‘You really love her, don’t you?’ Carly asked softly.
Max’s green gaze shifted up to her. Emotion filled his eyes. ‘Sometimes...sometimes I’m afraid...’ Max trailed off. Carly held her breath, waiting for him to continue.
They both jumped at the sound of shifting pebbles behind them. When they turned they found Valentina staring in their direction, her expression unreadable.
She and Max jerked away from one another, Isabella waking in the process. She gave a little whinge, but then as she grumpily sat up in Max’s lap her scowl morphed into a shy toothy smile when she spotted Valentina.
Valentina bent down and held her arms out wide to Isabella. Isabella clambered off Max’s lap and tottered towards her grandmother.
Valentina hugged Isabella, pressing tiny kisses against her cheek before taking her hand and leading her down towards the picnic blanket. Carly and Max had already sprung up from the blanket and were standing far apart from one another.
Max stepped towards Valentina, who eyed him cautiously.
Footsteps on the path down from the villa had them all turn to see Giulio making his way towards them.
Max looked at his watch. ‘I wasn’t expecting you until lunchtime. If I had known you were coming earlier I would have made sure to have been up at the villa.’
Giulio’s gaze flicked towards his wife and then upwards, his head shaking as though to say, I told you so, but then his expression softened and he crouched down next to Isabella. ‘Valentina couldn’t wait to see Isabella again. We tried calling you to say we were coming early but you didn’t answer,’ Giulio said, poking Isabella affectionately on the belly with his index finger. ‘Cuore mio, come va?’
Isabella giggled and held onto Giulio’s finger. Giulio made a big act of struggling to get his finger back out of Isabella’s grip, much to Isabella’s amusement.
Carly stepped back from the group, feeling wrong-footed that Max had not mentioned the Ghiraldinis were calling. Valentina frowned at her movement. Carly bent down and began to tidy their picnic tray.
‘The renovations, your new boathouse, all very impressive, Max,’ Giulio said a little gruffly.
Max’s only response was a quick nod of his head in acknowledgement.
Carly cringed at the awkward silence that followed and only ended when Max said a little unenthusiastically, ‘Luciana won’t have lunch ready for another hour—would you like to join us in our picnic?’
Giulio eyed the blanket as though it were an alien concept to sit on the hard surface of a beach to eat.
‘Thank you for your lunch invitation, Max,’ Valentina said in a low voice, ‘but if it’s okay with you we would like to bring Isabella back to Villa Fiori for the afternoon. The rest of the family would love to spend some time with her...’ Valentina paused and her gaze ran between Carly and Max ‘...and I’m sure you both could do with a break.’
Giulio looked at his wife in puzzlement, obviously only hearing now this change in plans, but his expression soon changed to one of pleasure at the prospect of having Isabella for the afternoon.
Carly willed herself not to blush. Valentina’s gaze was a knowing one, giving a whole different meaning to her words. A meaning that had Max work his jaw. ‘I’m sure you’re busy preparing for the wedding tomorrow. There’s really no need.’
Valentina, still holding Isabella’s hand, moved closer to Max. She gave him a gentle smile. ‘It might be a long time since my children were this age, but I remember how exhausting it is, especially when they aren’t sleeping through the night.’ Her voice dropped low. ‘Let me help you, Max. Please. It’s important to me.’
Max’s head bowed at Valentina’s words but then he slowly nodded his head.
Valentina reached out and held his forearm for a moment. ‘Thank you. I will drop her home about seven.’ Valentina’s gaze shifted towards Carly. ‘Has Max taken you to see any of the other lakeside villages yet?’
Carly hesitated for a moment, not sure how to answer. ‘No...not yet.’
Valentina looked at Max. ‘You should take Carly on a tour of the lake this afternoon.’
Giulio cleared his throat. ‘I’m sure Max has work to do.’
Carly added, ‘I need to buy a dress for the wedding tomorrow. I’m going to cycle into Bellagio.’
