Page 4 of The Housekeeper's One-Night Baby
Lizzie blinked at him, not sure if she’d heard him correctly. Was he actually asking herout? On adate? ‘You want to have dinner with me?’
‘Is that such a wild proposition?’
Well, of course it was. Things like that didn’t happen to women like her. She wondered what might have happened next if the shrill ring of the doorbell hadn’t echoed through the house and they both froze, as if stunned by the sound of the outside world.
‘It’s the agent,’ she whispered, peering out through the window to see a familiar figure.
‘Don’t answer it,’ he whispered back.
‘He’s...he’s got a key. He’ll let himself in.’
‘So let’s hide,’ he suggested silkily. ‘And maybe he’ll go away.’
There was a heartbeat of a pause while Lizzie weighed up the wisdom of such an action. No way should they be hiding away, like a couple of kids. Niccolò Macario shouldn’t be suggesting it and she certainly shouldn’t be colluding with it. But she knew what would happen the moment the agent walked in. He would see her—not clad in her habitual frumpy grey dress and sensible shoes, but shimmying around in one of Sylvie’s more expensive cast-offs.
And it wasn’t just his expression she was dreading—one of disbelief, quickly followed by suspicion, and a faint concern that she’d lost her marbles, or was in the process of stealing something. No, it would be the way he would behave which she couldn’t face. With that slightly patronising air which was so hard to take sometimes. Because it didn’t matter how liberal or nice people considered themselves to be, they always treated domestic staff differently. Sometimes they were a littletoofriendly, sometimes they were aloof, but one thing was for sure, they were nevernormal. They probably didn’t even realise they were doing it, but it always made her feel small. Like a second-class citizen.
And she didn’t want to feel that way in front of Niccolò Macario. She wanted to carry on pretending they were equals, with him looking at her with undisguised pleasure in his black eyes. With her revelling in the thought that he had actually asked her to have dinner with him and she still hadn’t told him yes, or no.
‘Okay,’ she said breathlessly. ‘Follow me.’ Scarcely able to believe what she was doing, she walked towards a small broom cupboard at the far end of the corridor and stepped inside, clicking on the low-wattage bulb, which brought only a meagre element of light to the cramped space. Her throat dried as Niccolò followed her and the quiet click of the door closed them off from the world, muffling the sound of the agent’s voice as he called out her name.
‘Lizzie!’ And then again, louder this time.‘Lizzie!’
But Lizzie didn’t answer. She just stood there, not moving, barely breathing—though her heart was beating so loudly she was certain Niccolò must be able to hear it.
‘This is ridiculous,’ she whispered, at one point.
‘So what if it is?’ He gave a short laugh. ‘Isn’t the very substance of life ridiculous?’
She couldn’t think of an answer to that cynical query, because that was the moment the agent chose to pass right by the cupboard and Lizzie held her breath, her skin turning to goosebumps as she met the dark glitter of Niccolò’s mocking stare.
It was very small in here, she thought. Much too confined for two people to be able to stand there and avoid touching. But that was what it felt like they were doing, even though they weren’t actuallytouching. It was as if they were in a bubble, all of their own. He was close enough for her to be able to detect his body heat, and be acutely aware of his breathing. Close enough for him to see her erect nipples, outlined boldly against the emerald silk, and she couldn’t seem to shift the inappropriate thought that she wanted him to stroke them. She wanted that very badly and that kind of raw hunger and urgent need had never happened to her before.
She didn’t know how long they stood there, while the hapless agent continued to call her name. Only that the tension seemed to increase with every second which passed—especially when she heard the faint vibrating sound of Niccolò’s phone, coming from his pocket. She saw his eyes widen but he didn’t move and she prayed the agent wouldn’t have super-sensitive hearing and come charging back down the corridor. She imagined him opening the door and finding them and, if that were the case, what on earth would theysay?
But there was nothing except the sound of retreating footsteps and after a while the front door slammed and the sound of an accelerating car informed her that they were alone once more.
Their gazes met. The tension broke and they burst out laughing, at exactly the same time. It was a heady rush of pure adrenaline. A unique moment of shared communication, acknowledging their complicity. But when the laughter died away, the tension was back, only this time it was different. It was so powerful it was almost tangible. It was all-consuming—but most of all, it was physical. Her senses were on fire. She ached with a desire and heat which was drenching her core. She felt dizzy with the sensation—helpless yet energised, all at the same time.
‘Now what?’ he questioned softly.
Lizzie wasn’t experienced enough to know what he meant yet somehow she knew exactly what he meant. She ought to move. Open the door and let some daylight in. Say something bright and superficial which would make everything seem normal again.
But she didn’t move.
Didn’t speak.
She just waited for something she knew shouldn’t be happening, which she wanted. So much. Because the weirdest thing was that somehow she feltconnectedto this man. As if this meeting was in some way predestined and everything was exactly as it should be. Was it the dress which was making her feel so decadent? The sensation of cool silk coating her skin like honey and making her feel like a real woman for once, instead of a common skivvy? Or was it that Niccolò Macario was the most gorgeous man she’d ever met and she felt as if she were in the middle of some amazing dream, with all kinds of possibilities?
Life had been tough for Lizzie. She’d grown up with more responsibilities than most of her peers. She’d learned to put everyone else first and place her own needs last, but for once she wanted to do something for herself. Something incredible. Just for the hell of it. A dinner date was a stretch too far. She’d feel far too self-conscious in a posh restaurant and he would quickly discover she wasn’t who he thought she was. And then he would be disappointed.
But right here was perfect for what she wanted right now.
Feeling a bit like Cinderella, she gazed up into the ebony glitter of his eyes.
Kiss me, she prayed silently.Just kiss me.
CHAPTER TWO
