Thankfully, Rigo provided the exit she had been looking for, when he thanked her for giving Antonia such a good day.
‘It was my pleasure. Your sister is wonderful—and in fairness, it was Antonia who went out of her way to give me a good time.’
‘Well, my little sister sees it another way. Come on, we get off here,’ he said, standing up.
‘But we’re not back at the hotel.’ She looked in vain for a landmark she recognised.
‘Pizza?’ Rigo reminded her.
But they seemed to be in the middle of nowhere. Katie frowned.
‘I asked the bus driver to drop us here. Come on.’ Rigo indicated that she must go ahead of him.
She disembarked onto a dimly lit street. Could this be right? Her skin prickled with apprehension.
‘I don’t have a clue where I am,’ Rigo murmured.
But when she glanced at him in alarm, he smiled.
‘You’re teasing me—’
‘Would I?’
She refused to hold that gaze, and stared instead at the bus as it drove away.
‘I haven’t always lived in the best part of Rome.’
She couldn’t resist the hook and followed him.
‘When I left my home in Tuscany and came to Rome I found myself in the Monti—all narrow lanes and steep inclines. It’s where craftsmen ply their trade and there was always plenty of casual work for a strong boy from the country.’
By now she was consumed with curiosity. To learn about this other side of Rigo was irresistible.
‘Is this our destination?’ she said when he stopped walking on the high point of a bridge spanning the River Tiber. As she stared into Rigo’s dazzlingly handsome face, waiting for his reply, she got another feeling—he enjoyed showing off his city to someone who wouldn’t mock him for how poor he’d been. He still liked these offbeat trails to places that held no appeal for the fashionistas.
He was resting his hands on the stone balustrade, staring out across the river. Her heart picked up pace as he turned to look at her. Suddenly it didn’t matter where they were going, and as crazy as it might seem they had reached at least one erotic destination, which was enough for her.
He broke the spell. ‘Come on.’ Straightening up, he reached for her hand and this time she didn’t resist him. She even managed to persuade herself that it made perfect sense for Rigo to take her hand if they had to cross a busy main road. What did she know about Roman traffic? What did anyone know? Even the Romans didn’t know. No one on earth could predict the unpredictable.
She shrank against him, glad of his protection as cars and scooters buzzed around them like angry bees. This contact with Rigo was the most foreplay she’d ever had. On that short journey to safety on the other side tiny darts of pleasure raced up her arm and spread…everywhere.
Rigo led her way up some stone steps that curved steeply around the outside of an ancient lookout tower. A pair of these towers marked either end of the bridge. ‘This is the best place in Rome to watch the fireworks,’ he explained, ‘and it’s free.’
She saw the boy he must have been—a boy who hadn’t wasted time wailing about his fate, but who had squeezed the last drop of enjoyment out of his new life. And the way her heart swelled in admiration was a very worrying development indeed.
At the top of the tower she had to stop to catch her breath and, resting her arms on the warm stone, she leaned over the battlements.
‘Since when can you fly?’ Rigo demanded, pulling her back.
Having someone look out for her felt so good and as he stared down even breathing was difficult. He was close enough now for her to feel his body heat warming her.
She turned away. She wasn’t sure how to deal with her feelings or this situation. She was going home tomorrow. They were complete opposites. This was one casual night in Rigo’s life, but her life could be changed for good—
‘Open your eyes, Katie, or you’ll miss the fireworks.’
There was so much sensation dancing through her veins she barely registered the first fantastic plumes of sparkling colour. And then Rigo reached over her shoulder to point out some more, and as he did so he brushed her cheek. It made her turn and now their faces were only millimetres apart. She looked away, but not quickly enough. A darkly amused stare was her reward. He must know how strongly she was attracted to him. Did he also know how frustrated she was? Or what agony it was for her to be this close to him? Or that he made her body ache with need and longing?
He pulled back when the fireworks were over, allowing her to breathe freely again. She gulped in air enough to say, ‘Thank you for bringing me here.’
‘It isn’t finished yet.’ Spanning her waist with his hands, Rigo turned her to face the river.