Max picked up Isabella’s changing bag from the blanket, clearly wanting to change the subject. ‘Why don’t we go back up to the villa? I’ll need to give you some of Isabella’s things and run through her routine with you. She’ll need to nap around three.’ The four of them walked towards the path back up to the villa. When Max realised Carly wasn’t following he turned and looked at her with a questioning frown.
Carly gestured to the blanket and tray. ‘I’ll stay here and tidy up.’
Giulio gave a nod of approval but Valentina called out, ‘Have a wonderful afternoon, Carly...and make sure Max relaxes. He works much too hard.’
She watched them climb the path and sighed when they went out of sight. Carly turned to the lake, stretched her arms out wide, opened her mouth and gave a silent scream. This was all getting too complicated. Valentina obviously thought there was something going on between her and Max. And seemed to be encouraging it. Which was so at odds with Giulio’s constant suspicion of her. Admittedly, he wasn’t as hostile now that they had spoken last night, but he was still wary of her.
Picking up the tray and folding the blanket over her arm, Carly walked to the boathouse. At least Max was reaching out to his in-laws. Maybe everything would work out for the best this weekend... At the top of the steps to the boathouse, Carly’s gaze shifted over the lake and then up to Villa Isa. She doddered on the threshold of the boathouse for a moment, wondering how this afternoon was going to pan out. Then she realised she needed to take control of it. Make the most of her time here in Lake Como. She would go for a swim, cool down, and then cycle into Bellagio. Max no doubt would spend the afternoon working. Which suited her perfectly.
* * *
Was he really seeing Carly wearing nothing but a black bikini walking along the jetty? Max edged to the side of the terrace, annoyed at his lack of willpower. Of course, he should turn around and head for his office. But the sight of Carly in a skimpy bikini was way too tantalising.
As she came alongside Alighieri, she stopped to give his powerboat a quick once-over. He could see her ponytail swinging from side to side as she ducked down in her appraisal of the forty-five-foot boat.
Then she moved on further down the jetty, walking close to the edge. At the end of the jetty she came to a stop and peered into the water. He waited for her to turn around. When he saw that she was back in the safety of the boathouse or even on the beach then he would go to his office.
Her body swayed. Dio! She was going to fall in if she wasn’t careful.
She lifted her arms. Max was already running before she dived cleanly into the water.
She surfaced with a yell that echoed up the hill, her arms thrashing the water.
He vaulted over a cluster of terracotta pots and then a low wall, grunting when he hit the path far down on the other side.
He raced down to the beach, all concerns about Isabella becoming too attached to Carly, his discomfort over Valentina’s misguided approval of their relationship, his frustration over how keenly he wanted her physically, vanishing.
Nothing mattered.
Other than saving her.
He cursed when the beach house blocked his view of her. He ran past it, his heart tightening in panic.
He bolted down the jetty.
Carly, lying on her back, was motionless in the water.
He dived in beside her, surfaced and grabbed hold of her, pulling her towards the shore.
With a shriek Carly shouted, ‘Max, what the hell are you doing? You’ve almost scared me to death.’
His ears ringing, he
stopped and shook his head. Carly pushed his hands away from where he was holding her around her waist.
‘You were drowning.’
Sparks flew from her eyes. ‘No, I wasn’t.’
‘Why did you scream and then lie in the water motionless?’
‘I screamed because it’s freezing...’ she flicked some water towards him, splashing him deliberately on the face ‘...and it’s advised that you float when you hit cold water to allow your breathing to adjust. People often drown because they panic and inhale water while hyperventilating.’
‘I thought...’
The anger in her eyes disappeared. ‘Were you trying to rescue me?’
When he nodded yes she tilted her head, a smile of gratitude lighting up her face. And then she was laughing, and shaking her head, her gaze on his saturated tee shirt. ‘You’re soaked through.’
Beads of water threaded her long eyelashes, her cornflower eyes even more vivid with her hair sleeked back, the delicate lift of her cheekbones more pronounced. Her lips were plump and ruby red from the cold.
