by Lauren Smith
“Well, hello there, handsome,” Holly breathed as she stared at Carter’s lean, muscled form. Holly offered her hand to Carter as he reached her. “I’m Holly Rossi.”
“Carter Martin. Pleasure.”
“Oh, the pleasure is all mine,” she said with a predatory smile. Carter shook her hand before he retrieved their suitcases from the trunk and followed behind them as they walked inside the house.
“Holly, you’re terrible!” Celia nudged her aunt with an elbow.
Holly looped her arm through Celia’s and leaned in to whisper, “I may be a widow, but that doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate a gorgeous man. Does that make me a cougar?” Holly beamed mischievously at her niece.
“Only if you try to steal him. He’s mine,” she declared with pride and no small amount of possessiveness. At least, he was for now.
“I see…” Holly sobered. “Your father doesn’t know about this young man, does he?”
Celia glanced over her shoulder to make sure Carter hadn’t come in yet, then shook her head.
“Father would kill me if he found out. I suppose you know about my engagement to Callum?”
“Yes, and I take it that engagement is not what it appears to be?”
Celia nodded. “When we have a minute alone, I’ll explain.” She only hoped her aunt would understand.
“I’m sure you will, but I think I can take a guess. We’ll talk later then,” Holly said. Her hazel eyes gleamed with an understanding that only a woman who had defied Celia’s father could have. “You two will have a wonderful time here. I’ll make sure of it.”
As Carter entered, he smiled at her, and it hit her right behind the knees, just like it had for the last nineteen years.
Yes, we will have a wonderful time here.
“Let’s get you settled in your room er…rooms.” Holly winked at them. “Then you two can relax by the pool before dinner. We’ll eat around eight.”
Holly’s villa was a mixture of various old-world architecture and designs, with vaulted ceilings and stones of roughhewn rock mixed with warm buttery yellow painted walls. Paintings dotted the spaces between the rooms, a parade of faces that were sometimes solemn, sometimes full of life. Celia knew her aunt was a lover of the arts, and her home reflected that.
“We can put Carter here.” They stopped in front of a room on the left side of the hall, and Carter carried his suitcase inside. Holly nodded at a door across the hall. “And, Celia, you’re over here.”
Celia bit her lip. She had no intention of sleeping in a different room than Carter, but she could at least leave her things there. Celia picked up her valise and carried it into the room. It had a beautiful queen-size bed with a wrought-iron canopy that looked warm and inviting.
“I’ll leave you two to settle in. Just come down to the pool whenever you’re ready.”
“Thanks, Holly.” Celia hugged her aunt, loving that she was so open and caring, unlike her parents. She could never understand how she and Matthew had come from that union. Her parents were schemers, social climbers, and snobbish. At times, she was filled with rage that they were so focused on society, wouldn’t do their real jobs, wouldn’t take care of their child. No, they made her be the parent, the responsible one, made her be the one to sacrifice her happiness to take care of him.
Well, at least now she had a month to be selfish, to have the one thing she’d ever wanted in life. The one person.
Celia abandoned her suitcase and crossed the hall, stopping in the doorway to Carter’s room. He’d removed his sunglasses and was setting his suitcase on his bed. The lean lines of his tall legs in his jeans made her want to press up against him from behind and just purr. But wanting and doing were two different things. Aside from the one kiss they’d shared at the party and a stolen kiss at fourteen, they hadn’t been intimate in any way. It was nerve-racking. How did a girl handle wanting to jump a man’s bones when they’d known each other all their lives but had only kissed twice?
She walked up quietly behind him and was about to touch his shoulder when he spun, catching her by the waist, grinning.
“Never could sneak up on me, you know,” he teased. His eyes had brightened to an iridescent silvery blue-gray.
She trailed her fingertips along his jaw. For a man without noble ancestry, his face was a thing of aristocratic beauty. He was cut from marble, a sculptor’s dream.
