An Inconvenient Desire Read online

  “I’m just trying to get into the medieval spirit.” He searched her face to gauge her mood. He’d had enough bitchiness from his ex. He wasn’t going to put up with it from a woman he wasn’t even dating, no matter how much he owed Sophia. Olivia winked at him and his tension fled.

  “I was never good at history in school, but I’m pretty sure medieval people didn’t get from one place to another in this kind of vehicle. I’ve never even seen one before. What is it?”

  “It’s an Alfa Romeo 8C Spider. I, uh, borrowed it for a few days.” He didn’t think Olivia was a gold digger, but old habits were hard to break. “Do you want me to put the top up?”

  “Oh, no. I’ve got my hair up so it should be okay. Even if it takes a week to get the tangles out, it will be worth it.” She ran her hand along the dash and then settled back into her seat with a contented sigh.

  His ex-wife would have insisted on the top up, in case the wind dislodged even one hair. But then he’d have waited an hour or more beyond the agreed upon time as well. Olivia was nothing like Celeste, and therefore he had no defense against her.

  Jonathan slid behind the wheel and soon they were on the motorway. He resisted the urge to check out the car’s powerful engine, content instead to enjoy the journey and get to know the woman next to him. He wracked his brain for a topic of conversation that didn’t revolve around how good they could be together naked.

  He finally settled on, “You didn’t get a chance to answer yesterday when I asked. How long are you planning to stay in Italy?”

  She pulled a wisp of hair out of her eyes before answering. “I’d originally thought a couple of weeks. But now that Sophia is away I may stay a little longer so we have some time together once she gets back. How about you? Are you making Italy your permanent home now?”

  “No, I have to go back to London in a few weeks. I took a year-long sabbatical from work and it’s almost up. Besides, the renovations on the house are nearly complete. Once that’s finished, there isn’t anything else to keep me here.”

  “I bet it’ll be hard to leave your beautiful house here. Are you going to use it as a vacation home?”

  “I’m not sure yet. I’ll keep it for a while, and if I don’t find I use it much then I’ll probably sell. Mind you, I have enough family, and once they’ve seen it, I’ll be lucky to get a weekend or two to myself.” He could just imagine his nieces and nephews frolicking in the pool while his siblings and their spouses sipped wine on the terrace at the end of the day. For a split second, a hint of longing for that type of domesticity swept through him. But he’d had his shot at marital bliss and failed miserably.

  “You come from a large family then?” She sounded almost wistful.

  “Yes, I have an older brother and sister and a younger sister as well. The older two are married and have seven children between them. My younger sister is engaged, and I’m pretty sure she’ll be adding to that number soon. When we’re all together you can’t hear yourself think. What about you? Do you have a large family?”

  He glanced over and saw a flicker of pain in her features. She crossed her arms and rubbed them as though cold. “No. I have no one. Just Sophia.” Her voice was flat and she stared out at the passing scenery, avoiding him.

  “Well, you’re welcome to some of my family,” he joked, trying to lighten the mood. She didn’t laugh and he mentally added family—and sex—to the list of subjects to avoid.

  “So, what do you know about this festival we’re going to? I’m afraid I didn’t pay much attention when Sophia was talking about it.”

  He told her about some of the area’s history and a few things they could expect, based on his Internet research. He skipped the bit about looking it all up in the middle of the night when he couldn’t sleep for thinking about her.

  She’d relaxed again. Her hand rested casually on her thigh and tapped out the beat to a song on the radio.

  “Do you like history?” She stiffened when he asked the question.

  “I wasn’t a very good student in school. Too distracted by stuff going on in my personal life. I regret now not learning more about people and places. It probably would have taken my mind off ... things.” Her voice was low and once more she turned her head away from him.

  Okay, add her past to his list of taboo discussion topics. He put a hand over hers and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Well, I’m not sure how historically accurate today will be, but it should be fun.”