He cursed silently his lack of willpower. He breathed in time and time again, trying not to speak the words that eventually broke free of him. ‘Vorrei darti un bacio... I want to kiss you...again.’
Her eyes widened. It took a long while before she asked, ‘Are you asking for my permission?’
Her voice was husky and filled with promises that made his head spin. He touched his thumb against her cheek, and then lightly over her lips. ‘I can’t promise—’
Her hand landed on his, stilling his progress. ‘Don’t. I know, I don’t want to hear...’ She trailed off and then her mouth was on his.
It was a lustful kiss. Hot and passionate. Her hands clasped his neck, deepening the kiss. He pulled her in closer, pressing her body against his. Her pebbled nipples pressed against his chest, her legs threaded in between his. He deepened the kiss, began to edge them both towards the shore, using his free arm to pull against the water.
Even in his testosterone-overloaded state he knew he had to get her to safety.
Her body was trembling and as soon as his feet reached the lake bottom, he lifted her into his arms, ignoring her protests as he carried her to the beach.
There he walked directly to the beach house, where he grabbed a towel from the stack of them in the utility room and, wrapping her in it, laid her down on the sofa.
She jumped off the sofa the moment he took a step backwards.
A silence full of questions, uncertainty, desire stretched between them.
An angry sigh came from her mouth. ‘I didn’t need rescuing.’
He should leave, say he had work to do. He shouldn’t be so drawn to Carly Knight. He had nothing to offer this woman who’d had her heart broken by another man and needed to learn to trust again. He knew all that but yet he heard himself say, forcing a lightness into his voice even though his heart was laden down with emotion, his body alive with a physical connection to her, and gesturing to his dripping clothes, ‘You don’t deserve it, but after we shower and change, I’m taking you for an ice cream.’
Carly wrinkled her nose. ‘I have to go and buy a dress for tomorrow.’
‘I’m taking you over to Mantovana. There’s a good selection of boutiques you can visit there.’
Her gaze narrowed. ‘I’m buying the dress myself, Max... There are going to be no arguments today.’
‘Accepted.’ He waited a pause. ‘Now, can I suggest that we strip?’
Her eyebrows shot up. Dio, even though it was wrong of him, he loved seeing her riled, seeing her blush, seeing the flicker of anticipation in her eyes.
‘Strip?’
He went into the utility and gathered up some more towels. He tossed one to her. ‘Strip out of our wet things, of course. We can then go up to the villa to change. I’ll strip in the bathroom—that is unless you need some help?’
She held the towel tight against herself. ‘I’m sure I’ll manage by myself.’
He laughed at her sarcastic tone.
He was about to go into the bathroom, when he stopped and said, ‘By the way, I’ve transferred additional funds into your bank account to cover all of the extra expenses you’ve encountered this weekend.’
She dropped her towel, sighed. ‘There was no need.’
He tried to keep his eyes averted from the heavy swell of her breasts beneath the black bikini top. But in the end he gave up and stared at them, desire pounding through his veins. Carly inhaled a shaky breath. ‘Are we doing the right thing?’
Her voice was low, gravelly. The burn inside him for her upped another notch. He fisted his hands. No, they weren’t doing the right thing, but he could contain this, not allow it all to go too far. He wanted to spend time with Carly. For once forget about all his responsibilities. ‘Do you want to stop?’
She shook her head.
‘Me neither,’ he said.
* * *
Taking a lick of her ice cream, Carly threw her head back in pleasure as the intense but oh-so-smooth dark chocolate hit her palette. She closed her eyes to the vivid blue sky, her bones melting under the afternoon sun.
The heat, the ice cream, the lap of the water against the stone wall she and Max were sitting on, their legs trailing over the side, had her thinking of the childhood summers she had spent on the Kent coast with her parents.
‘È buono...is it good?’
Carly eyed her double-scoop ice cream and shrugged. ‘I’m not sure...you really can’t beat a Mr Whippy.’
