Anything for You Ch. 05

I frowned, leaning forward for a closer look. Ah—the collar on the first shirt was slightly wider and there was a very faint white stripe shot through the fabric of the second. "That one," I told him, pointing at the second shirt.

He smiled approvingly, hanging the shirt I'd chosen on the back of the door before thrusting the other one back on the rail. "Well,cara. It's nearly Christmas, of course. I can't ask you to come to Italy before the New Year, although obviously, the sooner you can come to me..."

Not bothering to finish the sentence, he sent me another winning smile as he unfastened his tie then started to unbutton his wine-soaked shirt.

Oh holy cow... He was going to undress right in front of me?

"May-maybe I could," I said quickly, feeling I ought to turn away but soon finding I couldn't, mesmerised by the sight of Marco's lightly-tanned chest being revealed one tantalising inch at a time. Besides, that would look odd, wouldn't it—me jerking my eyes away? He'd think I was embarrassed and that really would be embarrassing. And he clearly wasn't self-conscious at all.

Why would he be? a little voice in my head said, utterly spell-bound by the time he reached the last button. He had the body of a Greek god—no, that should be Roman god, shouldn't it?

Whatever. My mouth had gone dry again.

"I could ask Roxy to do a few extra hours over the Christmas holiday," I squeaked. "She'd probably appreciate the extra money—she's saving up to go to uni next year. And that would probably buy Alice enough time to advertise for an assistant—"

"No, Samantha," Marco broke in, looking concerned. "Truly—I can't ask you to come sooner. At Christmas, you must be with your family. That's what it's all about."

I shook my head. It'd been a long time since I'd experienced anything resembling a 'family Christmas'. "It wouldn't matter," I told him as he crossed to the bathroom, his ruined shirt dangling from his fingertips. I still couldn't tear my gaze from his seriously ripped torso. "Honestly. Christmas isn't like that for us. Not anymore. Not since..."

He paused in the doorway, his eyes warm with understanding. "Not since your brother died?"

"No."

Of course, he didn't know the full story. Very few people did. It was so much easier, I'd discovered early on, to keep the facts of my brother's death separate from my part in the whole sorry catastrophe. I could tell people that he'd died from kidney failure, that although he'd had a transplant, it had failed. I could cope with the sympathy I received for the loss of a sibling. But sympathy expressed over my own brush with death? It merely rubbed salt into the wound. A wound that refused to heal.

"That must be difficult." His voice was soft.

You have no idea, I wanted to tell him. But to tell him that would've told him too much. It would've opened the door to questions I really didn't want to answer. "Yes," I said instead, forcing a small smile. "You know..." I rose to my feet. "You should probably rinse that shirt out in cold water. I'll do it for you if you like—"

"No... No,cara." Marco's horrified grimace was almost comical. "I wouldn't dream of letting you do that. It will take only a moment. And then—" He broke off at the sound of a loud rap at the door, appearing momentarily disconcerted. "Oh, of course," he said, his smile returning. "Room service. The champagne. No—I will rinse my shirt. You open the door, please?"

Smiling back, I nodded, feeling an odd mixture of relief and remorse when the half-naked Italian disappeared into the bathroom. Men with bodies like Marco's should come with a health warning stamped across their foreheads, I thought as I headed across the room. Caution: seeing this man undressed may seriously increase your heart rate.

Although bizarrely enough, I wasn't entirely sure I was into muscular men. Oh sure, getting to see Marco without his clothes was something of a treat, there was no doubt about that. But maybe it wasn't a sight I'd want to see all the time. His body was almost too perfect. How could any normal girl live up to that, let alone someone like me? No, I decided, feeling a new smile tugging at the corners of my lips as I reached for the handle and wrenched the door open. Marco was pretty. Very pretty. But the naked man in my most erotic, most x-rated daydreams, well. He looked a lot more like...

The man standing right in front of me now.

"Oh my God." I stared at him in astonishment, seeing the very same astonishment mirrored in his gaze. "What the hell areyou doing here?"

*

Yes I know - I've made you wait like forever and this isn't even a very long chapter. But I hope you'll forgive me for that cos this seemed like a natural place to end this one - and it should make it easier for me to get on with the next chapter. That's the plan, anyway... :-)

Thank you so much for all your votes and comments and emails and words of encouragement/kicks up the rear. They've all helped, even the ones that made me cry. ;-)

I'll do my very best to be back soon!

Lily

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