Chapter Three
Sonia told herself it was exhaustion that clinched it – the fact she’d travelled halfway around the globe without sleep. She just didn’t have the energy to resist Renzo’s charm, his assurance that she was safe, and his insistence that if she couldn’t stay here with him he’d move into a hotel. Finally she’d caved in.
Plus there was the fact that, when he returned from his room fully dressed to find her sitting, staring at her empty cup, Renzo Veracini kept his distance. No lingering looks, no looming too close. No more flashes of toned, olive skin that made her heat to simmering point.
Briskly, he’d rung several letting agencies and passed the phone to her so she could check if there were any suitable places available. Given her tight budget there was nothing.
Her heart had sunk. She didn’t have time to hunt for a tiny flat, not when she required all her energy for the job of a lifetime she was due to start the day after tomorrow.
‘I know what you need.’ The deep voice was soft as rich velvet.
Sonia stiffened suspiciously. She’d had enough men telling her they knew what was best for her. As a child her unlamented father. Then a series of teachers, bosses and finally Eric. She bristled as she turned to stare at Renzo Veracini surveying her.
But this time there was no speculation in his dark eyes. Nothing but concern.
‘Gelato.’
‘Sorry?’ Sonia lifted her hand and pushed back the heavy fall of her hair. If she had more energy she’d pin it up but even that seemed like too much effort.
‘Make that a shower and a gelato. When you’ve freshened up I’ll take you out for the best gelato in Rome. You’ll feel much better, believe me.’ He strode across to her abandoned luggage. ‘This way.’ Already he was heading down the corridor, carrying everything she’d brought to Rome.
Sonia stumbled to her feet but was too late to stop him. ‘I really don’t...’
Her words petered out as she followed him into a bedroom. He swung her suitcase up onto the bed as if it weighed no more than an attaché case. But Sonia barely noticed. She was too busy taking in the high-ceilinged room with its stunning view of the city.
How was she meant to resist that? This time there were red geraniums in the window boxes, a quaint touch that should have been at odds with the beautifully furnished, modern room in ivory, amber and charcoal tones. Sonia sagged against the doorjamb. There was even a wide desk near the window and a small settee that looked just the place for curling up with her sketchbook.
And that bed. It looked so large and comfortable right now it was almost impossible to resist.
‘You have your own bathroom,’ Renzo said, waving a hand to an open door on the other side of the bed. ‘So you don’t have to worry about us sharing one.’
Sonia blinked as an image slid into her brain. Of Renzo naked under the spray of a massive shower, soaping his body with one hand and beckoning her closer with the other. She could almost feel the steam rising from the hot water. Surely her hair stuck to her nape and temples as if she’d just stepped into the spray?
She swallowed and blinked again, clearing the tantalising vision.
Her addled brain played tricks. Right now her only worry should be resisting the lure of that bed. If she were to beat the jetlag she had to stay awake in her new time zone until it was night.
Renzo moved towards her and a horde of butterflies lifted in her stomach.
‘I’ll wait for you in the kitchen.’ He was already walking past her. Maybe it would have been sensible just to accept the situation. But Sonia had learned the hard way that avoiding difficult conversations only led to trouble.
‘Wait.’
He stopped so close Sonia felt again that unnerving ripple of awareness. This time though, it seemed she was the only one to experience it. Not by a lift of the eyebrow or a hint of a smile did Renzo intimate he felt that zap of attraction.
This was a complete change from the man who’d said he found her attractive. Who’d looked at her as if...
‘Just so we’re completely clear.’ She sucked in a quick, fortifying breath. ‘I’m not interested in romance. I’m not in the market for an Italian boyfriend.’
Dark eyes locked on hers and she found herself wondering what they saw.
‘Thank you, Sonia.’ Her name sounded round and full and far more intriguing when he said it. ‘I appreciate your honesty. In return I can say I’m not interested in romance either.’
‘You’re not?’ The words tumbled out. ‘But...’ She bit her lip.