  He was rewarded with another of her devastatingly beautiful smiles, even if this one appeared a little forced. She seemed able to hide her true feelings behind a smile. It was impossible to tell where you stood with a woman like that. If he wasn’t careful, he’d find himself in over his head. He reaffirmed, in his mind at least, that he needed to tread carefully. Now, if only he could get his body on board.

  • • •

  Olivia fell into step beside Jonathan and concentrated first on putting one foot in front of the other. When she figured she had that mastered, she worked on getting the nerves in her body to stop focusing on every move her companion made. She moved her bag to her other shoulder so it was between them, in the vain hope it would stop her from rubbing against Jonathan.

  When she’d opened the door this morning, his hair had still been damp from his shower, and his eyes had a slight sleepiness to them that made him even sexier. Tan chinos emphasized his long legs and the blue shirt, with the top two buttons undone, enticed her to undo the rest of them—to run her fingers through the light dusting of chest hair ... Damn, this wasn’t helping.

  As they moved closer to the village center, the crowds became thicker and it was impossible not to brush up against him. To keep her mind—and body—off Jonathan, she checked out her fellow festival-goers. People in medieval costume and tourists wearing shorts and sandals mingled on the streets, creating an interesting mix of fashion styles.

  The smell of garlic, fresh bread, and lavender filled the air. Children were laughing or begging for sweets, and already exhausted-looking parents were trying to divert their kids’ attention away from the enticing displays of treats. Two men dressed as jesters were juggling various fruits, tossing them back and forth between them, all the while keeping up a sing-song banter in Italian. It was a sensory overload. Olivia forgot about her attraction to Jonathan and concentrated on the scenes around her, snapping photos as each diversion caught her attention.

  Thank God he’d given her a mini history lesson in the car. So much more of the festival made sense. As a teenager, she’d been busy trying to stay alive; history was irrelevant when you didn’t even know if you had a tomorrow.

  Moving away from the center of the village and the mayhem there, they strolled along a street with three-story pastel houses on one side. After ascending a few stairs, they made their way along a passage marked “Via degli Assini.” With houses above and below, half arches let in muted daylight, making it feel oddly intimate. But maybe that was just her imagination.

  “Is it common in Italy to have a covered street like this?” she asked. She’d never seen anything like it in England.

  “I think this was built in the twelfth century to protect the donkeys carrying chalk from the quarry,” Jonathan said.

  She stopped and stared out one of the arched windows and tried to imagine herself there all those centuries ago. Would she have been one of the peasants scraping by for each morsel of food? Or one of the elite, enjoying the riches of the time? She shook her head. Too much thinking wasn’t good for her equilibrium. Today was for fun. She was going to put aside everything, including her inconvenient attraction to this man, and concentrate on enjoying herself.

  “Where do these stairs go?” She stared up the steep concrete steps that wound along the side of a tall hill.

  “Shall we find out?” The mischievous smile he gave her set off another slow burn in the pit of her belly.

  Friend of a friend, friend of a friend, she repeated with each step. If Sophia could be Jonathan’s friend
, surely she could as well. Although, in her defense, Sophia already had a gorgeous man in her life. Olivia had never really had a male friend. But she was going to give it her best shot.

  “Wow,” she exclaimed as she made it to the top, slightly out of breath. From the fortress you could see miles in each direction. An odd clock on a tower caught her attention. “How do you tell the time when there are only six hours on the face of the clock? Do you think it makes the day go faster or slower?”

  Jonathan glanced at his own watch. “Hopefully slower. It’s half past eleven. After we’ve taken some photos to show Sophia and Luca what they missed, why don’t we get lunch? It’s a bit early, but then we can beat the crowd and look around the market later.”

