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turned around to face the direction the burly Italian indicated in time to see a tall, lithe figure vaulting over the six-bar gate that kept the sheep from straying into the garden.

      ‘Oh, my God!’ Izzy felt as if a giant hand had pushed into her chest and for several heart-thudding moments she literally couldn’t breathe. How do I get out of here?

      Roman, seemingly oblivious to her state of near collapse, walked straight up to the older man, who nodded and removed his shades. ‘Any problems, Gennaro?’

      ‘No, boss, the train was actually on time.’ Gennaro unfastened the baby seat complete with baby and lifted it out.

      ‘I’ll take that.’

      Izzy watched, too stunned to protest, as Roman took hold of the baby carrier.

      ‘Should I take the bags up?’

      ‘If you would. Oh, and could you ask Mrs Saunders to send some coffee through to the library, and maybe some sandwiches? Then I won’t be needing either of you until tomorrow.’

      Gennaro nodded his thanks at Roman and tacked something on the end of his conversation in Italian that made Roman laugh.

      Izzy wasn’t laughing.

      She wasn’t even capable of acknowledging Gennaro’s nod as, with a case under each arm, he walked up the shallow flight of steps towards the open front door.

      ‘Good trip, Isabel?’

      He spoke as though this was a prearranged meeting, which of course it was—only she hadn’t been kept in the loop. She had stepped right into the trap he’d so cleverly baited. He knew exactly what her weakness was; she’d told him about her guilt at being a stay-at-home mum even if she could afford it financially. And he had sown the seeds of doubt when he had suggested that it might not be so easy to step back into the job market after a lengthy break. This was the set-up to end all set-ups!

      Why hadn’t she seen it coming? The too-good-to-be-true offer … why hadn’t she smelt a rat?

      Possibly because she wasn’t twisted and sneaky. She wanted to laugh or throw something at him or both. Instead she stood like a rabbit caught in the headlights, thinking, Any moment now I’ll wake up and realise this was all a dream—a nightmare.

      ‘So what do you think?’ he asked, gesturing towards the building behind them, but looking at Izzy.

      She shivered at his voice. The dictionary would sound like an indecent proposal when read in that deep, husky, dangerously seductive timbre.

      ‘This is your house.’

      ‘I knew you’d get there eventually, cara.’ He watched the two spots of angry colour appear on her smooth cheeks. ‘So, what’s your opinion … professionally speaking? Does it have potential?’

      ‘Professionally?’ she echoed, thinking very unprofessional thoughts as she fixed him with a murderous glare. Just how long was he going to insult her by pretending this job offer was anything but an elaborate hoax?

      ‘I realise it’s all subjective, but do you like the place? Could you see yourself—?’

      ‘I can see myself pushing you off a cliff!’

      She sucked in a deep breath, causing Roman’s glance to drop. Having a baby changed a woman’s body and though Izzy was lighter and more fragile-looking than he recalled, her breasts were definitely fuller. His eyes darkened as he remembered how one had fitted perfectly in the palm of his hand. Now they would overflow, the soft, silky, milk-pale flesh … He took a deep breath and pushed away the tactile image, but not before his body had hardened helplessly.

      His sculpted lips twisted in a smile of self-mockery. For some reason around this woman his normal iron self-control took a holiday. What was it about her? It wasn’t as if she were overtly sexual. She had a great body, as he knew only too well, but she didn’t flaunt it. Look at the way she was dressed today, the shirt buttoned up to the neck, baggy creased trousers, and not a scrap of make-up. It was something elusive and intangible about her that, like smoke, defied his attempts to pin it down, control it.

      As he scanned her tense features he wondered why he looked at her and saw something different from everyone else … How many times at that damned wedding had he heard her referred to as serene?

      She had not been serene that night they had spent together. He saw an image of her sitting astride him, her smooth thighs locked tight around his hips, her head thrown back and the sheen of sweat making her pale skin glisten in the darkness. She didn’t look serene right now either; she looked like an exhausted young mother who had just received a nasty shock.

      A beautiful but exhausted young mother. It would take more than lines of exhaustion bracketing her soft full mouth and dark shadows under her stunning blue eyes to diminish her looks.

      He was in part at least responsible for putting the shadows there, he thought, and pushed away the stab of unaccustomed guilt. This was a situation that needed resolving. He had already missed out on the first precious months of his daughter’s life and he was not going to miss out on the next while they bargained out a deal.

      ‘Sorry, no cliff, but you could always improvise.’ She liked to project the cool and calm image, but he had caught her off guard and people revealed more of themselves when they were off guard.

      Izzy felt her anger drain away and with it her taste for this conversation. After all the heart racing she felt horribly flat. ‘You got me here, but what I don’t understand is why you went to all this effort. Did you really expect me to stay? I’m taking Lily home, but don’t think I won’t send you the bill for this wasted journey, because I will!’

      Even while she was hating him, at another level she was noticing the shadow of purple-black growth on his jaw and lean cheeks, the air of restless male vitality he exuded and how incredibly sexy he looked in the black jeans that clung to the long, muscular lines of his powerful thighs.

      ‘Why not look around first? You might like what you see,’ he drawled.

      Izzy, refusing to acknowledge his reference to her drooling contemplation of his lean, muscle-packed body, met his knowing gaze with a defiant glare.

      ‘Think of my home as your own.’

      Home had a permanent sound and Roman had never actually had a home as such. He had over the years owned various properties because he liked the space and privacy and hotel suites gave little of either.

      The only home he had known had been the town house near the university where his parents had worked and lived during term time, but his recollection of it was dim. Vacations had been spent on various digs in various far-flung corners of the globe, and when he was small he had been dragged along but usually left in the hotel room.

      Then as he’d got older and bigger he had spent his summers either staying with friends’ families or with a distant aunt of his father’s in Tuscany.

      ‘I thought you lived in Italy.’

      ‘I do for a large part of the year, but recent developments make it necessary for me to have a British base, and I have never thought that the city is the best place to bring up a child.’

      Izzy maintained her scepticism and filed away the statement to deal with later. Any spare energy she had was being used to stay upright. ‘So you just popped out yesterday and bought this place?’

      ‘Obviously not.’

      A tiny gurgling sound quickly escaped Izzy’s throat. The surprises just kept coming. Roll with the punches, Izzy, she told herself. Tomorrow this will all be a memory.

      ‘I’ve owned it for …’ he screwed up his eyes and glanced back at the building as he made the mental calculations ‘… two, almost three years now?’

      Her sapphire eyes regarded him with disbelief. ‘You’re asking me?’ How could a person own somewhere like this and not know how long they’d

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