The fresh, sweet scent of her hair when he woke up beside her in the morning, the sound of her voice as she chatted away about everything and nothing, even the stubborn tilt of her chin and the compassion in those deep blue eyes when she had tried to insist he go to that stupid Christening.
He’d become so enthralled he’d gone to the office this morning just to prove he could. But the plan had backfired—because he hadn’t been able to stay away. And then he’d found her on the sun-lounger, her skin pink from too much sun, and he hadn’t been able to keep his hands off her.
They’d nearly made a spectacle of themselves in front of Carlotta. And, while he’d found Issy’s outraged dignity amusing at the time, it didn’t seem all that funny any more.
But the worst moment had come when she’d announced she was going to book a flight home. He’d actually felt his stomach tighten with dread. And it had taken a major effort not to let the panic show.
He never got worked up about women. But he’d got worked up about her.
He walked towards the guest suite, steadfastly resisting the urge to join Issy in the master bath. He needed to take a break, because ravaging Issy senseless wasn’t turning out to be the cure-all he’d been hoping for.
He frowned as he entered the bathroom of the guest suite.
Maybe that was the problem. He wasn’t used to sharing his home with the women he dated, having unlimited sex on tap. As soon as the novelty wore off he’d be able to let Issy go with no trouble at all. And everything would be back to normal. Getting her out of his system was just taking longer than originally planned.
He reached for the shower control. A trip into town might be just what he needed.
He never would have believed it, but maybe you really could have too much of a good thing.
‘You want to go where?’ Gio’s fingers clenched on the Ferrari’s steering wheel as all his positive feelings about their afternoon out crashed and burned.
‘I have the address right here.’
He watched, stunned into silence, as Issy pulled the christening invitation out of her handbag and reeled off the address.
‘You were right,’ she chirped. ‘It is in San Giminiano. And I’ve got my posh frock on, just like you suggested. So we’re all set.’ She smiled, looking deceptively sweet as she pressed the button on the dash to bring up the car’s inbuilt navigation system. ‘Shall I programme the GPS?’
He shoved the panel back into the dash. ‘We’ve already had this conversation. We’re not going,’ he said firmly, prepared to argue the point if she decided to sulk.
But instead of the expected pout she simply stared at him. ‘You said I could choose. I choose to go to your cousin’s christening.’
There was that stubborn little chin again. And it wasn’t enchanting him any more.
‘He’s not my cousin.’ Why couldn’t she get that through her head? ‘He’s nothing to me. None of them are.’
‘If that’s the case, why are you so frightened of paying them a visit?’
‘I’m not frightened.’ She’d accused him of that before, and it was starting to annoy him.
‘Then prove it,’ she said softly.
He opened his mouth to tell her to go to hell. He wasn’t ten any more, and he didn’t take dares. But then he saw the sympathy, the understanding in her eyes, and the words wouldn’t come.
He cursed under his breath. ‘Okay, we’ll go to the christening.’ He flipped up the GPS. ‘But you’re going to be bored out of your brain. I guarantee it.’
As he stabbed in the co-ordinates, she leaned across the console and kissed his cheek.
‘No, I won’t be. And neither will you.’ Her fingers touched his thigh, stroked reassuringly. ‘It’s going to be an experience you’ll never forget.’
I know, he thought grimly, as he gunned the engine.
CHAPTER EIGHT
‘GIOVANNI, mio ragazzo. Benvenuto alla famiglia.’
Issy blinked away tears, hearing the gruff affection in the elderly man’s voice as he threw his arms wide to greet his long-lost nephew.
Stiff and hesitant in the designer suit he’d worn for a different occasion entirely, Gio leant down and accepted the kisses Carlo Lorenzo placed on his cheeks. The old man chuckled, then clasped Gio’s hand with gnarled fingers, talking all the time. Issy hadn’t a clue what was being said, but she could guess from the confusion on Gio’s face and his short, monosyllabic answers that Carlo was as overjoyed to see him as the rest of his family.