‘Savannah.’
She knew immediately from his voice that Ethan was furious. She felt instantly guilty, as well as silly and awkward, standing barefoot in front of him in her towelling robe. Her lips trembled and her smile died instantly.
‘What have you done?’ he snapped.
Her gaze slid away. ‘I was taking a bath.’
‘You know I don’t mean that.’
Savannah drew her robe a little closer, conscious that Ethan’s stare was boring into her, demanding an answer.
‘I mean the lights,’ he explained. ‘I take it you’re responsible?’
‘Yes, I switched them on. Please don’t be angry with your staff, Ethan.’ She touched his arm. ‘It was all my fault. I did it for them, for you.’
‘For me? For them? What is this nonsense?’
Tears were threatening. She had been so looking forward to sharing this moment with him, Savannah realised, and now it had all gone wrong. Far from wanting light, Ethan craved the darkness to hide his scars. She should have known and not been so insensitive. In trying to help him she had arrogantly assumed she was right, only seeing the world from her own perspective. And now he couldn’t wait to turn those lights off, or for her to leave. ‘I’m so sorry—’
‘You’ll have to leave,’ he said, perfectly echoing her thoughts. ‘I can’t have this sort of interference. Please pack your bags.’
‘Ethan—’
‘There’s nothing more to say, Savannah.’
‘But it’s nighttime. Where will I go?’
‘A hotel, the airport, somewhere—I don’t care.’
‘You’re throwing me out?’
‘Save your melodrama for the stage.’
‘Says you, living in the dark!’ She couldn’t believe she’d said that. But it was true. She was fighting for Ethan, and where that was concerned nothing she said was going too far. But as Ethan’s stony stare raked her face, Savannah realised he didn’t see it that way.
‘Will you pack?’ he said coldly, confirming her worst fears. ‘Or must I call the housekeeper to do that for you?’
‘Ethan, please.’ It was no use. He’d closed off to her.
As he shook Savannah’s hand from his arm, he saw her tears and his heart ignored the dictates of his head.
‘Please don’t be angry with your housekeeper,’ she entreated, adding to the conflict boiling inside him. ‘You must know this is all my fault.’
Every bit of it was Savannah’s fault…or her blessing. He turned his back so he wouldn’t have to look into her face, but still he felt her goodness washing over him. She wouldn’t stop until all the bitterness was cleaned away. She touched his arm, begging him. ‘You’ve gone too far,’ he growled, wanting even now to protect her from that black evil inside him.
She didn’t argue, and instead she did something far worse: she confessed.
‘You’re right,’ she said frankly. ‘I interfered where I shouldn’t have. This is your home, Ethan, not mine. I asked your staff to turn on some lights so it was safer for them, and for you. I can see I went too far with that plan when one or two lights would have been sufficient, and if you want me to leave I will. All I ask is your promise that you won’t blame your staff for my thoughtless actions.’
He didn’t need to see any more tears to know that Savannah was at her most vulnerable. Yet she fought on in the defence of others. He couldn’t ignore that. Her appeal had touched him deeply in a way he hadn’t felt, maybe, ever. He was still wondering how best to deal with this unusual situation when the housekeeper Savannah was at such pains to defend came unwittingly to their rescue.
‘Something to eat, signore, signorina?’ she said blithely when Savannah opened the door to her knock.
What perfect timing, Savannah thought, exhaling with relief as she smiled at her new friend. As her shoulders relaxed she quickly adapted her manner so as not to concern the older woman. ‘Let me take that tray from you.’
‘No, please, let me.’ Ethan’s innate good manners meant he had to step forward in front of Savannah to take the tray himself.
‘Thank you, signore,’ the housekeeper said politely, handing Ethan the tray without any sign that she had overheard their heated exchange. ‘I’ve made enough for two.’
Hmm, Savannah thought, realising Ethan had no other option other than to carry the tray into her room. ‘Let me clear a space for you,’ she said, hurrying ahead of him.