  As if on cue, her stomach grumbled. She’d had only an apple that morning. “I guess that seconds your suggestion.” She lined up a picture with Jonathan and the odd clock. “No, don’t stand like that, you look like you’ve got a pole up your backside.” He made a face and she snapped the picture. “Now you look like you’ve sat in something wet and squidgy.” She took a few more shots while he displayed a huge range in what appeared to be a constipated repertoire. “I don’t know what you do for a living, but if you ever want to give up your day job you could get advertising work for a laxative company.” He then went on to portray looks of immense relief causing her to laugh too hard to hold the camera steady.

  “All right,” he said. “Show me how it’s done then.”

  They switched places and she struck some silly poses as he snapped away. A small crowd started to gather. Last thing she needed was for one of these ridiculous shots to show up on the Internet. Time to put an end to this impromptu photo-shoot. So she turned slightly away, then looked straight back at Jonathan with her signature come-ravage-me look. More than one camera clicked. Jonathan appeared shell-shocked. For the first time he seemed to notice the group behind him.

  “I need to eat,” he said as he pocketed his phone.

  He took her hand and led her back down the steep stairs. Was he practicing chivalry again? Making sure she didn’t fall? Or was he making a point to the other men who had taken her photo that she was with him? For the moment, she didn’t care about his motive, just enjoyed the skin-on-skin contact. But that led her to thoughts of other body parts touching.

  Was Jonathan worth lifting her “no man” declaration? He seemed worthy. But her choices in men so far had proved absolutely abysmal. So obviously she wasn’t a competent judge. They’d all seemed so nice at the start. Especially Stuart, the last guy she’d dated. However, he’d turned out like all the rest—a long line of losers who thought that she earned enough so they didn’t have to work. Lazy bastards. They’d only been interested in their own comfort, their own needs. Not one had considered that standing for ten hours in six-inch heels was not a cakewalk.

  More than once she’d come home exhausted and been expected to cook a meal, perform a striptease, then shag them until they fell asleep. And that list didn’t include Jeffery, the boyfriend who questioned everything she ate, commenting on how it would ruin her figure and destroy her chances of making it big. She dealt with enough body-image issues already; she didn’t need someone at home adding to that.

  No, she needed all her energy to build her career so she’d have the clout and money to start an outreach program for at-risk teenage girls. She wasn’t going to jeopardize that for any man. Even Jonathan.

  • • •

  “What would you like to eat?” Jonathan peered over the top of his menu.

  She glanced at the options. “Something local. No point coming to Italy to have something I could get at home.” She snapped her menu closed. “Would you order for me? I like a surprise.”

  For a second he wondered what her reaction would be to the surprise of him kissing her. He’d become fascinated with her lips now that the lip gloss had worn off, leaving their fullness begging him to taste her. The waiter approached and Jonathan concentrated on the day’s specials. “Well, I’m not exactly sure what we’re getting,” he said a few minutes later as the waiter left with their order. “But he assures me it will be good.”

  The server soon returned with two steaming bowls of tortelli in broth. Olivia closed her eyes at the first mouthful. “Oh, this is good,” she said on an exaggerated exhalation with feigned rapture.

  Every muscle in his lower half clenched. He reached for his glass of Lambrusco, downing half of it in one go. Damn, what he’d give to create a similar expression on her face. If he were a smart man, he’d delete that last photo from his phone without looking at it. Her sexy look had hit him straight in the stomach.

  Desperate for a distraction, he pulled out the festival guide. “What do you want to do this afternoon?”

  They discussed the various options and formed a plan of action.

  Eventually, the waiter removed their bowls, his barely touched, hers empty. A few minutes later, two plates of grilled meat in a dark sauce were placed in front of them.

  Olivia put a forkful in her mouth and chewed pensively. “This is delicious but I’m not exactly sure what it is,” she said.

  The server, who was refilling their wine glasses, answered in Italian. “Rabbit in balsamic vinegar sauce,” Jonathan translated. He waited for the explosion.

  “It’s fabulous,” she said, savoring another mouthful. “Don’t you like it? You hardly ate any of your pasta and now haven’t touched your main course yet. Is everything okay?”

