‘I could if I were a gentleman,’ Gio told her and shrugged with easy grace. ‘I’m not.’
Temper flashed into Leah’s caramel-brown eyes. She let go of the rail and swam over to the steps in an attempt to reach for the towel lying at the edge. ‘Don’t be a pig!’ she urged.
Gio laughed with genuine appreciation and scooped up the towel, turning his back and extending it behind him.
The water rippled and shifted noisily, and he imagined her climbing out, close enough to be touched, that pale luscious wet body gleaming with water. She plucked the towel from his grasp and stepped up past him, wrapped from shoulder to calf in the largest towel he had ever seen.
‘So, you work for Mr Zanetti,’ Leah recapped, dabbing at her damp face with the loose end of the towel. ‘Are you a member of his household staff?’
‘What do you know about his household staff?’ Gio asked with a frown, wondering what had sparked that incorrect rumour.
‘Only that they travel with him, presumably doing his cooking and driving and whatnot—’
‘This Gazillionaire sounds pretty helpless,’ Gio commented, watching her scoop up her clothes. She was petite rather than tall, but that magnificent head of glossy black curls was spectacular. Add in huge brown eyes, creamy skin, delightful curves and slender shapely legs and she was a remarkably tempting package. Too short for him, of course, because, being six feet five, he preferred taller women and she was a good foot shorter than he was. Only that conviction did not explain why he had got as hard as a rock just looking at her in the towel. She might be small, he conceded, but she was all woman and incredibly sexy.
‘He’s probably too busy concentrating on the tech stuff that makes the money to waste time doing the ordinary stuff for himself,’ Leah contended as she bent to gather up her clothes while wishing that her faded blue undies had not been sitting on top of the pile. ‘And maybe hecan’tcook or drive. Not everyone can. I’m a demon behind a steering wheel but I can’t cook for peanuts...’
‘I’m an excellent cook,’ Gio told her, crossing the floor to yank open a door almost concealed by the tiles. ‘Changing facilities in here...’
‘Thank you.’ Leah gave him a mischievous smile. ‘You’re more of a gentleman than you think you are.’
‘No, I’m not, but being politically correct around women is safer these days,’ Gio fired back without hesitation.
Leah vanished into a cubicle where the lights fired up automatically and shed the towel, shivering as she climbed back into her clothes, her bra sticking to her damp flesh as she hurried, thrusting her feet into her battered trainers with a sense of relief. Being naked around a strange man in an empty house was unwise. Who on earth was he? Obviously, he worked for the Gazillionaire in some capacity.
‘Are you his cook?’ she asked inquisitively as she emerged from the changing area, breathless and flushed.
On the cusp of announcing his true identity, Gio decided on a whim that was seductively playful in comparison to his usual deadly serious state of mind that he didn’t want to be a cook any more than he wanted to be himself. ‘No, office staff. I’m an executive PA—’
‘I was a PA once.’
‘How did you end up doing this job?’
‘I was a PA for a guy who was hauled away by the police for defrauding thousands of people of their savings. He set up one of those pyramid schemes. He’s in prison—’
‘Patrick Lundsworth?’ Gio incised, mentioning a name that had become a byword for dishonesty and that had been on everybody’s lips only months earlier. ‘How come you aren’t doing time as well?’
‘The police questioned me for two days, but I wasn’t much use to them. It was my first job out of university and I was the office junior. I made coffee, answered phone calls, checked emails.’ Leah grimaced. ‘I wasn’t in on anything to do with his con. I didn’t even meet any of his investors. I was lucky...or so I thought at the time—’
‘But you’ve still ended up cleaning,’ Gio reminded her drily, thinking that she was very innocent and confiding for a woman with a stranger.
‘Lundsworth has proved to be a very serious blight on my CV. I couldn’t get another job in London, so I moved up here to try and get my life sorted,’ Leah explained. ‘And hopefully memories will eventually fade and I’ll be able to get my feet back on the career ladder again.
‘Would you like some coffee?’ she asked as she walked away from him. ‘I’m taking a break before I get back to work.’
‘Not right now. I’m going upstairs to change before I go for a walk on the beach,’ Gio responded.
‘I’ll finish here about six but I’m going to have to come back tomorrow to finish the job,’ Leah advanced uncomfortably. ‘I hope that will be all right. Is anyone else due to arrive before six tomorrow?’
‘No,’ Gio confirmed as he headed towards the stairs.
‘I’m Leah,’ she said quietly. ‘What’s your name?’
Her easy friendliness made his mouth twist. It had been so long since he had had that from a woman. Women always posed with him and played for a certain effect. It was false and it was fake but, in his world, it was a tried and tested female route to popularity with wealthy men. If he told Leah who he was, she would be aghast, apologising all over the place and out of the house within minutes. And, really, what harm had she done? A dip in his pool? A damp towel?
‘I’m Gianni,’ Gio told her truthfully, although it was not a diminutive he had used since his mother’s death. She had named her son for his father, Giovanni, because she had still been in the first fine flush of love back then and she had called her son Gianni to distinguish between them.
‘Have a lovely walk on the beach!’ she urged. ‘I’ve got the staircase to tackle.’