To give her a moment to regroup, she rushed about, hunting for her slippers. Ethan placed the tray down on the low table between the two sofas and remained standing.
This was one consequence she could not avoid.
By the time she had found her slippers and slipped them on, she could hardly breathe, let alone speak as she came to a halt in front of Ethan.
When exactly had he become so hard and unfeeling? She had only turned the lights on, after all, which in the bright world Savannah inhabited was a very small transgression. As she ran her fingers through her still-damp hair, her face naked after her shower, he knew she was also naked under her robe. She looked nervous, apprehensive; fearful. She was certainly braced for a stinging rebuke. ‘We shouldn’t let the supper go to waste. That’s if you don’t mind…’
She looked surprised at his suggestion, as he had expected, but she quickly rallied, saying, ‘Of course I don’t mind. Please, sit down. You must be hungry too?’
‘A little,’ he admitted.
Savannah had to stop audibly sighing with relief as Ethan sat down. Maybe there was a chance, however slender, that she could change things for him before she left; it was all she wanted. But as always in the world of Savannah things never ran according to plan. She remembered that her underwear for the next day, having been rinsed out, was still hanging over the bath—large, comfy knickers included. What if he decided to go in there? ‘D’you mind, if I…?’ Flapping her hands, she glanced anxiously across the room.
‘Not at all. Take your time,’ Ethan invited.
She would have to, Savannah thought, resting back against the bathroom door. She wasn’t leaving this room until her heartbeat steadied, which meant she could be in here quite some time. Ethan was full of surprises. She felt like he was giving her a second chance. But he was so complex, she had no idea what to expect next. But then she hardly knew him, Savannah reasoned. When she emerged from the bathroom, there was music playing.
‘Do you like it?’ Ethan asked as Savannah poked her head self-consciously round the door.
‘Is it what I think it is?’
‘If you think it’s your first CD then, yes, it is.’
Savannah pulled back inside the bathroom, suffused with too many emotions to impose them on Ethan. She felt elated that her teachers’ and parents’ dreams for her had come true, and dread that Ethan only regarded her as a property belonging to his record label.
‘Aren’t you coming out to join me?’ he called. ‘Come and listen to your music.’
She could hardly refuse, since Ethan owned the record company. ‘Do you like it?’ she said anxiously when she returned.
‘Like it? Your singing voice always makes me think of…’
Frogs croaking? Wheels grinding?
‘Birds singing,’ he said, settling back with a blissful expression on his face as Savannah’s voice filled the room. ‘Song birds,’ he added dryly, without opening his eyes.
At least not crows squawking.
She should have more confidence, Savannah told herself, but in many ways she was as happy in the shadows as Ethan. In a different way, of course. But she loved nothing more than the wide-open countryside back home, and the fact that she could walk for miles unnoticed as she soaked up all the glories of nature.
‘I’m glad we signed you.’
Savannah refocused to find Ethan staring thoughtfully at her. ‘Thank you.’ She risked a small smile as her heart drummed wildly.
‘You should eat something. It must be hours since you last ate.’
Proba
bly. She had no idea. But she would have to lean past him to take something, and she was acutely aware that she was naked under her robe.
‘Here,’ he said, offering her the loaded plate. ‘Take one of these delicious ciabatta.’
‘Ethan, if I’ve offended you—’
‘Eat something, Savannah, before you faint.’
‘I didn’t mean to,’ she finished softly. ‘Sometimes my enthusiasm carries me away.’
He hummed at this and angled his stubble-shaded chin towards the plate.
‘Thank you.’ Selecting a delicious-looking, well-filled roll, she bit into it with relish, expressing her pleasure in a series of appreciative sounds. Even now, beneath Ethan’s unforgiving eye, she couldn’t hide her feelings. ‘You’re very lucky to have such wonderful staff.’
‘Yes, I am.’ And when she thought that short statement was it, he added, ‘You were right about the gloom making life difficult for them. And, yes, even dangerous. And, as for artworks, I hadn’t even noticed.’ He paused and then admitted, ‘Who would think turning on the lights could make such a difference?’
