Кэтти Уильямс – Italian Bachelors: Ruthless Propositions: Taming Her Italian Boss / The Uncompromising Italian / Secrets of the Playboy's Bride (страница 22)
Once again, get real, Ruby.
She knelt down and took interest in what Sofia was doing. She’d plopped the crab line into the water for the fourth or fifth time, but so far no luck. The little girl heaved out a sigh. ‘Fish go ʼway,’ she said slightly despondently.
Ruby couldn’t help but smile. Despite her self-contained manner, Sofia had a little bit of her grandmother’s flair for drama in her. She forgot herself, looked up at Max to share the joke. He was crouching the other side of Sofia, who was sitting on the edge of the fondamenta where the railings parted, her little legs swinging above the water, and their eyes met across the top of her head.
Ruby almost fell in the canal.
It was all there, everything he hadn’t said last night and everything he had.
Oh, heck. Just when she’d almost managed to talk some sense into herself.
And it still all did make sense. He was her boss. He was going back to London in a matter of hours. He was her total polar opposite. In what world was that anything but a recipe for disaster?
Everywhere but Venice, she discovered as a slow smile spread across her lips. She felt she must be glowing. Actually radiating something. It would probably scare the fish away.
She wanted to lean across, press her lips to his, wind her arms around his neck and just taste him. Feel him. Dive into him.
‘Fish!’ Sofia yelled, and it was almost her who did the diving. She got so excited she almost toppled off the edge into the canal. It was only Max’s quick reflexes that saved her.
After that they made sure they had their eyes on Sofia instead of each other at all times. It didn’t matter, though. It was pulsing in the air around them, like a wonderful secret, a song carried on a radio wave that only they could tune into.
She felt it as they ended their crabbing expedition, a weary Sofia rubbing her eyes and complaining about being hungry. She felt it as they stood mere inches apart at the front of the boat, Max steering, her holding Sofia so she could see over the top of the little motorboat’s windscreen. Felt it as they passed buckets and nets and bags to each other from boat to dry land.
As they pulled the last of the luggage from the boat and headed into the large downstairs hall of the palazzo Ruby turned to Max, made proper eye contact in what seemed the first time in decades. ‘What time’s your flight?’ she asked, plainly and simply.
It was all very well dreaming on the canals, but their feet were back on solid ground now. It was time to anchor herself back in reality, remind herself of what really was happening here.
‘Five o’clock,’ he said.
She nodded towards the first floor. ‘You’d better get going if you’re going to get any work done before you have to stop and pack.’ She held out her hand to take the nets from him.
Max looked at her for a long while, and an ache started low down in her belly. ‘Yes,’ he said, and then handed her the nets and set off up the staircase, taking the steps two at a time.
* * *
Ruby jiggled her leg while she waited for Sofia to finish brushing her teeth. Once she’d had a try herself, Ruby dived in and gave them another going-over. As mundane as the task was, she was glad of something to do. Sofia had had an extra-long sleep that afternoon. Ruby had gone into her room again and again, expecting to find her jumping on the bed, but each time Sofia had been sprawled on the mattress, her pink rabbit tucked in the crook of her arm and her thumb in her mouth.
She’d heard Max leave the palazzo around three. His plane was probably somewhere over the English Channel now.
He hadn’t even said goodbye.
A stab of something hit her in the stomach, but she forced it away. She bundled Sofia from the bathroom and back to her bedroom, where she found Fina sitting on the bed, waiting for them.
‘You are looking tired, piccola.’
Ruby ruffled Sofia’s hair. ‘I don’t know why, after that mammoth sleep she had.’
Fina smiled and tipped her head on one side. ‘I was talking about you, my darling.’
Ruby tried not to react. Was it really that obvious?
Fina waved her hand in a regal manner. ‘Well, it is all for the good. I came to say I would read Sofia her story and put her to bed tonight, so you go and relax in the salon.’
Ruby shook her head. More sitting around with nothing to do—the last thing she needed. ‘It’s my job, Fina—’
Fina stopped her with an imperious eyebrow lift. ‘But I wish to. So...off you go.’ And she dismissed Ruby with a gracious smile.