His hands spanned her waist, and she was all too aware she wore only a dress, a simple short-skirted rose dress with a black belt that he could easily push up to her hips. Her knees buckled at the thought.
“Whoa there,” he whispered, catching her as she fell more heavily against him.
“Sorry.” She ducked her head shyly. He was the only man she’d ever met who could make her weak at the knees like that. She’d once had dinner with Prince William and Prince Harry at the peak of their bachelorhood, and she hadn’t been flustered in the slightest, despite how charming they had been. Yet without trying, Carter made her feel like a lovesick teenage girl.
“How’s your room?” He gently pushed her back, the distance a declaration that he wasn’t ready yet—or perhaps he was just giving her time. Either way, her body burned with frustration at the separation. He focused on the luggage, turning away from her.
“Fine, but I was thinking that we don’t really need two rooms.”
Carter had been opening his suitcase, his back partially to her when she said this. His hands lingered on the suitcase snaps before he turned his head toward her, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye.
“We don’t need two rooms?” Carter echoed.
It felt as though they were dancing an old dance, one from a hundred years before their time, where they dared to slide a step too close, their hands lingering, their faces shining, before they had to swirl apart and turn away. They were dancing around the very reason she’d brought him here, and she was afraid to ask for what she wanted from him outright.
“I thought…” She swallowed hard, fighting for breath. Why did this make her so bloody nervous?
“Celia, I know I agreed to come here with you, but before anything happens, I have to be clear. I don’t want to be that man. I know your marriage to Callum will be in name only, but what happens here, this month, that’s all I can give you. We can’t risk anything else. It could ruin your uncle’s reputation and the estate, and it could wreck Callum’s relationship with his parents.”
Celia’s heart froze. “I know. But I need time to make memories that I can carry with me.” Once married, she and Callum would focus on the child he needed and giving that child a happy life, no matter the cost. But this moment right now was her only chance to have a glimpse of true happiness.
“If there was a way you could be with me…if…I could help with Matthew…if I…” He seemed to struggle with the words, and she understood.
“I wish no one had to help me with Matthew. I wish I could afford the tuition myself. And I wish more than anything that you and I…” She couldn’t finish either.
Carter’s hands dropped from the suitcase to his sides as he turned to face her. He nodded his understanding, then turned back to his suitcase and pulled out a pair of swim trunks.
“I need to change,” he said softly. When he didn’t meet her eyes, she managed a weak smile and fled back to her room. She closed the door and leaned back against it, her blood pounding in her ears and her heart aching with sharp pain.
How stupid she was to think this would be perfect. That they could pretend that Callum, the engagement, and her parents never existed.
So much for my last chance at love.
4
Carter stared at the contents of his suitcase, his heart pounding. He was really here with Celia in Italy. For the entire flight he had been in a kind of daze. But now he was here in a lavish Italian bedroom in a multimillion-dollar villa. His blood hummed in his veins, all because Celia was across the hall and nothing stood between them.
I could go to her room r
ight now and… He stopped that train of thought before it rocketed into dangerous territory. He wasn’t some randy teenager. If he couldn’t control his hormones or his lust, he would scare Celia. Not to mention he’d just put the brakes on their relationship seconds ago by reminding her that this thing between them wouldn’t last. Not his finest moment. He’d have to fix that, give her the happiness he’d promised while they were here.
He raked a hand through his hair and closed his eyes as he centered himself. A swim would clear his head. He removed his jeans and boots, put on his trunks and sunglasses, and headed into the hall. Celia’s bedroom door was closed. He guessed she still needed a few more minutes. That was fine. He wanted to get the lay of the land anyway. He’d lived on a big estate his whole life, so he’d learned to familiarize himself with a house’s layout in case he ever needed to know where something was. But now he was supposed to be relaxing and enjoying himself.
You are not the help here. You are a guest.