She could.
CHAPTER EIGHT
ETHAN realised how much he had misjudged Susannah when his housekeeper, having returned with a fresh plate of food, took him to one side to inform him that she was glad to see how happy the piccola signorina was now the lights were on.
The way the older woman had held his gaze suggested more than the fact that Savannah was a guest with particular tastes to accommodate, or even that his housekeeper liked the young singer and wanted to make her stay as comfortable as possible. It was more the type of look the older generation gave the younger in Italy—and would sometimes be accompanied by tapping the side of the nose. Naturally, the older woman wouldn’t dream of being so familiar with him, but she had got her message across. He’d brushed off her inquisitiveness with a rare smile.
Some time ago he had come to understand and even envy the Italian nation’s fixation with love. And how could he be angry with Savannah, when all it took to make him smile was to watch her sucking her fingers with gusto before devouring another sandwich? Savannah had transformed the palazzo in the short time she’d been here, filling it with good things and raising the spirits of his staff. It wouldn’t last when she’d gone, of course, but she had unlocked one small portion of his heart, which was good news for his staff.
‘It is a beautiful room, isn’t it?’
As Savannah lifted her head with surprise, he realised he was seeing things through her eyes and how different things could be if he decided to make them so.
She’d go mad with grief if she heard that Ethan had returned to his old ways when she went home. And that wasn’t overreaction, it was pure, hard fact, Savannah concluded, blushing when, having held the door for his housekeeper, Ethan remained leaning against the door frame with his powerful arms folded across his chest, watching her.
Her body reacted as if Ethan had just made the most indecent suggestion. His tight fitting T-shirt strained hard across his chest, and his jeans were secured with a heavy-duty belt. She had noticed all this in the space of a few seconds, and started nervously when Ethan moved.
‘More sandwiches?’ he suggested, strolling across the room towards her.
She was as tense as a doe at bay, Savannah realised, sitting straight. ‘No, thank you.’
And then she decided she had better get up and clear some space on the table for all the new food, but being nervous and clumsy she moved erratically, and somehow a chair leg got in her way. Ethan called out, but it was too late, and as he reached out to grab her to stop her falling she ended up in his arms.
‘Suddenly you’ve got more legs than a millipede, and each one of them travelling in a different direction,’ he suggested.
‘Pretty much,’ she admitted, though the millipede analogy failed to grow on her. A better woman would have made the most of this opportunity, while all she could think was had she cleaned her teeth?
‘Well, I’m still hungry,’ he admitted, letting her go and heading back to the sofa.
She watched him stretch out his muscular legs, knowing she had never felt more awkward in her life. And yes—thank the dentist’s warnings—she had cleaned her teeth, but Savannah Ross was about to play host to Ethan Alexander? It hardly seemed possible.
‘Won’t you help me?’ He glanced her way as he reached for a sandwich. ‘My housekeeper clearly thinks we both need feeding up.’
Or perhaps the older woman wanted to keep him here, Savannah thought, surprising herself with this reflection. They ate in silence until Savannah put down her napkin with a sigh of contentment. The hearty feed had reminded her of home.
‘You were hungry,’ Ethan commented, wiping his lips on a napkin.
As he continued to stare at her, Savannah’s cheeks heated up. They were still talking about food, weren’t they?
Of course they were, she reasoned, smoothing out her hair, or rather the tangles. What must Ethan think of her, bare faced and barely dressed? Having never entertained a man before whilst naked beneath a robe, she wasn’t too sure of the protocol. And as Ethan still showed no sign of going anywhere, she suggested, ‘Why don’t I switch on the television?’ Maybe they’d catch the news, she reasoned.
‘The television?’
‘I just thought maybe there would be a news report about the match…or us.’ Her cheeks fired up as Ethan gave her a look. The word ‘us’ couldn’t have carried more embarrassing weight had it tried.
‘I try to escape the news when I’m here.’ Ethan’s tone was a chilling return to his former manner.
