Page 29 of His Housekeeper's Twin Baby Confession
‘Are you saying you want me to stay?’
Massimo’s gut clenched.
You really don’t do this,prompted a little voice.
But he ignored it. ‘I want you again.’
‘I—’ She stopped. Her cheeks flushed.
A sound like a giggle came out of her mouth and she put her hand up, embarrassed. Then she took it down. She was serious. And shy. An intoxicating combination.
She said, ‘I want you too.’
Desire surged. Massimo reached out and lazily flicked the sheet away from her body. ‘Then we won’t be needing this, will we?’
CHAPTER FIVE
WHENCARRIEWOKEup she was totally disorientated and still drowsy. It was bright outside. She wasn’t in her own room. Her body had never felt so heavy. Or so tender. Especially between her legs...
She was fully awake in an instant. The bed beside her was empty. She sat up, holding the sheet to her chest. Someone had pulled it over her.Massimo.
Carrie had no idea what time it was, and she had that awful stomach-swooping sensation of having overslept. There was no sound at all. The en suite bathroom was empty but there was still a hint of steam in the air, as if it had been used not that long ago.
She spotted her dress, carefully laid over the back of a chair, and groaned when she recalled Massimo ripping off her underwear. She gingerly got out of the bed and found a robe hanging on the back of the bathroom door. It was still warm. Instant heat flooded Carrie’s veins and she had to resist the urge to bury her nose in the fabric.
She saw the glittering necklace on the bedside table but couldn’t see her underwear anywhere, so she gathered up the dress and shoes and crept out of the bedroom, using the stairs to go to her own room on the lower level.
Once in her room, she shucked off the robe and dived into the shower, turning the water to hot. She closed her eyes and lifted her face to the spray—but suddenly she was inundated with a slew of X-rated images from the previous night.
The second time they’d made love Massimo had almost forgotten to use protection and had thrust inside her before he’d remembered, with a curse. The thought that she could enflame such a man was seriously intoxicating. She had to put her hands on the wall of the shower, suddenly feeling unsteady at the memory of such passion.
The significance of what had happened hit her again. The fact that one night with Massimo had shown her in no uncertain terms that she was a woman capable of feeling intense pleasure and—she blushed—giving it. If Massimo’s reaction had been anything to go by...
But it was over now. One night. Massimo never deviated in that practice.
She went cold in spite of the hot spray.
The thought of never again experiencing the sublime rapture of last night sent a skewer of pain through Carrie’s gut. Then she felt disgusted with herself. She wasn’t like the lovers she’d seen over the years with desperation in their eyes. She knew better.
She got out of the shower and briskly dried her hair, tied it back and put on her work clothes. She needed armour.
She went to the kitchen and the chef was there. Carrie felt as if she was branded with a scarlet letter on her forehead—H for Harlot—but he just said, ‘Morning, Carrie, having some breakfast?’
She shook her head. She had no appetite. Not until she’d seen Massimo and got over that first hurdle. ‘No thanks, is Lord—I mean, Mr Black, here?’
The chef indicated with his head. ‘In the dining room.’
Carrie took a deep breath and straightened her shirt. She was wearing trousers and flat shoes. Cool, clean, crisp. Professional.
When she went in, Massimo was hidden behind a newspaper. She cleared her throat. He lowered the paper and she felt a wash of heat go out to every extremity from her core. He looked...amazing. Clean-shaven. Hair still a little damp.
He put the paper down, his eyes flicking over her clothes. ‘Good morning.’
Carrie was almost struck dumb. ‘I... Good morning...can I get you anything?’
‘What’s going on?’
‘What do you mean?’
