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CHAPTER THREE
‘HERE.’
‘Thanks.’ Molly took the brandy Salvio was offering her, wondering if she’d been crazy to accept his invitation to have a drink with him, because now she was in his room she felt hopelessly embarrassed and out of place. She noticed his half-packed open suitcase lying on the far side of the room and, for some stupid reason, her heart sank. He obviously couldn’t wait to get away from here. Awkwardly, she shifted from one foot to the other.
‘Why don’t you sit down over there, beside the fire?’ he suggested.
Lowering herself into the chair he’d indicated, Molly thought how weird it was to find herself in the role of visitor to a room she had cleaned so many times. Just this morning she’d been in here, fluffing up the new duvet and making sure the monogrammed pillowcases were all neatly facing in the right direction. Over there were the neat stack of freshly ironed newspapers Lady Avery had insisted on, and the jug of water with the little lace cover on top. Yet it was fu
‘Not much of a drinker?’ observed Salvio wryly, as he poured his own drink.
‘Not really.’ But even that minuscule amount of liquor had started to dissolve the tight knot of tension in the pit of her stomach, sending a warm glow flooding through her body. Molly stared out of the windows where clouds were racing across the silvery face of the moon. Outside the temperature had plummeted but in here it felt cosy—in fact, she might even go so far as to say she was starting to feel relaxed. Yet here she was in a strange man’s bedroom in her black uniform and heavy-duty shoes as if she had every right to be there. What on earth would Lady Avery say if she happened to walk in? Anxiety rippled through her as she glanced at Salvio, who was replacing the heavy stopper in the bottle. ‘I really shouldn’t be here,’ she fretted.
‘So you said,’ he drawled, his tinge of boredom implying that he found repetition tedious. ‘But you are here. And you still haven’t told me why you were crying.’
‘I...’ She took another sip of brandy before putting the glass down on a nearby table. ‘No reason really.’
‘Now, why don’t I believe you, Molly Miller?’ he challenged softly. ‘What happened? Did you get into more trouble about di
Her startled expression told Salvio his guess was correct. ‘I deserved it,’ she said flatly as she met his gaze. ‘The meal was rubbish.’
Briefly he acknowledged her loyalty. She would have been perfectly justified in moaning about her employer but she hadn’t. She was a curious creature, he thought, his gaze flickering over her dispassionately. Totally without artifice, she didn’t seem to care that the way she was sitting wasn’t the most flattering angle she could have chosen. Yet her abundant hair glowed like copper in the firelight and as she crossed one ankle over the other he was surprised by how unexpectedly erotic that simple movement seemed. But he hadn’t brought her here to seduce her, he reminded himself sternly. Tonight he had cast himself in the role of the good Samaritan, that was all. ‘And that’s the only reason for your tears?’
Molly gave an awkward wriggle of her shoulders. ‘Maybe I was feeling sorry for myself,’ she admitted, shifting beneath his probing gaze. Because no way was she going to tell him the real reason. He wouldn’t be interested in her wayward brother or his habit of accumulating debt, but more than that—she was afraid of saying the words out loud. As if saying them would make them even more real. She didn’t want to wonder why Robbie had rung up just an hour ago, asking her if she had any spare cash for a ‘temporary’ loan, despite his promises to find himself some sort of job. Why hadn’t he got any money of his own? Why was he asking her for more, after all his tearful promises that from now on he was going to live his life independently and free of debt? She swallowed. She couldn’t bear to think that he’d got himself into that terrible spiral yet again—of playing poker and losing. Of owing money to hard-faced men who wouldn’t think twice about scarring his pretty young face...
‘Call it a touch of self-pity,’ she said, meeting the black fire in his eyes and realising he was still waiting for an answer. ‘Not something I imagine you have much experience of.’
Salvio gave a mirthless smile. How touching her faith in him! Did she think that because he was wealthy and successful, he had never known pain or despair, when he had been on intimate terms with both those things? His mouth hardened. When his life had imploded and he’d lost everything, he remembered the darkness which had descended on him, sending him hurtling into a deep and never-ending hole. And even though he’d dragged himself out of the quagmire and forced himself to start over—you never forgot an experience like that. It marked you. Changed you. Turned you into someone different. A stranger to yourself as well as to those around you. It was why he had left Naples—because he couldn’t bear to be reminded of his own failure. ‘Why do you stay here?’ he questioned quietly.
‘It’s a very well-paid job.’
‘Even though you get spoken to like that?’
She shook her head, her long hair swaying like a glossy curtain. ‘It’s not usually as bad as it was tonight.’
‘Your loyalty is touching, signorina.’
‘I’m paid to be loyal,’ she said doggedly.
‘I’m sure you are. But even taking all that into account, this place is very isolato...isolated.’ He gave a flicker of a smile, as if begging her to forgive his sudden lapse into his native tongue. ‘I can’t imagine many people your age living nearby.’
‘Maybe that’s one of the reasons I like it.’
He raised his eyebrows. ‘You don’t like to socialise?’
Molly hesitated. Should she tell him that she always felt out of place around people her own age? That she didn’t really do the relaxed stuff, or the fun stuff, or the wild stuff. She’d spent too many years caring for her mother and then trying to keep her brother from going off the rails—and that kind of sensible role could become so much a part of you that it was difficult to relinquish it. And wouldn’t that kind of admission bring reality crashing into the room? Wouldn’t it puncture the slightly unreal atmosphere which had descended on her ever since she’d walked in here and settled down by the fireside, allowing herself to forget for a short while that she was Molly the housekeeper—so that for once she’d felt like a person in her own right?
‘I can take people or leave them,’ she said. ‘Anyway, socialising is expensive and I’m saving up. I’m intending to put my brother through college and it isn’t cheap. He’s in Australia at the moment,’ she explained, in answer to the fractional rise of his dark brows. ‘Doing a kind of...gap year.’
He frowned. ‘So you’re here—working hard—while he has fun in the sun? That’s a very admirable sacrifice for a sister to make.’
‘Anyone would do it.’
‘Not anyone, no. He’s lucky to have you.’
Molly picked up her glass again and took another sip of brandy. Would Salvio De Ge
Contents
Cover
Back Cover Text
About the Author
Booklist
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
EPILOGUE
Extract
About the Publisher