There was no way to express her feelings towards what she could see, or what she could sense. Fireworks were falling from the sky, replacing the streamers of moonlight on the river with a dancing veil of fire. And there was fire in her heart.
Leaving the bridge, they walked deeper into the old part of the city. ‘Ancient palaces!’ Katie exclaimed with pleasure, staring about.
‘Once this was a very grand area indeed,’ Rigo confirmed, ‘and now I have another surprise for you.’ As he spoke he opened a street door and a blaze of light and heat burst out.
And good cooking smells, Katie registered, inhaling appreciatively as Rigo held the door open for her. He had brought her to a small, packed pizzeria where the noise of people enjoying themselves was all-enveloping.
‘Don’t worry,’ he said, dipping his head to speak to her when he saw her hesitation, ‘you’ll be safe with me.’
He had also guessed correctly that she rarely went out, Katie thought wryly. She was glad of Rigo’s encouragement.
There was a tiny dance floor on which a number of couples were entwined and a small group of musicians tucked away in a corner. Surrounding this, tables with bright red gingham cloths were lit by dripping candles rammed into old wine bottles.
‘Do you like it?’ Rigo shouted to her above the noise.
‘I love it.’ And she loved the feel of his arm around her shoulders.
The party atmosphere was infectious, but she was shy. Without Rigo she would never have ventured into a place like this. But when she took a proper look around and realised that all the other customers were as down-to-earth as she was, she relaxed. This certainly wasn’t the type of nightlife she had imagined Rigo would indulge in. And she liked him all the better for it.
‘Will you stop trying to tuck your hair behind your ears?’ he said as they waited for a seat.
‘I’m just not used to it hanging loose—’
‘Then you should be. You have lovely hair. Leave it alone,’ he insisted. ‘You look fine. Ah—’ he stepped forward as a portly man dressed in chefs trousers bustled over to them ‘—I’d like you to meet my friend Gino.’
Katie gathered Gino was the patron.
‘Rigo! Brigante!’ he exclaimed, clapping the much taller man on the back. ‘Why is it I can’t get rid of you?’
Katie suspected that both men knew the answer to that, judging from the warmth in their eyes as they stared at each other.
‘And who is this?’ Gino demanded, turning his shrewd, raisin-black stare Katie’s way.
‘This is Signorina Bannister…an associate of mine.’
‘An associate?’ Gino gave Katie an appreciative once-over before shaking hands with her. ‘You must think a lot of your associate to bring Signorina Bannister to meet me?’ He looked at Rigo questioningly, but Rigo’s shrug admitted nothing.
‘Signorina Bannister is in need of real Italian pizza before she leaves Rome. Where else would I take her, Gino?’
‘Where else indeed?’ Gino agreed. ‘And for such a beautiful signorina I have reserved the best table in the house.’
‘But you’re full,’ Katie observed worriedly. She didn’t want to cause anyone any trouble. ‘And how could you know we were coming?’
‘I don
’t need to know,’ Gino informed her, touching his finger to his nose. ‘I keep my own special table ready at all times for my speciale guests…’
Before she could stop him Gino had whisked away her shawl. ‘Oh, no!’ Katie exclaimed, reaching for it, feeling suddenly naked again.
‘You won’t need a shawl here,’ Gino assured her. ‘It’s always too hot in my restaurant—’
‘But I…’
Feeling exposed and self-conscious beneath Rigo’s amused gaze, Katie could only stand and watch helplessly as the burly restaurateur disappeared into the cloakroom with her prized piece of camouflage equipment.
‘Don’t worry,’ Rigo soothed. ‘Gino will keep your shawl safe.’
Rigo saw her comfortably settled and then took the seat opposite, while Katie sat demurely, taking stock of her fellow diners. Every other woman around them had stripped down to bare arms and shoulders.
But they all had flawless skin—
‘Do you mind if I roll back my sleeves?’ Rigo said, misinterpreting her look.
