Chapter Four
Over the next five days Sonia discovered Renzo was as good as his word, a perfect gentleman. No heated, suggestive stares. No standing too close and making her wary he was about to make a move on her.
It was all very civilised.
Very...disappointing.
For no matter how she tried, she couldn’t shake the memory of that luscious voice, so low it burred along her bones.
If you want pleasure and lots of it.
I’m happy to give you sex whenever you like.
All you have to do is ask.
She wasn’t in the market for romance or sex or any sort of male complication. She’d had enough of that back home in Australia. She was here to build her career, nothing else.
So why was it impossible to forget Renzo’s words? Or the shockingly hot expression in his eyes when he’d spoken them?
They shared an exquisite apartment and with each day Renzo’s consideration, perfect manners and insistence on appearing fully dressed were everything she could wish for in a flatmate.
Weren’t they?
Then why did she feel so edgy?
He treated her like a sister and that should have suited her just fine. That first day he’d taken her for a gelato and a stroll around the neighbourhood so she could get her bearings. He’d then disappeared for the rest of the day and the whole evening, leaving her to wonder if he’d gone out deliberately so she could settle in.
When he’d emerged from his room very late the next morning, there were no suggestive comments. Just a cup of aromatic espresso, silently supplied as she pored over a map of the city. Then, to her surprise, Renzo insisted on taking her out for a lesson in catching the Metro and the local buses. He’d shown her the best places to buy groceries, a dry cleaners tucked away in an alley she’d never have found alone, and a list of other useful addresses. After buying her a lunch of exquisitely cooked seafood, he’d again left her to her own devices.
He was the perfect housemate.
If you discounted the atrocious way he distracted her, without even trying.
Too often today, as she’d worked alongside Roberto, the chief designer for the House of Conti, her thoughts had strayed to dark eyes, to Renzo’s strong hands deftly working the coffee machine. To his laugh as he exchanged pleasantries with the shopkeepers and introduced her. To the deep groove that bisected one cheek when he smiled and which created a telltale flutter in her middle.
Sonia shook herself and concentrated on negotiating the uneven cobblestones of the narrow street leading to the apartment building.
She shouldn’t daydream about any man. There was no time when work was all consuming. She’d been headhunted by the Conti fashion house and had a lot to prove. And to learn. Working with Conti’s head designer, Sonia had the chance of a lifetime. Back in Australia she’d been one woman working alone. This job in Italy was a dream come true.
The hours were long and challenging and she really had to learn Italian. But even after four days on the job she knew she’d done the right thing moving here.
Yet as she entered the old building and made her way to the apartment, her thoughts veered back to Lorenzo Veracini. Would he be home? She felt like she’d been on her feet for days straight but she knew it wasn’t really late by Italian standards.
Disappointment flooded when she entered the apartment to silence. No scent of coffee or tangy male cologne. No lush, baritone voice speaking Italian on the phone and making her insides melt.
Carefully Sonia snicked the door shut and headed towards her bedroom. Renzo had his own life and it was Friday evening. Did she really think he’d spend the end of the working week home alone?
Even if it seemed increasingly as if he didn’t work. Some mornings he didn’t even appear before she left for work and occasionally, when lingering jet lag made her wake in the early hours, she heard him moving about as if he’d just come in. But even if he didn’t have a job, he clearly had money.
One thing Sonia knew was clothing and Renzo Veracini wore the best. His jackets and trousers were made to measure. Even his jeans were designer-made and he wore them with the casual panache of someone born to money.
Was that why he didn’t have a job? Because he didn’t need to? This apartment was luxurious and obviously expensive, but he owned another too.
Sonia hauled her bulky shoulder bag higher and—