How to accept his terms and conditions and somehow let him go with grace.
Gian lay there breathing in the scent of brewing coffee, trying to pinpoint the moment he had started wanting her.
On the day of her farcical interview, when he’d first noticed the true colour of her eyes? No, a more honest examination told him it had been before that, and even Ariana herself had voiced it: the night of the silver ball.
Or had it been when she’d swept into the planning meeting and said she wanted silver as a theme?
Instead of gritting his teeth, he had found himself smiling, at least on the inside, for Gian rarely showed how he truly felt.
But, no, while it might have started then, for Gian things had really changed the night she had worn silver. Rafael had not been there, and Gian had stood by Ariana’s side as she played host. He’d been in awe of how long she’d smiled with the guests and carried on with grace.
He’d wanted to take her aside and tell her that he knew how hard this was, and how proud of her he felt. Instead, they had danced their duty dance and he had held her back from him with rigid arms so she would not feel how turned on he was and how he had ached to drop a kiss on her mouth, on her bare shoulder.
And he was hard for her again.
‘Colazione!’ Ariana announced breakfast as she came into the room and blinked at his obvious arousal. ‘Good grief,’ she said. ‘I’m far too sore for that.’
‘Sore?’
She nodded. ‘Nicely sore, the best sore ever.’ Oh, God, she wanted him again, but then the ice cream would melt and her phone had already pinged in several messages. She had Nicki coming round and she had to do this without starting to cry. ‘Eat,’ she told him. ‘You can have the chocolate one.’
It sounded like she was making a concession, but Gian could tell when she was lying. ‘I want the other one.’
‘No, no,’ she said, ‘I’ll let you have the chocolate one.’
‘But I want the pistachio.’
‘And cardamom.’ Ariana sighed and handed the one she really wanted to him. ‘I put in extra when I made it.’
Gian, though used to breakfast in bed, was not used to this—just sitting in bed, eating and tasting food with a woman, and taking bites of each other’s.
Bites so big she nearly lost her fingers to his mouth, and they laughed as they fought over food. ‘You really made this?’ he checked.
‘Not the croissant, just the ice cream. I’m going to make salted roast chestnut next, and I shall get them from the same vendor. They were the best I’ve tasted...’
‘They’re just chestnuts.’
‘No,’ she said, and then she gave him the speech she had prepared in her kitchen. ‘They kept me warm. You kept me warm last night, Gian, even if you did not share my bed. You cared for me last night and then again this morning and I thank you.’
She had surprised him, and then she surprised him further when, with breakfast done, it was Ariana herself who suggested he leave. ‘You’d better go. Mamma might drop in.’
‘Doesn’t she call first?’ Gian asked.
‘No,’ Ariana said. ‘I always ask her to but then she reminds me that she’s my mother and shouldn’t need an appointment...’
‘I’ll get dressed then.’
‘Have a shower,’ she offered.
He declined, or he would be trailing a floral boutique all day if he used her scents. ‘I’ll have one back at the hotel.’
It was odd, Ariana thought as she lay watching him dress, that he did not call La Fiordelise home.
‘I like you unshaven,’ she admitted. ‘You’re always so...’ she fought to find the right word ‘...well-presented and groomed.’
‘It’s my job to be.’
‘Perhaps, but...’ She shrugged and his eyes narrowed, trying to interpret yet another of her actions, for those slender shoulders could say many things.
‘But what?’
‘Nothing.’ She smiled wickedly. ‘There are other sides to you, I’m sure. I guess I won’t find out now.’
‘You could. Why not tell the doorman to lie and say you’re out?’
‘He’s so lazy he’d forget,’ Ariana rolled her eyes and tried to sound casual, when in truth she wanted to cry and cling onto his leg and beg him to never leave.
Not a good look, that much she knew!
‘You really ought to go,’ she said as he buckled his belt, though she wanted to reach up and unbuckle it so she was only half listening as he spoke.
‘So how do you have a private life, with her dropping in and out? How do you have a...?’ And then his voice faded. After all, this morning had been her sex life to date. ‘You’ll be okay?’ he checked as he did up the buttons of his shirt and half tucked it in.
‘Yes.’
‘If you’re not...’
‘Gian,’ Ariana broke in. ‘I have my family and I have my friends.’ He hovered on the edge of both of her inner circles but was not fully in either. She felt the indent of the mattress as he sat down and bent over to do up his laces, and though she ached to reach out to him, Ariana told him of the practicalities of her day. ‘Also, Nicki is dropping by to tell me about her holiday...’
He sat up and looked right at her. ‘As opposed to coming by to see how you’re faring after the loss of your father?’
‘Of course she’s coming for that.’ Her eyes narrowed as she took in his sulking mouth; she knew he didn’t like Nicki. ‘It’s a bit early in the relationship for you to be dictating who I see. Oh, that’s right, it’s not a relationship, and even if it were...’ she gave him a tight smile ‘...that still wouldn’t give you a right to say who my friends are, Gian.’
‘Fine.’ He put
