The Untouchable by Gina Rossi Read Free Book Online

dubious origins. He sat for a while longer, irritation seeping away as he thought about her scent, fresh in his cold nostrils, the flecks of violet hidden in her sunlit eyes and her rich, brown hair, streaked dark gold in the winter sun.
    Lifting a wrist to his nose, Marco smelled his cuff. There, again. That crisp, green fragrance he’d caught moments ago, while he spoke to her through the car window.
    Rosamaria Hamilton had gate-crashed his head.
    His heart had done something funny when he saw her. Not her, exactly, but just her car. Just the car. Strange. His heartbeat had quickened, rather like when you saw someone you liked, but unexpectedly. Then, of course, she’d bloody knocked him off! She’d apologized profusely, been upset, more upset than him, come to think of it. Initial impression? She was different than other women he knew — natural, unaware of herself, sincere, and passionate. Although, the passion wasn’t obvious. It would have to be teased out, brought to bloom with care and tenderness.
    Stop. No. To hell with all that .
    Marco reached for his helmet and stood up quickly. He had better move it or he’d run out of time. Besides, there was heavy rain coming in spite of what the weather report said. He glanced at the clouds, checked the bike over for damage, replaced his helmet and gloves, and started the engine. Perhaps he should call it a day and go home. On the other hand, the rain would probably move east and miss him. He sat astride the bike for five minutes, engine running, undecided.
    No, he’d go. He’d ride up to Apricale, clear his head and be back well before dark.

 
     
    Chapter Eight
     
    “Your neighbour is who ? And you did what ?”
    “I know, Fi. I feel terrible. I mean, he was rude, but it was my fault.” Rosy held her mobile to her ear with her shoulder, while she made tea.
    “How did it happen?”
    “I wasn’t concentrating. The irony is that I was actually thinking about him. How insufferably rude he is, how arrogant and up his own arse he is—”
    And how he says my name. Rosa-maria
    “And then you ran him over?”
    “I knocked him off his bike, hard.”
    “Sounds like it served him right.”
    “He wasn’t hurt.”
    “That’s the main thing, although he’d be a fool to come anywhere near you again.”
    “Thank God he wasn’t injured, or...I-I couldn’t have dealt with that.”
    “I know. I know. And listen, while we’ve been talking I’ve Googled him. He’s awesomely good looking, six foot three, rich as you like, and recently single, although there are a number of conflicting reports here. Looks like an on-off relationship that’s finally gone sour.” She sighed. “Pity he’s a twat because he’s right there and eligible, on your doorstep.”
    “Just my luck,” Rosy said, to humour her friend. “I must go. There’s heaps to do. Thanks for the call, Fi.”
    She rang off, realizing seconds later, horrified at her carelessness—that she hadn’t even asked Fiona how things were going at Red Velvet. Fiona didn’t yet know about her inheritance, and still carried a weight of anxiety regarding the future.
    She called her straight back. “I can’t believe I did that, Fi!”
    “Sweetheart, everything’s fine here. We’re winding down nicely for the Christmas break. But, say what you like, you’ve had a bit of a shock. Of course you’re distracted, and you sound exhausted. Tuck up in bed for a couple of hours, read yourself to sleep, take it easy. Go on. I have to get back to work. I’ll call you later.”
    “I’ve got some news—”
    “It can wait. Go sort yourself out. We’ll talk later.”
    They said goodbye and Rosy went upstairs, taking her tea. She took off her shoes, set the alarm for five p.m., and climbed into bed. She drank the tea while she flicked through a magazine, then cuddled down under the quilt and went to sleep.
    Awake at four, she got out of bed and looked through the window, unsettled by the darkness and sudden strong