Italian Mavericks: Bound By The Italian's Bargain. Miranda Lee

and Milan,’ she told him, her casual tone amazing her. Maybe she was as good an actress as Charlie said she was.

      ‘I see,’ Sergio replied. ‘Look, I’m almost finished here, which is just as well,’ he added ruefully. ‘I haven’t been this hot in living memory. Go down to the kitchen and get Maria to open a bottle of my favourite Chablis, will you? She knows the one. We can share it down here on the terrace. I’ll just have a quick swim first,’ he added and walked down to the far end of the pool, where he stood there with his legs slightly apart and his arms by his sides before glancing up at her again. ‘I’d suggest you join me in the pool but I imagine you’re feeling jet-lagged after such a long flight.’

      ‘I am tired,’ she managed to reply, thinking she hadn’t felt this hot in living memory either. Or ever, for that matter.

      Despite her knowing she should stop ogling Sergio, her gaze kept roving over his near-naked body, marvelling at how utterly gorgeous he was without clothes on. Better looking than any man she’d ever been to bed with. He was perfectly shaped, his broad-shouldered chest tapering down into a slim waist, a tight butt and long, strong legs. He also had just the right amount of muscle. Whatever Sergio had been doing over the years he hadn’t become a couch potato. Which begged the question of what had he been doing with himself since their parents’ divorce? She doubted he’d been working in the family firm if he was living in London. The Morelli business was in Milan. Unless, of course, Alberto had given Sergio charge of a London branch, the way his father had sent him to Sydney all those years ago.

      This train of thought momentarily distracted Bella from her embarrassing ogling, curiosity over what Sergio did for a living making her agree to go in search of Maria, and that bottle of wine. At least, she told herself it was curiosity. It couldn’t possibly be because she wanted to see him up closer, or wanted to find out, not so much about his career path, but about his personal life.

      By the time Bella settled herself at the table on the terrace, however, she admitted to herself that that was exactly what she wanted to find out. But to what end, Bella? she asked herself as she surreptitiously watched Sergio surging through the water with effortless ease. You’ve come here to Lake Como for peace and quiet, not to have an affair with your long-lost stepbrother. Which is what might happen if you start flirting with him. Bella knew men found her desirable. Some claimed to find her irresistible.

      Till they get you into bed, that is, came the stark reminder. Then, after a while, they don’t find you quite so desirable, or irresistible. Face it, Bella, you are a bore in bed. A failure. You might be beautiful to look at but you are incapable of being truly turned on. Your finding Sergio physically attractive means nothing. You’ve always been attracted to tall, dark and handsome. Unfortunately, that attraction never seems to translate into passion, the kind that bypasses shy and forces you to lose control.

      Bella had always envied the way her lovers sometimes lost control. It would be wonderful, just once, to lose control. But she never had. Perhaps she never would. Or could. Maybe it was something she’d inherited from her mother, whose iron will and self-control bordered on obsessive. Maybe her shyness when naked was not shyness at all but an unwillingness to let down the in-built defences that came from being the daughter of an embittered and cynical woman. Bella had no doubt her mother loved her but it was a warped kind of love. Possessive and controlling and manipulative.

      It was at this depressing point in her train of thought that Sergio stopped at the end of the pool less than three metres from the table Bella was sitting at.

      ‘Time to get out,’ he said, bringing her attention to his face; his sexily unshaven face.

      Bella smothered a sigh of exasperation at her ongoing thoughts. Common sense demanded she drag her gaze away from Sergio, but she could not. So she watched, heart racing, as he placed his two palms on the flat surrounds and pushed upwards, his biceps bulging as he propelled himself out of the pool in a single leap. He landed like a big cat on the flagstones, water streaming down his chest as he straightened then slicked his hair back with large wet hands. Bella’s breath caught in her throat as she just stared at him, her hungry gaze raking over his gorgeous male body from top to toe.

      Thank heavens Maria appeared with the ice bucket and glasses at that point, Bella glad to have an excuse to turn away and help her. Not that looking away from Sergio achieved all that much. It hadn’t taken more than a couple of seconds for her to spy what was on display within the confines of his tightly fitted shorts. Not only was Sergio hotter looking without clothes on than any man she’d ever been with, but he was bigger. Quite a bit bigger, if her eyes hadn’t deceived her.

      Her mouth dried as she imagined how it would feel to be made love to by a man of such impressive proportions. Though making love was hardly what she had in mind. The sexual fantasy suddenly filling Bella’s head was not romantic, or gentle. In it, Sergio was taking her without foreplay, without tenderness, without lies about loving. She did not want to be told he loved her. She just wanted sex. Raw, naked, animal sex.

      Not just attraction this time, Bella accepted shakily as she picked up the bottle of wine that sat in the ice bucket in the middle of the table. This was lust. The most famous of the seven deadly sins. Infamous for its power to seduce and to destroy; for banishing consciences and making fools of the most sensible people.

      As much as Bella craved the scenario of losing control, she’d hoped she would be in love at the time, not in lust. When she’d arrived here, she certainly hadn’t envisaged falling in lust with Sergio. The possibility that she might make a fool of herself with him truly horrified her. By the time he wrapped a towel around his hips and joined her at the table, she’d managed to banish that wicked fantasy to the far reaches of her mind, determined not to give in to urges that were not very nice. Already they threatened to spoil her holiday, something she refused to allow. She needed this break, quite desperately. What she did not need was to fall victim to feelings that were strictly sexual and superficial. She did not love Sergio. She didn’t even know him any more. If truth be told, he was virtually a stranger. The boy she’d once known and liked had become a man. A man with his own life and his own plans. A man who undoubtedly already had a woman in his life. Only a fool would imagine otherwise.

      After the break-up with Andrei last year, Bella had vowed to stop being a fool where men were concerned. Time to test that vow!

      Gathering herself, she schooled her face into a mask of indifference to Sergio’s near nakedness and poured him a glass of wine.

      ‘You swim very well,’ she said coolly as she handed him the glass. ‘But then, you always did.’

       CHAPTER SEVEN

      AS SERGIO REACHED to take his glass, he looked deep into her lovely but very cool blue eyes. Yet they hadn’t been cool a few seconds ago. They’d been hot and hungry as they stared at him. He’d been sure of it.

      Not a sign of anything now, however. She was all cool sophistication as she sat there, looking cripplingly desirable in a silky floral sundress. She was too thin, of course. Women who lived their lives in the spotlight were always too thin in Sergio’s opinion. Perversely, Bella’s slenderness only made her more desirable, giving her tall, willowy body a fragility that was both appealing and provocative. Her porcelain skin was free of make-up, her glorious blonde hair up in a style that showed off her long, elegant neck and pretty shell-like ears. She wasn’t wearing lipstick, but then her lips didn’t need lipstick, her mouth full and lush and pink in its natural state.

      Sergio’s gut tightened as he imagined kissing that mouth. And that neck. And those ears. When he started imagining a whole lot more, he told himself to get a grip.

      ‘I seem to recall you were quite the little fish as well,’ he said, and took a welcome swallow of the cold wine. The swim had achieved only marginal success when it came to dampening the sexual heat Bella always evoked in him. He’d still been half erect when he exited the pool, and was now back in full flight, an uncomfortable state of affairs given the restrictions of wet Lycra.

      But he was used to pain where Bella was