"Yummy," said Emily as Jess gave a pirouette. "Like a gorgeous hand-made chocolate. Lorenzo will take one look and want to gobble you up." She grinned as a knock on the door silenced Jess's protests. "Go on. Let him in."

When Jess opened the door Lorenzo gave her an all-encompassing scrutiny, then kissed his fingers to her in reverent silence. She mimed a kiss in return, then ushered him into the room and introduced him to Emily.

"Piacere." Lorenzo smiled gently and took the hand the invalid held out, retaining it in his for a moment. "How are you feeling. Miss Shaw?"

"Emily, please!" She returned the smile shyly. "I can hardly help but feel better after all you've done for me, Mr-"

"Lorenzo, perfavore," he corrected quickly. "I am here not only for the pleasure of meeting you, but to make sure there is nothing you need."

"You've thought of everything," she assured him. "I can't tell you how grateful I am. I wish there was some way I could repay you."

"That is easy. You have only to make a full recovery," he assured her. "Jessamy has told you I am driving you to my home tomorrow?"

Emily went very pink. "Yes, indeed. It's amazingly kind of you."

"Lorenzo, how do you think she looks?" said Jess later, as they walked towards the lift.

"Very fragile, cara. But do not worry. I have asked Anna to accompany us for a few days to look after her."

"This is all a huge expense for you," said Jess, frowning.

"I am being selfish. I do not wish you to tire yourself with constant nursing." Lorenzo shrugged. "I promise you I can afford professional medical care for a few days. Otherwise where is the problem? You will be living in my house, with my cook preparing your meals. But none of that matters," he added, as they entered the lift. "As I have said before, carissima, for you I would do anything."

Jess reached up to touch a caressing hand to his cheek, her eyes narrowing suddenly as it dawned on her that the lift was going up, instead of down. "Do you have two restaurants in the hotel, then?"

"No. One only." When the lift stopped at the top floor Jess gave him a questioning look as she stepped out into a corridor with arched windows which gave it the look of a colonnade. Lorenzo led her towards a pair of double doors at the end, unlocked them and gave her a little bow as he led her through a small foyer, and opened one of the doors to usher her into what was very obviously the salon of a private apartment.

Jess stood very still just inside a large, beautiful room which opened out onto a balcony. The furniture was elegant: chairs and sofas upholstered in velvet and brocade, paintings and mirrors in carved, gilded frames on the walls. And in eye-catching prominence in the centre of the room a small table was laid for two, complete with a silver vase of flowers. She eyed it all with dismay, only now realising how much she'd wanted to dine in the hotel restaurant, with Lorenzo attentive at her side, displaying pride in his companion to the world. His world.

"The apartment you spoke of," said Jess tonelessly at last. "I assumed it was somewhere else in the city. But I was wrong, wasn't I? You live here, in the hotel."

Lorenzo frowned. "Yes. Of course. What is wrong, Jessamy? I thought you would prefer to dine alone with me here. Downstairs in the restaurant all my staff would naturally take much interest in my-my companion."

"Instead," she said lightly, "they'll think you've brought me here for a lot more than just dinner. This, I assume, is where you bring the ladies who allow those privileges you talked about."

The animation drained from Lorenzo's face, leaving it blank as a Venetian carnival mask. "I bring no one here except family," he said, after a long, painful interval. "This is my private place." He strode past her towards a telephone on the carved credenza. "Like a fool I thought you would be happier here than in the public restaurant. That you would want to be alone with me." He shrugged negligently. "No matter. I shall ring to reserve a table."

"Not much point in that," said Jess, disappointment sharpening her voice. "The damage is done."

"The only damage is to my pride," he retorted with arrogance. "No one knows the identity of my guest, Jessamy. However, since you so obviously do not wish to dine with me after all, I shall ask for a table for one in the restaurant. You may eat there alone."

Jess stared at him in utter dismay. "I can't do that."

"Then I shall escort you back to your friend, and you shall ring for room service." His eyes glittered coldly, and Jess shivered, appalled at the sudden chasm yawning between them. One unconsidered step, she realised in sudden panic, could plunge her into it. with no way out. And belatedly she remembered how much she was indebted to him.

"I'm sorry," she said in a constricted voice quite unlike her own. "I didn't mean to offend you. Especially after you've been so kind-"

"Do not insult me by talking of expense again," he flung at her.

"Lorenzo, please," she said in desperation. "If I've jumped to the wrong conclusion I apologise."

He stared at her malevolently. "You thought I brought you here to rush you straight into my bed, it seems. Perhaps even before I allowed you to eat dinner."

"Like Lord Byron-" Jess bit her lip, cursing, not for the first time, her tendency to say the first thing that came into her head when she was nervous.

Lorenzo looked blank, "Mi scusi? What is your poet to do with this?" The cold glitter faded from his eyes as they followed the tide of colour which rose from the neckline of her dress to the roots of her hair.

"I read a book about him once. A biography," she said gruffly, unable to look at him. "On his wedding day he-he disposed of his wife's virginity on the sofa before dinner."

Lorenzo breathed in so deeply she could tell, even without looking at him, that he was fighting to master his temper. "And when you saw this room you expected me to do the same?"

"No. Not exactly." Jess raised her head and looked him in the eye. "That wouldn't have been possible."

Without taking his eyes from hers he gestured towards a deep-cushioned couch upholstered in honey-coloured velvet. "I have a sofa," he said very quietly.

Jess nodded. "But I'm not a virgin."

Chapter Seven.

The words echoed in the room, and, suddenly desperate for air, Jess turned on her heel and went out onto the balcony. By this time the moon was high enough to paint a glittering path across the Amo. She leaned her hands on the balcony rail to gaze down at it blindly, cursing herself for a fool. She was twenty-four years old, without a shred of false modesty about her appeal to men. No one in the world she came from would expect her to be inexperienced. Yet she been mad enough to fling the fact in Lorenzo's face like a gauntlet because she wanted him to know before... Before she became his lover, of course. And if that was her intention, and her desire, as she now so clearly saw it was, it seemed a touch irrational to make a fuss about dining alone with him in his apartment

Slim brown hands appeared beside hers to grasp the balcony rail.

Jess stood very still, conscious in every nerve of the male presence beside her. She glanced up at last at the dauntingly stem profile. "Lorenzo, I'm sorry. I've behaved like an idiot. But it was something Emily said just before you came for me."

He looked down at her, frowning. "Emily? What did she say?"

"When I was ready she said I looked-"

"Incantevole?"

"What does that mean?"

"Ravishing," he informed her, something in his voice telling her that hostilities, if not over, were at least suspended.

"She actually said you'd want to gobble me up," Jess muttered.

"What is this 'gobble'?" he demanded.

"Devour, I suppose."

"Ah!" Lorenzo nodded. "I see. And when I brought you here you assumed she was right."

Jess slanted a troubled look at him. "I wouldn't blame you. From the night we met I've given you every reason to believe that the moment the opportunity arose I would share your bed. I won't lie. I want this, too. Some time soon."

"But not as soon as this."