The Italian's Bride on Paper by Kim Lawrence

Author:Kim Lawrence
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2021-06-24T15:41:09+00:00

* * *

Maya was playing catch-up. Caught off guard by the sudden turn of events, her brain had lagged behind. The door was still open and she caught herself actually considering in a half-hearted joking way if anyone would notice if she just slipped away.

Man up, Maya, she told herself sternly. You’re the one who always says face your fears—but her internal pep talk came to an abrupt halt when she realised she didn’t want to know what she was afraid of.

Her eyes went to where Samuele stood looking impossibly handsome. He was smiling in response to something one of the waiters was saying, responding a moment later with a comment that made them both laugh. The informality she had noted since they’d arrived continued to surprise her; she had assumed that he’d be a remote authoritarian employer who demanded deference.

But then he didn’t have anything to prove, did he? He had already their respect, so he didn’t have to demand deference, it was just there. Watching the exchange made her think of the times when her stepfather would get huffy when people didn’t use his full academic title.

She could remember squirming with embarrassment when he would speak over someone with a corrective Professor Edward Tyler.

In the time it took for her thoughts to slide through her head the small table beneath the window had been covered in a pristine white creaseless cloth, the finishing touches of crystal wine glasses and silver cutlery laid with geometric precision.

All impressive, but she barely noticed the crystal or silver; the thing that was registering with Maya was the fact they had laid two places. On one level she was aware that the light-headed fizz of excitement she was feeling at the thought of dining alone with Samuele in her suite was not an appropriate response.

She planted a hand against her throat, feeling the frantic pulse leap and twirl, and wondered if this was what a panic attack felt like, soothing herself with the reflection that even if it was it wasn’t fatal—at least she didn’t think so...

He turned, acknowledging her presence for the first time as the door closed behind his staff. ‘I said we’d serve ourselves.’ He offered the translation even though during her ridiculous panicking she had barely registered they were talking Italian.

‘This is all...’ she paused, clearing her throat as he reached for the bottle in the ice bucket. Popping the cork with a practised twist, he raised an interrogative brow and she hastily added faux-calmly, ‘Very kind of you, but it’s totally not... It isn’t necessary.’ She tried channelling a cool she was a million miles from feeling. ‘I would have been fine with a sandwich,’ she said, allowing her eyes to touch his but not making the mistake of maintaining eye contact.

‘What? And leave you all dressed up and nowhere to go?’

He smiled slowly, and his eyes, as they swept up her body from her toes to her head, left a tingling trail of heat across her skin. ‘You look lovely.

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