There wasn’t much Ruby could say to that, so she sloped off in the direction of the salon to do as she was told. The setting sun was streaming in through the windows when she entered the room, almost blinding her, and at first she didn’t see the dark shape by the window, but after a moment or two the dark smudge morphed into something more solid.
Ruby’s mouth dropped open. ‘B-but I thought you were going back to London!’
Max turned round. He was silhouetted against the ornate arches, and she couldn’t see his face, let alone read his features.
‘So did I.’
She shook her head. ‘What changed?’
‘Nothing...and everything.’
He stepped forward out of the light and Ruby could see he wasn’t wearing his suit, just dark casual trousers and a light sweater. Her heart began to beat faster.
‘But this afternoon, when I carried on using the ideas from your doodle and incorporating a pared-down Venetian style into my plans for the institute, I realised I need to be here, not in London. I need to get my inspiration from the source, not just inaccurate and misleading memories. I’ve spent all afternoon wandering around looking at buildings I’ve known all my life and seeing them with completely fresh eyes.’ He shook his head.
Ruby glanced over her shoulder towards the corridor, and Sofia’s bedroom. She could just about hear the warm tones of Fina’s voice as she read her granddaughter a fairy story. ‘There’s something to be said for stripping the preconceptions and prejudices of the past away and looking at things with fresh eyes.’
‘Did my mother put you up to saying that?’
She turned back, expecting him to be scowling, but his face was almost neutral, save for the barest hint of a smile.
One corner of Ruby’s mouth lifted. ‘No. I think I’m quite capable of irritating you without outside help.’
Max laughed, and it made something rise like a balloon inside Ruby and bump against the ceiling of her ribs.
He walked towards the door in the path of a long, golden shadow. ‘Come on,’ he said.
Ruby frowned, but she turned to follow anyway. ‘Where?’
He stopped and looked back at her. ‘You missed seeing Venice at sunset last night because I had an attack of stupid. It’s only right I should make it up to you tonight.’
AS THEY WALKED along the little wooden dock in front of his mother’s palazzo, Max couldn’t help but remember being there with Ruby the night before. He jumped down into the little speedboat, and Ruby followed him. Without even asking, she helped with the ropes and fenders.
She’d only been here a week, and no one had shown her what to do. She’d just picked it up, that quick mind of hers soaking up all the information and putting it effortlessly to use.
She sat in the stern as he drove the boat away, silent. The outfit tonight was the plainest one yet. No hippies. No rock chicks. No damn strawberries. All she wore was a cream blouse with soft ruffles, a pair of capris and a light cardigan thrown over her shoulders. He watched her drink in the way the setting sun made every façade richer and more glorious, harking back to the days when some had actually been covered entirely in gold leaf.
In fact, he found it hard to stop watching her.
But he needed to.
Ruby Lange seemed bright and sunny and harmless, but she was a dangerous substance. She dissolved through his carefully constructed walls without even trying. He really should keep her at a distance.
Then why did you invite her to come out with you this evening?
Because it was the right thing to do. He’d acted like a total idiot the previous evening and so he was making it up to her. And he’d given his word. He’d said he’d show her Venice at sunset and so he was going to show her Venice at sunset.
Yeah, right. You keep telling yourself that. It has nothing to do with wanting to be alone with her, with wanting her to melt those walls that have left you claustrophobic and breathless for too long.
Max steered the boat down the canal and busied himself doing what he’d come here to do—no, not spend time alone with Ruby, but offer his services as tour guide and boat driver. He beckoned for her to come up and stand beside him, pointed out a few landmarks, and they talked easily about history and architecture for at least ten minutes.
It wasn’t working.
Inside there was a timer counting down, ticking away the seconds until the sun slipped below the horizon and he and Ruby would be cocooned in the dark. He couldn’t stop thinking about it.
He needed to remember why this was a bad idea, remember why Ruby wasn’t right for him. As alluring as she might be, last night’s uproar had proved one thing quite firmly: Ruby Lange ran when things got too close, when things got too serious. And these days he was nothing but serious.