Italian Tycoon, Secret Son. Lucy Gordon

Italian Tycoon, Secret Son - Lucy Gordon


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of my best,’ he assured her.

      ‘Of course you need to practise your delivery.’

      ‘I thought I delivered it just right,’ he said, hurt.

      ‘No, you should try it with a woman who isn’t standing back and judging the performance.’

      ‘You’re not standing back,’ he said, tightening his arm about her waist, so that she could feel his body more closely against hers.

      ‘Inside I’m standing back, having a good laugh at you, actually daring to think I’d give you an easy time.’

      ‘If there’s one thought that never crossed my mind it’s that you’d give me an easy time,’ he said fervently.

      ‘Well, you should be able to cope with that,’ she teased. ‘You’re Italian, after all. Think Casanova! Think Romeo!’

      ‘Think a sock on the jaw! Mio dio, where do you get these ideas from? If I labelled you cold and prissy because you’re English, you’d be annoyed.’

      ‘Not if it were true,’ she said. ‘Then I’d be flattered that you’d recognised my innate virtue.’

      His alarmed expression was so comical that she burst out laughing.

      ‘I’d take a bet,’ Mandy said, ‘that every night at bedtime you say a prayer to be saved from women of virtue.’

      Renzo gave her a considering look. ‘Well— maybe not all of them. How sad that the music is ending. We must continue this so interesting conversation another time.’

      He gave her a little bow as they parted.

      ‘Thank you, kind lady,’ he said formally.

      ‘And you, sir. With your duty done, you can start enjoying yourself.’

      His eyes flashed her a message, but so swiftly that she wasn’t sure she’d read it right. Perhaps it was safer that way.

      Needing some fresh air, she fetched her jacket and slipped out into the snow. There was a full moon, bathing the mountains in dazzling silver light, and she walked down to the low wall that marked the boundary, where she could sit and ponder.

      ‘Ah, there you are,’ came a voice behind her.

      She gave a silent groan. ‘Hello, Henry.’

      ‘I was watching you in there. You were fantastic.’

      ‘Thank you.’

      Inwardly she was praying that he wouldn’t come and sit beside her. He did.

      ‘You’re such a super mover,’ he enthused, ‘slinky and sexy. It made me think all sorts of things about you and me. How about it, eh?’

      ‘No,’ she said firmly.

      He made the mistake of lunging for her, which gave Mandy the chance to seize his hand in an iron grip.

      ‘Ow!’ he muttered.

      ‘Listen carefully, Henry,’ she said with a deadly smile. ‘If you don’t back off, I shall boil you in oil and decapitate you, not necessarily in that order. Now push off before I’m tempted.’

      Even he got that message. He sloped off in the direction of the door, muttering just loud enough for her to pick up the word frigid. Furiously she picked up a handful of snow and hurled it after him.

      ‘Hey!’ protested a voice.

      ‘How long have you been there?’ she demanded indignantly.

      ‘Long enough to enjoy the sight of Henry being an idiot,’ Renzo said, coming forward, brushing snow off himself.

      ‘Shouldn’t you have rushed to my rescue? How about protecting a damsel in distress?’

      ‘I never saw a damsel less in need of help,’ Renzo said, sitting beside her. ‘It’s enough to make a man go very carefully.’

      ‘If it was in his nature to go carefully. Some men don’t have the common sense to be afraid.’

      Renzo nodded. ‘Except when I’m climbing, I never had any common sense,’ he confirmed. ‘It’s led to me having my face slapped a few times, but it’s also given me some of the best moments of my life.’

      She nodded. It was just as she’d supposed.

      ‘You were pretty gorgeous in that dance,’ he said at last. ‘Enough to make a man enjoy a few fantasies.’

      ‘Only a twerp like Henry,’ she said firmly.

      But Renzo shook his head. ‘Any man,’ he said softly.

      ‘Is this you doing your duty again?’ she asked, regarding him cynically.

      ‘Let’s just say that if I wanted to approach you, I wouldn’t go about it like a bull at a gate.’

      It was madness to say, ‘Just how would you go about it?’ but she found herself saying it anyway.

      ‘I’d be quiet for a moment while we both drank in the mountains. Then I’d point out how the moonlight makes them unearthly, so that we almost could be on another planet—just the two of us.’

      ‘And then you’d say that there was nobody you’d rather have with you than me?’ she conjectured.

      ‘I think I’d try something more subtle like— you’re so ethereal that you seem to embody the moon. No?’

      He’d seen the scepticism in her face.

      ‘I might laugh at that one,’ she admitted.

      ‘Then how about something more down-to-earth like—watching you dance gave me thoughts I’m ashamed of. I couldn’t even tell you about them—unless you insisted.’

      ‘I don’t think I need to,’ she murmured.

      ‘Of course not. You had a dozen men at your feet, as you well knew.’

      ‘Did I?’ she mused. ‘Well, perhaps.’

      ‘Little cat,’ he whispered. ‘You knew exactly what you were doing.’

      Renzo was right. There had been pleasure in knowing that every man’s eyes were upon her, but the only ones she’d cared about were his.

      But hell would freeze over before she gave him an easy victory.

      ‘One must pass the time somehow,’ Mandy said languidly.

      ‘Very good,’ he said. ‘Play the indifferent card. Make him suffer, but beware of teasing him too much, lest things get out of your control.’

      ‘Nothing ever gets out of my control,’ she mused softly. ‘I don’t allow it to happen.’

      ‘Now that is sheer provocation.’

      Somehow he’d taken possession of her hand and was holding it gently between his.

      ‘Of course,’ he said thoughtfully, ‘this might be the moment when you threaten to pour boiling oil over me.’

      ‘No, I think I’ll save that until later.’

      Without speaking, he laid his cheek against her palm. It was a pleasant sensation, and not alarming, until he turned his head so that she felt his lips. She controlled her tremor, determined not to let him feel it, but she couldn’t hide it from herself. This was only meant to be a joke, but what had she wandered into?

      ‘On the other hand,’ she said softly, ‘I know just the oil to use.’

      ‘You think I’d be foolish to try my luck any further?’

      ‘Very foolish.’

      Renzo leaned forwards so that his mouth was close to hers. ‘A brave man would put that to the test.’

      ‘How brave are you?’


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