He was halfway through the process and hardly needed her permission. ‘Go ahead.’ She tried very hard not to stare at his massively powerful forearms and concentrated instead on a formidable steel watch that could probably pinpoint their position in relation to the moon. One thing was sure—Gino was right: it was hot in here. Steaming.
‘Ten o’clock.’
‘I beg your pardon?’ Katie swiftly refocused as Rigo spoke.
‘I said it’s ten o’clock. I noticed you looking at my watch.’
‘I was—’
‘Not because you want to go home, I hope?’
Gino saved her further embarrassment, bringing them the pizzas they had ordered. They were delicious. A thin, crispy crust baked just the way she liked it was loaded with succulent vegetables and slicked with chilli oil. Beneath that a yummy layer of zesty tomato sauce was crowned with fat globs of melted cheese. She only realised how hungry she was when she took her first bite—and there was no polite way to eat pizza when you were this hungry.
‘Now you see why Gino and I became such good friends,’ Rigo said, leaning forward to mop her chin. ‘There was always something he needed doing—and I always needed feeding after a hard day of manual labour.’
She could understand how their friendship had been forged. ‘You found a mutual need,’ she said. And could have bitten off her tongue as Rigo’s gaze lingered. ‘Indeed,’ he agreed, sitting back. ‘Napkin?’ he suggested.
‘Good idea…’ Drool was not a good look. She returned her attention determinedly to her food.
‘This is only the first course, to whet your appetite.’
‘Oh, no. I really couldn’t eat another thing…’
‘If you lived in Italy you would soon develop a healthy appetite.’
She had no doubt. But was that wise?
Katie sensibly avoided Rigo’s gaze, reminding herself she was going home tomorrow.
So? Didn’t that mean she should make the most of today?
There was such a festival air in the small bistro Katie was soon tapping her foot in time to the music. Gino had insisted she must try his home-made wine—how right he was. Picking up her glass, she drank the delicious ruby-red liquid down. It was so moreish. Who needed brand names when the house wine tasted like this? She immediately craved more and held out her glass for a refill. ‘It tastes just like cranberry juice—’
‘And packs a kick like a mule,’ Rigo warned. ‘So drink it slowly…’
He really did think of her as a kid sister—that, or an ancient aunt. Of course she would drink it slowly.
Well, she had meant to, but it tasted so fruity and innocent, and one more glass couldn’t hurt her surely?
‘And now you must dance,’ Gino insisted, waltzing past with an armful of plates.
‘I don’t dance.’ She announced this to Rigo, who didn’t seem to care whether she danced or not.
‘Do what you like,’ he said, leaning back in his chair.
It seemed to Katie that the young women at the pizzeria had no inhibitions at all, and that their sole reason for being here was to shimmy into Rigo’s eye line. Something tight curled in her stomach as she watched them flash lascivious glances at him.
‘Well, signorina,’ Gino said on his return, ‘will you make an old man happy?’
It took longer than Katie had expected to focus her eyes on Gino’s face, and even longer to register surprise that he was serious. Gino did want to dance with her. Suddenly Rigo’s warning about the wine made sense. Her head was on straight, but the room was tilting—and now Gino was opening his arms to her.
‘Go ahead,’ Rigo said helpfully as the band launched into a wild tarantella.
Having stumbled to her feet, she barely had chance to exclaim, as Gino, quite literally, whisked her off her feet.
CHAPTER NINE
RIGO cut in.
By the time he cut in Katie was happy to forget her reservations and fall into his arms.
Gino melted away.
Had she been set up? Katie wondered. A bleary glance into Rigo’s totally sober face told her precisely nothing—at least, not in her present state. This was great. She couldn’t dance. She could barely stand up. And Signor Superior had been proven right. The wine had gone to her head. And now she was in danger of making a complete fool of herself.
There was nothing for it, Katie concluded. Before she fell over she had to appeal to Rigo’s better nature—that was, supposing he had one. ‘If you could just get me back to our table…’ When cast adrift in a storm of flying heels and elbows, it didn’t do to stand on your pride.
But Rigo didn’t lead her off the dance floor. Couldn’t he understand? Hadn’t he heard her? ‘I don’t dance,’ she complained.
