Reckless Nights in Rome by C. C. MacKenzie Read Free Book Online Page A

Rosie
loves to burn up the dance floor.” Mortified, Bronte realised she
was babbling. And decided she really needed to get a grip.
    Unable to meet
his eyes she focused instead on his chin, which was a mistake since
just above it was that amazing mouth with the sensual bottom lip.
It was important to Bronte to apologise for her behaviour this
morning. She’d deliberately insulted him. There was nothing worse
than being in the wrong.
    “Look, I want
to apologise for my behaviour ...”
    Before Bronte
could finish her carefully rehearsed speech, he took her hand,
rubbing his finger over the back of her knuckles as his eyes caught
and held hers.
    “Please, do not
worry. I should have made it clear the letter was an invitation and
not another offer. But I could not resist bringing the spark to
your eyes. You are quite beautiful when you are angry.”
    She was?
    Then she
wondered if it was an Italian thing the way he always wanted to
touch her, because she seriously wished he wouldn’t since it kept
her off balance and scrambled her brain cells.
    A commotion at the
entrance alerted them to the presence of a tiny flower girl with
black curls, flushed cheeks and over excited eyes.
    A pink circlet
of flowers hung at a crazy angle on her head. Spotting the wedding
cake, she let out a yell and headed straight for it.
    Bronte moved to
intercept, scooped her up in her arms with a laugh and spun her
round to delighted squeals and giggles.
    “Oh, no you
don’t, Melissa Jane Lucas. You can have cake after the ceremony.”
She gave the child a big kiss on her rosy cheek. Melissa dimpled
adorably so Bronte indulged herself with a soft kiss on the small
nose and adjusted the circlet of flowers on her dark head. “And
don’t you look like a princess? Are those new shoes?”
    Three year old
Melissa dressed in pink silk taffeta with huge puffed sleeves and
skirt that made her look like an irresistible fairy, batted big
blue eyes. She arched a foot that wore butter soft ballet pumps in
white leather, nodded and stuck a thumb in her mouth. Someone,
Bronte realised with a smile, had missed her nap.
    “There you
are.” The pregnant sister of the groom, looking flushed, plucked
Melissa out of her arms and air-kissed Bronte’s cheek. “Thank you.
I’m going to enter this one for the sprint in the Olympics. Gosh
the cake looks fabulous, darling. You are so clever.”
    She stared at
Nico with a look in her eye that was pure female checking out an
attractive male. With a roll of her eyes at Bronte, she rushed off
with Melissa gazing longingly at the cake over her shoulder.
    For a big man,
Nico moved fast.
    His breath sent
a frisson of awareness from her neck to her toes.
    The firm hand
at her waist and deep voice in her ear made her tremble in
reaction.
    “Good with
children too, I’m impressed.”
    The words might
have been like a dagger to the heart, but the low suggestive purr
in his throat scorched her cheeks. His breath fanned her ear, the
scent of him making her head spin. She knew it wasn’t his fault, he
had no idea she may never have a child.
    Emotions all
over the place, instinctively Bronte moved out of reach.
    The hot
expression in his eyes cooled and the realisation she’d annoyed him
again made the nerves in her stomach wind even tighter.
    The man tied
her every logical thought in knots.
    “It’s all part
of the job.”
    She took
another step back, cleared her throat and smoothed the table cloth
with a hand that was far from steady.
    He took a step
forward and she forced herself not to retreat.
    “Have dinner
with me tonight,” he said, without taking his eyes off her face. It
wasn’t a request.
    As a result of
her stomach clutching, her chin lifted with sheer bravado.
    “No, thank
you.”
    Dark eyes
explored her face as his thumb caressed her jaw. He studied her
mouth as if it was the last Belgian chocolate in the box.
Attraction flooded her system and his pupils dilated as his eyes
stayed on hers.
    She