The voice in the back of his head was right, but he couldn’t shake the urge to get to know all the rooms. But that would have to wait. He wandered back down the hall until he reached the main living room, which had wide open terrace doors that led out to the pool. Carter whistled in appreciation. A long infinity pool stretched along the deck. Beyond it was a scenic view of rolling green-and-gold hills, lit by warm sunlight that painted the world in blazing hues of rich color. The water was a brilliant blue as it reflected the sky.
Holly joined him when he took a step onto the weathered stone deck. “You like it?”
The deck was warm beneath his bare feet, but not too hot. Celia’s aunt was trying to hide a mischievous smile. Carter couldn’t help but think Celia might have been like her, all wild, delightfully rebellious, if she hadn’t gone to a finishing school and spent much of her free time watching over Matthew her whole life. Matthew was a great kid, but that didn’t erase the sorrow Carter felt when he thought of Celia sacrificing her own happiness for him. That selflessness was one of the many reasons he loved her. He knew he was a lucky bastard to have this one month with her. He had to make the most of it.
“This place… It’s…” Carter struggled for words. Holly chuckled.
“I know. Stefano had fantastic taste in architecture.” Her smile slipped a little. She shrugged off her grief and nodded toward a row of deck chairs.
“Grab a towel and a chair. I’ll make us some drinks.” She walked over to a fancy outdoor bar in the pool house at the far end. Carter retrieved a towel from a stack by the terrace doors and headed to the nearest deck chair. He stripped off his shirt and tossed it across the back of his chair and waded onto the top steps of the pool. Once he was waist deep, he plunged beneath the surface and swam a few yards before coming back up. He flicked his hair out of his eyes and noticed someone moving at the open doorway.
Celia stood there, watching him. He noted the red bikini she wore, with a light see-through knit cover-up top that came halfway down her thighs. She wore the cutest pair of wedge sandals with red straps. Was she thinking about him the way he was thinking about her right now? He got hard just imagining those sandals digging into his shoulders while he—
Carter snapped his control back into place as Celia stepped out into the sunlight. Her blonde hair came down past her shoulders in loose waves, like a blonde haired heroine from a Titian painting, and her eyes locked on his as she set her towel down on the chair next to his. She turned her back on him as she slid her feet out of the sandals and lifted her cover off. Carter’s eyes were drawn to her heart-shaped bottom and that little red swimsuit. Completely mesmerized, he leaned against the side of the pool and waited for her to turn around.
When she did, her face was flushed. She rushed to the shallow edge of the pool and ducked into the water. Carter bit the inside of his cheek to hide a grin. Celia had always been modest, shy even. He had never seen her wear anything so revealing before, and clearly she wasn’t used to it. Then he sobered. Was she wearing a sexy bikini because she felt desperate? The thought left a sour taste in his mouth. He didn’t want Celia to feel that way, and yet he feared she did. She’d agreed to marry Callum because he was the safest way to assure Matthew got into Ravenswood. Now she was here, spending her last free month with him.
It was the very definition of desperate.
Carter leaned back, reached for the sunglasses he’d left at the side of the pool, and put them on. The aviators hid his eyes, and he was grateful for the shield. He didn’t want Celia to see his own doubts and worries. He always felt like an open book whenever she looked at him.
She began to swim, performing a perfect breaststroke, coming up wet, her hair slicked back. Drops of water still clung to her dark-gold lashes as she joined him at the side of the pool.
“It’s so beautiful,” she said with a little weary sigh. His heart ached. God, she was amazing, smart, and selfless. She was carrying the weight of her entire family on her shoulders.
Carter’s throat tightened. “Gorgeous countryside. Your aunt is lucky.”
“She is, but she misses Stefano. He was a great guy. I had the fortune of meeting him two years ago when they visited London.” Celia leaned against the pool’s edge next to him, her shoulder almost touching his, but her eyes were looking toward her aunt and the pool house. Holly brought them two mixed drinks, and then with a wink, she headed back into the house.
“I thought Aunt Holly might stay…,” Celia began.
He chuckled. “I think your aunt is giving us some time alone.”