She got a reaction this time. One inky brow rose in elegant disbelief but, rather than leading her to safety, he tightened his grip on her arms. ‘Everyone can dance, Signorina Bannister.’
‘I absolutely don’t dance.’ And, taking that as her cue, she broke free and attempted to totter back to their table unaided.
Thankfully, Rigo caught her in his arms just as she was on the point of lurching into a waiter. ‘I’m fine.’ She flapped her arms around to demonstrate this.
‘Well, clearly, you’re not.’ So saying, he banded her arms firmly to her body.
‘Let me go.’ Her breath caught in her throat as she stared into Rigo’s amused gaze. ‘I did warn you about the wine,’ he pointed out, keeping a firm hold of her.
Right now the wine was the least of her worries.
And then at Rigo’s signal the music changed abruptly. From jigging up and down like frantic monkeys the couples all around them eased effortlessly into the sinuous rhythm of the rumba.
‘What did I tell you?’ he soothed, murmuring in her ear. ‘You dance beautifully…’
How could she not when Rigo had somehow managed to mould her clumsy body to his? And Rigo could dance.
Oh, yes, he could…
By some miracle she stopped wobbling, and began to move her feet in some sort of recognisable pattern. As long as he didn’t hold her too close she’d be all right. As long as his hands didn’t wander to the scars on her back she could do this.
And now she was even beginning to relax, it felt so safe and good…
Not so her fantasies. They weren’t safe at all. Dancing close to Rigo with all the other couples masking them gave Katie’s imagination all the excuse it needed. She had everything to learn about a man’s body and this was her opportunity.
As the music filled her, her senses grew ever more acute. Her body was like molten honey curling round him until Rigo changed position and her fantasies flew away.
‘What’s wrong?’ he said as she grew tense.
‘Nothing…’ She took a deep breath and tried to relax, but the magic had vanished. Rigo’s hand had slipped into the hollow in the small of her back as they danced and then his fingers had eased a little higher. Good manners for him
not to touch her anywhere remotely intimate, but a danger signal for her, and her head had cleared at once. There was no possibility she could relax now. Even her deepest longings stood no chance against her greatest fear. She wanted Rigo to hold her—she also wanted to be perfect. She wanted to rest unresisting in his arms, and dance and dream, and enjoy herself, but how could she with her scars?
‘Katie?’ Dipping his head, Rigo stared into her troubled eyes. ‘If you concentrate on dancing the rest will follow.’
He couldn’t know how wrong he was. But as he drew her to him there was something reassuring about him. The power of his command and the fact that she didn’t want to make a scene…
His hands slipped lower. Theoretically she should be hearing more warning signals—and this time they wouldn’t be connected with her scars, but her body was clamouring and she didn’t want to fight it. This was like skirting the fringes of a hurricane and, instead of running as fast as she should in the opposite direction, hoping to be swept away by it.
‘Let go,’ Rigo murmured, encouraging her to relax.
But the damage was done and now she could think of nothing but securing her mate in the most primitive way possible. ‘I’m trying to.’
If only she dared.
He was enjoying this far more than he had expected. His initial impulse had been to rescue Katie from the risk of being trampled by Gino’s enthusiasm, but that was before he discovered how she felt beneath his hands. Timid, yet eager, she had everything to learn, and that in itself was irresistible.
He had to remind himself that she was going home tomorrow and there was no time for the style of initiation he had in mind. Resting his chin on her hair, he smiled as he dragged in her light, wild-flower scent. It was a revelation to him to feel how Katie trembled beneath his intentionally light touch. He knew she wanted more. She proved it by moving closer, seeking contact, seeking pressure between their bodies, seeking sex.
So was Signorina Prim strait-laced and just a little drunk, or was she a dam waiting to burst? Perhaps Katie Bannister was the best actress he had ever met. She was certainly a storm loosely contained in a cage of inexperience. He knew that he should take her back to the table and call for the bill, prior to taking her back to sleep alone in her chaste, maidenly bed.
Italian Boss, Proud Miss Prim Page 7
