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If only she could have Chiara here with her. With just a simple cuddle, her little girl would make everything better. She always did. Damn her own stupidity, for somehow losing her passport. And then the thought that Salvatore had something to do with its disappearance struck her again. And this time, the sense grew, bigger and bigger, until she totally believed it to be true. How else would it have just vanished into thin air? He’d never wanted Chiara to go to Australia, so this would be the perfect way to stop her without seeming like the bad guy. Instead, he’d painted her as the one who’d ruined Chiara’s chances of being there. Salvatore was totally capable of such malice. So why was she ignoring the possibility?
If hehadtaken it … how dare he?
And how dare she keep allowing him to walk all over her?
A sudden rush of red-hot fury gave her the oomph to sit up through the wave of dizziness. Lying around was going to achieve nothing constructive. She knew what she had to do to rectify the situation. She had to get her big girl knickers by the corners and reef them up nice and tight, because once she returned to Italy and opened the results of the paternity test, she was going to need all the girl-power she had, and then some, to face the truth and make things right. Because deep down, she was kidding herself if she believed there was a possibility that Salvatore was Chiara’s father. Even though there could be, Chiara was nothing like him, physically or emotionally.
Swinging her feet over the side of the bed, Jess hovered for a moment, trying to somehow work out how the room was rotating. Clutching the side of the bed while shaking her head, she tried to clear the hangover haze before slowly rising. Grabbing her phone from the dresser, she tried to bring it to life, but it was dead as a doornail. A quick glance at her reflection in the mirror gave her a moment of pause. Her hair was a wild mess and her mascara had smudged underneath her eyes. She looked like a hot mess, but she didn’t have time to worry about her appearance. She should find her rescuer and thank him for being so accommodating.
Totally unaware of what time it was, she quietly tiptoed from the room, grimacing when the door squeaked as she opened it. In a few quiet strides, she was standing in the upstairs hallway, looking down the corridor towards Morgan’s bedroom. His door was shut. All was quiet. From what she could tell of the golden rays streaming through the skylight above her, the sun was well on its way to owning the day. Surely he’d be at work by now. As she made her way towards the staircase, she tried to push away thoughts of lying in his bed, cuddled up against his strapping chest after a night of toe-curling intimacy. She tutted. Far out, she had it really bad for him. She needed to slap some common sense into herself, real quick.
Tiptoeing along the hall, she wondered if she should check if hewasstill in bed, so she could thank him for letting her stay the night, before absconding. It would be the right thing to do. So, stopping short of his door, her heart pounded in her chest as she raised her hand and gently knocked. She held her breath. There was no response. She knocked again, a little firmer this time, and the door creaked open. She peeked in, noting the neatly made king-size bed and open windows. His room was so manly. She liked it a lot. She couldn’t help but smile as a long-ago memory found wings and fluttered up from the depths of her heart. They’d only made love the once, but Morgan had proved that passionate night that he was everything she’d ever wanted and more. He’d been gentle yet voracious, tender yet possessive. Knowing it was her first time, just as it was his, he’d taken his time, exploring every inch of her body, making her feel like she was the only woman in the world. Making her feel loved, cherished, adored, safe.
She shook her head, trying to disperse the poignant thoughts that were threatening to consume her. Morgan had been the best thing that had ever happened to her up until that very pivotal point in her life. And then along came Chiara. Now her daughter was the centre of her world. The very reason she lived. The best thing that had ever happened to her. One day, she hoped, Morgan would feel the same, because becoming a parent was the best feeling in the world. One day, if the paternity test confirmed what she felt in her heart, she hoped he would love Chiara just as much as she did.
Feeling like an intruder, she turned away from his private space just as the scent of bacon smacked her appetite into overdrive. Following the delicious aroma, she made her way down the stairs and along the hallway. Then she watched, unnoticed, from the doorway as Morgan moved around the kitchen like a well-oiled machine. Her heart melted a little more at the sight of him in another of his elements. The strong realisation that this handsome man, after all she’d put him through, had still taken her under his wing, had been prepared to be her friend again, and had looked after her so caringly since arriving here – well, he was a saint. She, on the other hand … She had no idea what she’d done to deserve his warm hospitality and his kindness, but she was eternally grateful for it.