‘But surely not items affecting your business—or world affairs—or sport?’ She was running out of options, wishing she knew how to turn the clock back so she could remove all reference to ‘us’.
‘No,’ he said bluntly. ‘And, Savannah, I need to tell you something.’
By which time she’d switched on the set. Her timing was impeccable, Savannah realised, recoiling as she blenched. ‘Why, that’s ridiculous!’ A news item had just flashed up on the screen. A news item featuring Ethan Alexander caught out, so the reporters said, with his latest squeeze, a young ingénue only recently signed to his record label.
‘How could such a nice evening end so badly?’ Ethan wondered, glancing at her.
Now she knew why he hadn’t wanted her to turn it on. ‘How can you take it so well?’
‘Because I know what to expect. That’s one of the reasons I came to find you. I wanted to tell you myself before you found out by some other means. But now…’ Leaning across her, picking up the remote-control and pointing it at the set, he switched it off.
‘Shouldn’t we know everything before we do that?’ Savannah exclaimed. Terrible lies were being told about them. ‘Don’t you care what they’re saying about us?’
‘Do I care about gossip?’
‘Gossip? They’re telling lies!’
Ethan responded calmly. ‘What are they going to do? They’ll soon tire of us, and in no time those pictures will be wrapped around somebody’s fish and chips.’
‘A famous tycoon saves the girl with the golden tonsils, blushes, in front of a worldwide television audience?’ Savannah stuck a finger in her mouth to show what she thought of that. ‘A story like that could run and run.’
‘Gossip only hurts you if you allow it to,’ Ethan told her evenly. ‘And if you’re going to let it get you down like this, Savannah, perhaps you should have another think about pursuing a career in the public eye.’
Were those her marching orders? She went cold immediately, thinking of all the people who had helped her along the way and who would be badly let down if she quit. ‘But the press say we’re sleeping together.’ Surely that would get through to him?
Ethan’s brow rose seductively. ‘Is that so bad?’
He shouldn’t tease her. Savannah’s cheeks flushed crimson the moment he put the thought of them being sexually involved into her head. And why was he
doing that when he had vowed not to think of Savannah as anything other than a young girl under his protection? Was it because sometimes a deeper feeling than common sense took the lead?
Before he had a chance to reason it through she begged him to switch on the set again so she could know the worst. She made him smile inwardly. Her voice was shaking with anger, not fear, and her hands were balled into fists as if she would like to punch out the screen. She was new to this, he remembered. ‘You know what they’re saying and so do I,’ he soothed, ‘So let them get on with it.’
‘No,’ she shot back fiercely. ‘We have to issue a denial.’
‘We have something to deny?’ he queried, pouncing on her naivety before it had a chance to take root. Picking up the remote-control which she had cunningly reclaimed, he tossed it out of her reach.
Gradually she relaxed, hopefully seeing the sense behind his years of doing battle with the press. ‘Thank goodness my parents are away,’ she said, confirming this.
She looked so grateful it drove home the message that Savannah came from a strong and loving family. He couldn’t shake a lingering sense of loss for something he’d never had. But her desire to go out and slay dragons soon distracted him. The expression on her face was so appealing.
It took Savannah a moment to realise Ethan was laughing. It was the first time she’d heard him laugh, without it being an ugly or mocking sound. ‘What’s so funny?’
He shook his head, unable to speak for a moment. ‘The infamous hard man and his teenage songbird?’ he managed at last. ‘They make us sound like something out of a novel.’
‘And I’m not a teenager,’ Savannah pointed out. ‘I was twenty last week.’
‘Twenty?’ Ethan’s face stilled. ‘As old as that?’
‘Well, I’m not some teenage tweety-pie, if that’s what you think—and I think we should sue them,’ she said seriously, which only made him start laughing again.
‘You can if you like,’ Ethan suggested between bouts of laughter.
Using magic beans to pay the lawyers, presumably. But as she had a leading role in this mess she was determined to do something about it.
The Ruthless Billionaire’s Virgin Page 7