Max looked at her aghast. ‘Mr Whippys are nothing but fluff.’
‘They most certainly are not! They’re creamy heaven on a wafer.’
Max laughed, throwing his eyes skywards. Lake Como suited him. He looked incredible in a suit, but the casual clothes of the lake suited him even better. She could imagine him taking long hikes into the hills, thriving in the outdoor lifestyle. ‘Do you think you’ll ever come back here, to Lake Como, permanently?’
Max lowered his pistachio single-scoop. ‘Perhaps.’ His gaze moved across the boats moored in the harbour, out across the simmering lake towards Villa Isa. ‘I like London. The culture, the opportunities there.’
Carly squinted against the glare of the sun. ‘I want to move to the coast. We spent all my childhood summers in Whitstable on the Kent coast. In a few years I want to move there...perhaps commute to London for work when necessary.’
‘What type of house would you live in?’
Carly had imagined herself living in a Victorian redbrick house with tall ceilings and views of the sea from its bay windows. But now she knew differently. ‘Your boathouse transported to Whitstable.’ In response to Max’s surprised look she added, ‘It’s perfect. Full of light and clever designs that means it has everything you need in a compact space—perfect for cleaning.’
Max laughed. ‘You don’t like cleaning?’
‘Or any type of housework, I’d much prefer to be out surfing.’
‘If you find a plot, I’ll design it for you.’
Carly laughed, knowing this was all fantasy but enjoying allowing her imagination to run free. ‘Have you surfed before?’
Max took a bite of his waffle cone and shook his head.
‘You design a house for me and I’ll teach you and Isabella how to surf. Does that sound like a fair exchange?’
She was teasing him, of course—a few surfing lessons weren’t exactly a fair barter for the designs from an award-winning architect.
Max pondered her proposal for a few moments as though seriously considering it. ‘The boathouse has no bedrooms though...are you going for loft-style living?’
‘You can add in a bedroom for me.’
Having finished his own ice cream, Max reached for hers and before she could protest he had taken it from her and was happily licking it. Carly went to gr
ab it but he shifted away. His eyes twinkling in mischief, Max asked, ‘Won’t you want more bedrooms for a family?’
Carly made another lunge for her ice cream but Max held it away from her. ‘If that happens I can extend. Now can I please have my ice cream back?’
Max took another bite, his eyes daring her to stop him. Only then did he pass the ice cream back to her with a satisfied grin. Carly’s insides warmed at the light fun dancing between them and she had the crazy urge to kiss his lips, to taste the ice cream on his breath.
‘Why not simply add the bedrooms when you’re building? It would be more cost-effective and avoids future disruption’
‘Because I might jinx it.’ Seeing Max’s confusion, she added, ‘I’ve stopped hoping for things to happen for me relationship-wise. What will be, will be.’
‘You don’t believe in a proactive approach?’
‘Hah...look where that got me with Robert.’ She paused, and, not sure how Max would respond, mumbled, ‘We met on an Internet dating site.’
When he didn’t respond, she glanced in his direction. ‘There are other people out there, you know,’ he said softly.
Her stomach suddenly jittery, she handed her cone to Max, who took it and bit into it. ‘Maybe.’ She shook her head when Max handed her back the cone. ‘You finish it.’
He ate it all up in four bites. Carly smiled at his enjoyment. She was going to miss him. That thought slammed into her. ‘What about you? What are your dreams for yourself and Isabella?’
Max stood and tossed their paper napkins from the gelateria into a nearby bin. ‘For now, it’s about getting through each day.’
‘What about dating, a new relationship?’ Carly asked, trying to keep her tone light as he sat back down beside her.
‘Not for me.’
Her smile wavered at the certainty of his tone. ‘Never?’
‘Never.’
Carly wanted to tell him that that would be such a waste. He would make some woman really happy. But she was not going there. ‘You must have other dreams though.’
Resisting the Italian Single Dad Page 12
