t yet eighteen and I was afraid Social Services would separate us.’ She bit her lip. ‘And we didn’t have a home.’
‘Why not?’
She swallowed heavily. ‘The last foster home we were placed in wasn’t great and—I thought
I could do better on my own.’ She gave a self-mocking little laugh. ‘Turns out I was pretty naïve on that score.’
‘Go on.’
‘Do I have to?’
He gave her a look that she knew from working for him scared CEOs and chairmen everywhere.
‘Fine.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘I met a guy on the train to London and I was taken in by him. He was well-spoken and well-dressed and I somehow confided my situation to him. Looking back, I think I wanted to believe that there were good people in the world, so when he offered to help us out by lending us his spare room I jumped at the chance.’
A muscle ticked in Sebastiano’s jaw. ‘I’m not going to like where this story is headed, am I?’
Poppy pulled a face. ‘Suffice to say he wanted payment for the room, but not of a fiscal variety, and I told him I wasn’t interested.’
‘What did the lowlife do then?’ His voice was so deep, Poppy blinked in surprise.
‘He forced me to wake Simon and threw us out onto the street.’ She didn’t tell him she had been so foolish she had taken all her money out of her bank account so that Social Services couldn’t trace her and he’d stolen the lot. That was too excruciatingly shameful.
Sebastiano swore viciously under his breath. ‘Maledizione, Poppy, you could have been hurt. Or killed.’
‘It’s just lucky Simon is deaf because he slept through the whole thing.’
‘Your brother is deaf?’ His eyebrows hit his hairline.