The Passionate Italian 11 DECEMBER EPUB Read Online Free PDF Page B

stayed, without movement, close, but held separate by conflicting powers, like two opposing magnets.
    A short sharp knock at the door broke the spell and Rose pulled herself up in the bed, away from Giovanni.
    She watched as he exchanged a few words with the steward at the door before returning to a sofa in the corner of the room.
      What the hell was he doing here anyway? She’d gone to bed alone under the impression that Giovanni would be staying in the main cabin. And she didn’t remember pulling the duvet across herself. She was just thankful that she hadn’t undressed.
    She pushed the duvet off and glared across the dimly-lit cabin at Giovanni.
    “How long have you been there?”  
    “Several hours.”
    “What have you been doing?”
    “Watching you.”
    “Not the world’s most exciting spectator sport.”  
    “With you it is. I never know what you will say or do—awake or asleep. It can be very entertaining.”
    She glared at him.
    “And, I was also thinking.”
    “Aren’t you tired?” she asked quickly in a desperate attempt to change the subject. She really didn’t want to know what he was thinking about.
    “Concerned about what I might be thinking?”
    “Concerned that you’re tired and that I’m occupying the only available bed.”
    “Yes, I might have joined you but you really leave little room for guests. It’s curious how someone as short as yourself can manage to spread yourself across the king-size bed, just as you used to.”
    “I’m accustomed to sleeping by myself. Certainly not used to being fussed over. Did you put the covers over me?”
    He nodded. “The air conditioning has been turned down. You would be cold otherwise.”
    “I can look after myself.” The words of independence sprang to her lips from habit. But it wasn’t how she felt. She felt cared for, for the first time since she’d left him.  
    “ That has never been in any doubt.”
    She sighed and relaxed back on the bed. How could she remain angry with this man when he was so damned considerate? It was enough to make her angry again.
      She eyed him quizzically. “So what other things about me are in doubt?”
    He stood up and walked over to her slowly—each step creating a corresponding shiver down her spine. What was it about him, she wondered, that made her feel so acutely. His dark eyes seemed to have such depths, such knowledge of her, that all her senses went into overdrive while her capacity for thought disappeared altogether.  
    “I thought I knew you well, once, but I knew little. I have been watching you, trying to understand.”
    Her heart thumped uncomfortably in her chest.
    “There’s not much to understand.”
    “Don’t be disingenuous. I’m not interested in facile banter.”
    “Well,” she smiled brightly at him, hoping she’d be able to deflect his serious turn of thought. “Shame. Because I’m not interested in the serious stuff.”
    “Then go back to sleep. You look tired still.”
    She swung her legs over the side of the bed, away from him.
    “No, I’m fine. I haven’t slept that well in a long time.”
    “It is because I am with you.”
    She grinned, despite herself. “I’ve missed your macho confidence.”
    She walked past him to pour herself a glass of water. She felt his eyes on her but willed herself not to react.
    “Have you cara?”
    She took a long, studied drink of the water.
    “Don’t let it go to your head. I’ve missed many things.”
    “Like?”
    “Italian cheese.”
    “Cheese. That’s it?”
    He stood up, took the water from her and placed it back on the table.
    “That’s all I can think of at the moment.”
    “Would you like to know what I missed?”
    She shook her head slightly and licked her lips, suddenly dry with anticipation.
    “No thank you.”
    He cupped his hand around her cheek.
    She closed her eyes, trying to keep her thoughts straight. “Giovanni. Please. You take the bed, let me get on with some work.”
    “Work can wait. Besides I