Carter tested the drink, vodka, cranberry juice, and a twist of lime. Not bad.
“Well, she’s awfully sweet. I’ll owe her a dozen favors after this. I can’t believe we’re actually here.” Celia giggled and took a big gulp of her drink. Bigger than he’d expected.
“Steady on.” Carter slipped her glass from her hand and set it on the side of the pool.
She frowned at him. “Hey, I wanted to finish that.” She crossed her arms over her chest, which only accented the tantalizing view of her breasts in that red bikini top.
“We have all afternoon and tonight,” he said as he leaned in and cupped her cheek.
Her lashes lowered. “Carter…” When she said his name that way, full of uncertainty, he understood. This was too fast, and he didn’t want to push her. He only wanted her to be happy.
“Hey, it’s okay.” He pulled her into his arms in a hug. She sighed, relaxing into him, her cheek pressed against his chest. “You call the shots.”
“I’m sorry. It’s just… I’m so nervous,” she whispered. “Can we take it slow?”
He tilted her face up with his fingertips. “We can take it as slow as you want. I’m here for you. Whatever you want, just ask.” He’d take it slow, even if it killed him.
Her lips curved in a teasing grin. “My very own Carter toy, eh?” She brushed a kiss on his cheek and then dove back into the water, swimming away from him. Carter let her go, grinning to himself. Her very own Carter toy? Oh, he would let her play with him any way she wanted.
She swam a few laps, and he finished his drink as he watched her. Then she fetched two pool mats from the pool house and handed him one. They both climbed on the mats, drifting in quiet silence on the surface of the water. Carter tried to relax and let the sun soak into him.
This was a real vacation, something he hadn’t had in years. Being the steward of a large English estate could be very stressful. They needed a third person to help them, but recent cutbacks had done away with that possibility. However, if Carter and Tristan’s plan to get film producers interested in the estate was successful, they might even be able to hire two.
He tried to ignore the twinge of guilt he felt at leaving his father alone. But Tristan had assured Carter that he would help however he could while he was gone.
Carter wasn’t sure how long he dozed before he realized he and Celia had drifted closer. Her hand reached out and grasped his, and he linked their fingers together in the water. A
smile twisted the corners of her lips, though her eyes remained closed.
“Tristan said you got your job at Morton & Ridings,” he said quietly, half afraid he would disturb her peace. “Congratulations.”
“Thanks.” She didn’t open her eyes, so he had a moment to burn the stunning image of her profile deep into his heart. She was a classic beauty, but he’d been with beauties before. What made Celia special was not her pale-pink lips or hazel eyes—it was the way she acted, the things she said and even the way she touched him, as she did now. The entire world seemed to fall away, leaving just the two of them.
He’d spent his entire life feeling less than suitable for a woman like Celia in every possible way. Not handsome enough, educated enough, rich enough, or powerful enough. But whenever he was with her he felt like was more of everything he wanted to be.
“Are you excited?” he asked. She had wanted to be an architect for a long time. Getting her degree had been a struggle because her parents had fought her progress every step of the way.
“I am, but it doesn’t pay as well as I’d hoped. Not yet. But I think they genuinely like my designs.”
Carter tightened his hold on her hand. “You’ve never shown me any of your work. Could I see it?”
Celia opened her eyes and turned her head in his direction. “You really want to?” The shock in her gaze hurt him. She had so little confidence at times. Her parents had done too good of a job convincing her that she had no talent. He’d grown up watching her suffer from the emotional neglect and sometimes even emotional abuse they’d dealt. Luckily, Matthew was in his own world so often he didn’t seem to register that he was a disappointment to them. But Celia was all too aware of how she’d disappointed her parents. She’d suffered the slings and arrows for both of them.
“I’d love it more than anything,” he assured her. “Let’s get dried off, and you can show me some designs.”
He slipped off his mat and climbed out of the pool, retrieving a couple of towels. She met him at the shallow end and took one from him, wrapping it around her body.
