She shrieked as he thrust one hand under her knees and the other behind her back.
‘What are you doing?’ she said, gripping his neck as he straightened with her wriggling in his arms.
‘Helping you cool off.’
She started to wriggle in earnest when she saw his direction. ‘No. No way. I’ve already had a swim today.’ And the water would feel freezing after she’d been lying in the sun.
Ignoring her protests and her struggles, he hefted her towards the pool. ‘Yes, but I haven’t,’ he said, and stepped off the edge fully clothed.
‘So, is that sunburn or are you still blushing?’ Gio asked, a teasing smile lurking on his lips.
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
He sat at the terrace table, his wavy hair furrowed into slick rows, damp wisps of chest hair visible through the open lapels of his robe.
‘I had no idea you could move that fast.’ He poured a glass of lemonade from a pitcher on the table and passed it to her. ‘I think you may have set a land-speed record.’
She took a swallow of the icy drink to calm the giddy beat of her pulse. ‘It’s not remotely funny,’ she said dryly, trying to control her flush. ‘Your housekeeper will think I’m a tart.’
If she doesn’t already.
They’d been about to ravage each other during their impromptu dip when Carlotta had interrupted them to announce that lunch had been set out on the terrace. Issy had scurried off to the bedroom wrapped in a towel and dying of embarrassment. Gio’s laughter had echoed behind her. She still hadn’t quite managed to get over her mortification.
‘No, she won’t,’ he said lazily, slicing into the veal parmigiana on his plate. ‘She’s Italian. They don’t get as hung up on social niceties as you Brits.’
‘You Brits? Aren’t you half-British?’
He grinned. ‘When it comes to social niceties, I’d say I’m more Italian.’
‘So would I,’ she said emphatically.
He chuckled.
Issy smiled back. But as she crossed her legs and smoothed her robe over her knees the heat continued to burn in her cheeks.
How could she not have noticed Carlotta beside the pool?
And how could she have got carried away like that, knowing there was a houseful of servants who could interrupt them at any minute? Gio had turned her from nun to nymphomaniac in the space of a few days—and it was starting to concern her.
Shouldn’t the passion have begun to fade a little by now?
Gio lifted her hand off the table and linked his fingers with hers. ‘In deference to your British sensibilities, I suggest we retire to the privacy of the bedroom after lunch.’
The familiar thrill shot through her as he pressed his lips to her knuckles. Concerning her even more. Why couldn’t she say no to him? Ever?
Carlotta stepped onto the terrace, holding a small silver tray, and Issy tugged her hand free.
Gio took a large envelope off the tray and thanked the housekeeper. Issy sent Carlotta what she hoped was a friendly smile and the woman smiled back, apparently unperturbed by what she’d almost interrupted in the pool. As Issy watched the housekeeper leave, she wondered how many more of Gio’s sexual escapades Carlotta had witnessed. The instant prickle of jealousy made her frown. This was temporary—with no strings attached. Gio’s other women didn’t matter to her in the least.
‘Dammit.’
At the whispered curse, she turned to see Gio dump a large magnolia card into the wastepaper bin and throw the torn envelope on top.
‘What was that? It’s not bad news, is it?’
‘No, it’s nothing,’ he said as he picked up his knife and fork.
The movement made his robe gape open. Issy pulled her gaze away from the sprinkle of dark hair that arrowed down his abdomen.