The Mysterious Italian Houseguest. Scarlet Wilson
destination. The ferry boat from the mainland was the only way here. Tourism was low. This place was off the beaten track. That was partly why she was here too.
But maybe it was something else? Maybe there was much more to Javier Russo than anyone knew. Her stomach flipped a little. She was still annoyed at him being so dismissive at their last meeting—one that he didn’t even remember. Maybe finding a story on Javier Russo would give her the boost she needed for her flagging career?
She pushed the horrible nagging feeling to the back of her head.
She’d only agreed to let him stay here one night. Maybe if there was a chance of a story she should reconsider?
There was a noise from downstairs. She frowned and swung her legs out of bed. It only took a few minutes to source where the noise was coming from.
Oh, Javier Russo was awake all right. He was so awake he was standing bare-chested in the painted drawing room. She rubbed her eyes. Maybe she hadn’t woken up yet. Maybe this was all just some kind of weird dream. He was wearing a pair of blue jeans and black boots. And he was mixing something in a bucket, his actions allowing her to admire every chiselled muscle in his arms and abs. She was pretty sure her chin just bounced off the floor and came back up again. That smattering of dark curls across the chest then thickening and leading downwards... There should be a law against this kind of thing.
‘What on earth are you doing?’
He looked up and smiled. ‘Just making myself useful.’
There was quiet confidence in those words that actually made her smart. The painted room was her favourite in the whole house and she knew that Posy felt the same. Although they hadn’t exactly spoken about it, she was sure that getting repairs done in a room like this was entirely outside all of her sisters’ budgets.
He smeared some of the white plaster on a metal square he held in one hand. There were a number of different-sized trowels lined up on the floor, some brushes and a large open bag of plaster powder.
‘Where on earth did you get all this?’
He smiled again. ‘I borrowed the scooter parked in the garage and went to the local hardware store early this morning. If you know what you’re looking for you can always find it.’
She shook her head as she eyed the bag of plaster. That had to be heavy. ‘Where even is the hardware store? I didn’t even know one existed.’ She glanced at her watch. ‘And when on earth did you go there?’
He shrugged. ‘It’s on the outskirts of Baia di Rose. Most tradesmen like to start their work early. They don’t like to work in the heat of the day. The hardware store opened at six.’
He ran his hand along the wall and frowned, grabbing a piece of sandpaper and giving a gentle rub around the crack.
‘What do you think you’re doing? Don’t touch that. You’ll make it worse. This place is in a bad enough state without you deciding to play Mr Handyman.’
Javier sighed and shook his head. ‘You act like I haven’t done this before.’
‘You haven’t!’
He took a step closer and gave her a serious look. ‘Don’t you do your homework on the people you interview? I’ve said a number of times that I worked in the summers as a teenager with my Uncle Vinnie—the best handyman in the world.’ He waved the piece of metal smeared with plaster. ‘There are a number of jobs I can do around here in the next few weeks. Plastering was one of the things I was best at. I can repair the cracks and skim the walls in all the rooms. It will be a good foundation for any other decorating your sister has planned.’ He waved his other hand. ‘And the conservatory. I can replace the broken glass. Another of my specialities.’
Portia couldn’t speak. She was astonished. She didn’t like to be caught unawares. There were probably a million women the world over that would currently love to be in her position. A half-dressed Javier Russo offering to work as handyman. She blinked and put her fingers at the edge of her hip and gave herself a sharp pinch.
Yep. She was definitely here. She was definitely awake.
He’d just criticised her. He’d implied she wasn’t good at her job. He’d implied she didn’t do her homework. Oh, this guy was clearly going to drive her crazy. Half naked or not.
And she hated to admit it right now, but she didn’t know that much background on Javier Russo. Annoyance swept through her. She wasn’t going to let him get the better of her. There was a story here. She could practically smell it in the air between them.
She licked her lips. Her intention had been to throw him out today. But the thought of a story was making her reconsider. Maybe she wouldn’t mention anything today at all.
She glanced downwards and realised she was standing in her pale blue wrap robe and slippers, her hair tied in a tangled knot on her head. Not entirely appropriate. She’d been so focused on what the noise was she hadn’t really thought about her appearance.
She sucked in a deep breath and tried to take a reality check on what was happening. She knew exactly how to play this. She laughed out loud and held up one hand, putting the other on her hip.
Javier looked amused. Perfect. ‘What is it?’
She kept laughing. ‘Well, I’m just thinking, whatever that wine was that I drank last night—and I only had two glasses—I think I better hunt down the rest of it.’
Javier lifted his hand from the wall. ‘Why?’
She clicked her fingers. ‘Well, look what’s happened. I drink two glasses of wine, Javier Russo, world-famous movie star—and I think I remember you were last year’s Most Eligible Bachelor—has turned up half naked in my sister’s dilapidated old villa, offering to be my handyman for the next few weeks. This isn’t real. There’s no way this is real.’
He nodded slowly, contemplating her words. Javier had that tiny little gleam in his eye. It was famous. Often caught in pictures and on camera in films. It made him look as if he were talking to only you, sharing a joke only with you.
And right now, he was talking only to her. There was a real possibility of story here.
‘What will it take to convince you?’
Her breathing stopped. Second time Javier Russo had caught her unawares. What did that mean? Her mouth couldn’t find the next set of words.
For the tiniest second the thought of a story vanished. Instead, in its place, was the muscular body and grey eyes of Javier Russo. All man, right in front of her.
It was almost as if he read her mind. He put the metal square on the floor next to the trowels and stepped closer. So close that his hand rested on her hip. Yes, it did. It really did.
If this were a film she would have spent around three hours in make-up achieving the ‘natural’ look. Unfortunately, her natural look was entirely natural. Her face scrubbed last night and a bit of her usual moisturiser smeared on her face. She always tied her hair up when she went to bed and it generally managed to tangle its way into an unruly mess.
He’d got close last night. But she’d gone from being a little foggy with the wine, to thinking there was an intruder, assaulting a movie star, then finding herself making up a bed for him.
No one would believe that interview.
All of a sudden she was closer than she’d ever expected to be with a movie star. Up close and personal. She could see every tiny line around his eyes. Laughter lines. No Botox. Every strand of his dark hair. The stubble on his jaw line. Her palm wanted to reach up and feel it. His white straight teeth and something hidden behind his grey eyes.
That was what stopped her in her tracks.
She recognised the signs. Hurt. Now she’d glimpsed it she could see it as clear as day.
He still hadn’t told her why he was here. He hadn’t answered many questions last night at