Thoroughly enjoying the view, she stood watching him for a few more moments, taking in every detail of the wonderful man she’d lost. She needed to drink all of him in before making her presence known. He looked so moreishly rugged, in a sleep-tousled kind of way, and wore only a pair of boxer shorts. Her gaze swept over his broad shoulders, wide enough to carry the weight of the world, and his strong arms worthy of holding some lucky woman real close. Tattoos wound around him, in all the right places, adding to the bad-boy edge he now possessed in spades. He was muscular but not overly so, just enough to give him that naturally masculine, rugged look. His hair was slightly messy, likely from sleep, and her fingers itched to comb through the thick strands as she pressed up to kiss him good morning. Back in the day, that would’ve been exactly what she would’ve done, when she’d had the right to.
Now, she didn’t dare.
She felt that familiar pang of guilt in her chest. She had no right to stand here, watching him. But she couldn’t help it. She missed him, missed the way he used to hold her, the way he used to whisper in her ear, the way he always made her feel so safe, so loved.
As if sensing her eyes on him, he turned, unwittingly bursting her bubble as he flashed her his charismatic smile. ‘Hey, morning, Jess.’
Her stomach performed a little backflip as she took a deep breath, trying to steady her racing heart, and stepped into the kitchen. ‘Good morning,’ she said, her voice a little husky.
‘I thought I’d whip us up some fodder, before heading out to start my day.’ He turned to her with a warm smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
‘I can see that.’ She effortlessly returned a smile as wide as his as she walked towards him, feeling a little flustered under his intense gaze. ‘And it smells absolutely delicious.’
‘Cool, well let’s hope it tastes as good as it smells then, hey.’ He turned back to the stove and flipped the bacon over.
Pulling up just short of being able to reach him – she couldn’t trust her self-control right now – she watched as he expertly scrambled some eggs and poured them into a buttery pan. His movements were smooth and effortless as he folded the eggs from side to side then sprinkled grated cheese over the fluffy mound.
‘Pull up a seat, Jess,’ he said, gesturing towards the stools. ‘It’ll all be ready in a sec.’
She felt bad sitting while he was doing everything. ‘You sure I can’t do anything to help?’
‘Nope, I got all of it covered, but thanks.’
She nodded and took a seat at the kitchen bench, her eyes never leaving him.
‘How did you sleep?’ she asked, resting her chin on her clasped hands.
‘Like a log.’ He turned to face her again. ‘How about you?’ His voice was a little husky.
‘Same, although I woke up with a doozy of a hangover.’ She squinted against her headache.
‘Yeah, I thought you might’ve, and I have just the trick to get rid of it for you.’ He paced over to her, and reaching into his pocket, drew out a blister packet of tablets. ‘Take two of these.’ He took off towards the sink, and grabbed a glass of water, returning swiftly. ‘Pop them in, wait until they’re dissolved, throw it back, and you’ll be feeling a hundred percent in no time.’
‘What are they?’ She turned the foil packet over, reading the name.
‘A mixture of vitamins, taurine and zinc, and they work a treat, trust me.’
Trust him? She most certainly would, with her life. ‘Great, thanks, Morgan.’
She tossed two effervescent tablets into the water and waited, while watching Morgan once again. The muscles in his arms flexed as he gathered plates and cutlery while also whipping up two cups of coffee. He was certainly a man who knew his way around the kitchen. Her heart ached to bear witness to this each and every day, or better still, to be joining him on his culinary adventures, and she was forced to look away before she crumbled into a sobbing mess. Grabbing her glass of purple fizzy remedy, she tossed it back then jiggled in her seat. It tasted horrible. But hopefully, as he’d said, it would work a treat. As Morgan plated their breakfast beside her, the air around her felt as if it crackled with electricity, and her skin prickled with goosebumps. She wondered if it was only her, or if he felt it, too. He was close enough now that she could smell his intoxicating scent, a mixture of soap and something else, something distinctly Morgan, and she had to fight the urge to lean in and inhale deeply.