  “Better than okay.” He picked up his knife and fork, making more effort to act like he wasn’t about to burst into flame. “I’m happy that you’re enjoying it. A lot of women I know would have run screaming from the room after being told they were eating rabbit.”

  “Not me.” She put another forkful into her mouth and chewed like it was the best thing she’d ever eaten. “I’m a model and have to watch everything I eat. On the rare days like today, when I let myself take a break, I really appreciate food.”

  His fork froze halfway to his mouth. He put the utensil down, no longer hungry. “You’re a model?”

  “Yes. But I’m on holiday so I’m letting myself have a few days off my constant diet. Besides, with all the walking we’re doing today plus the pool at Sophia’s, I figure I’ll be able to work off the extra pounds without too much difficulty.” She reached for a slice of bread, tore off a chunk and dipped it into the sauce before popping it into her mouth.

  He forced himself to take a mouthful, but it could have been cardboard soaked in motor oil for all the pleasure he took in the food. “What kind of modeling do you do?” He held his breath, waiting for her answer.

  “Mostly catalogue, some advertising. I don’t really have the figure for catwalk work. Designers want waif figures for their clothes. My curves are a disadvantage.”

  There was absolutely nothing wrong with her curves, in his opinion. “Do you have many friends in the industry?”

  “A few. I’m not into partying, drinking, or drugs. After a photo shoot or show I usually just go home. I have a few designer friends, but Sophia is the only person I’m really close to.”

  “Do you know Celeste Nichols?” He took a deep breath.

  “I’ve heard of her, but I don’t think we’ve met in person. She’s way above my league. She’s a catwalk model who does the big shows. Why? Is she a friend of yours?” Olivia put her fork down as well.

  “She’s my ex-wife.”

  Chapter 3

  Olivia picked up her fork again and concentrated on the food in front of her. Except now it tasted of nothing. Jonathan had been married to one of the world’s most beautiful women. They would have made a gorgeous couple, both blond and blue-eyed. She pushed her plate away and took a sip of her wine, hoping the alcohol would dull the sense of loss. It was stupid. They’d only met yesterday. They were barely friends, never mind lovers, and yet she felt disappointed. She’d never be able to compete with his ex-wife, even if she wanted to.

  Okay, maybe she wanted to. Just a l
ittle.

  “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to freshen up.” She picked up her bag and fled to the ladies’ room.

  Ten minutes and a stern pep talk later, Olivia returned to find Jonathan staring off into the distance. He snapped out of his trance as she approached.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yes, fine,” she replied and put on her best photographic smile.

  “I paid the bill. I assumed you didn’t want coffee or dessert, but if you do, I can call the waiter back.”

  “No, I’ve eaten enough, thank you.”

  His eyes didn’t meet hers. And as they wandered back out to the street, he didn’t take her hand again, as he’d done earlier when they descended the stairs after their little photo session up on the hill.

  “Let’s check out the market,” he said. “I’d like to buy something for Sophia for all the help she’s given me in decorating my house.”

  “How could I say no to shopping?” She forced her body to relax. So what if he’d been married to Celeste. He wasn’t any longer.

  They wandered the market stalls where colorful ceramics and mosaic plaques competed with paintings and knitted crafts for her attention. She was careful to avoid touching Jonathan. But every once in a while she’d catch a whiff of his citrusy aftershave, or something particularly amusing would catch his eye and his firm lips would curve up in a smile. And the slow burn in the pit of her stomach would flare up again.

  A table of exquisitely carved marble statues caught her eye and she went to investigate. Mothers cradling babies and lovers embracing seemed to be the artist’s favorite subject. Olivia ran a finger over the smooth figures of an entwined couple.

  “I like that one, too.” Jonathan’s voice dragged her mind away from a vision of the two of them in such a pose.

  “It’s beautiful. But I’m not sure it’s an appropriate gift to give a friend.”

  He looked at her blankly for a moment. “Oh, Sophia. Yeah. How about one of those mosaic things for her garden?”