Under the Italian's Command by Susan Stephens

little she could say in her defence . She’d been feeling low and had sought refuge in a bar, which hardly sounded like the reasoned actions of a Unicorn scholarship candidate.
     
    Lorenzo’s knock on the bathroom door made her spill bath water on the floor.
     
    ‘Are you decent?’
     
    ‘Yes…’ Well, she was cloaked in a glittering foam blanket.
     
    ‘I’m coming in.’
     
    She sank beneath the foam.
     
    ‘Drink this.’
     
    She cautiously pushed herself back up a bit. Lorenzo was offering her a mug of warm milk. ‘I hate warm milk.’
     
    He ignored her complaint. ‘Drink it while it’s hot. I added honey and a sprinkling of cinnamon.’
     
    Great. Nursery food.
     
    ‘Good girl…’
     
    She curbed the urge to spit out a milk fountain in favour of sipping slowly to see if he would stay.
     
    ‘Don’t move.’
     
    It worked.
     
    ‘I’m going for some more towels…’
     
    She’d made an impression!
     
    He returned with an armful of towels, but now it came to it he was rather more man than she could handle. Her body might be telling her to prepare for contact with some hard, tanned flesh, but she was losing her nerve.
     
    He hunkered down.
     
    ‘What are you doing?’
     
    ‘Drying your hair. Maybe that way you won’t catch a chill and take time off work.’
     
    Some impression!
     
    When Lorenzo had finished drying her hair he held out a bath sheet, allowing her to climb out of the bath with her modesty sadly intact. As if that weren’t humiliating enough he told her to clean her teeth and stood aside.
     
    Fantasies would be the death of her.
     
    They went into her bedroom.
     
    ‘Night clothes?’ Lorenzo prompted.
     
    She reached inside the bedside drawer where she stored her sexy sale bargains.
     
    ‘What’s that?’ Lorenzo demanded as she held up a wisp of lace. ‘Haven’t you got anything sensible?’
     
    Like grandma’s bloomers?
     
    ‘How about these?’ Fishing deeper than she had, he emerged triumphantly with a pair of pink flannelette pyjamas . ‘These will keep you nice and warm.’
     
    So could he…
     
    ‘Climb into bed,’ he ordered, returning to the door.
     
    This was not going to plan. This was not going anywhere. For all she knew Lorenzo might have sisters, but she didn’t want to be one of them.
     
    ‘Don’t worry about over-sleeping. I’ll wake you in the morning.’
     
    ‘What about our talk?’
     
    ‘We’ll have it tomorrow…’
     
     
     
    ‘ Carly …’
     
    ‘ Mmm …’
     
    ‘It’s time to get up.’
     
    No. He couldn’t wake her now. ‘Leave me,’ she said grumpily. ‘I’m asleep…’ She had no intention of getting out of bed so soon after Lorenzo had taken so much trouble to make sure she stayed there. ‘Did you have to do that?’ With a groan of disapproval she tried to shield her eyes. From arrows of sunlight?
     
    ‘Did I have to pull the curtains at ten o’clock in the morning? Yes, I most certainly did, young lady.’
     
    ‘Ten o’clock in the morning?’ Carly shot up and rubbed her eyes. The evidence was undeniable. Lorenzo was wearing his three-piece suit, and he’d shaved. He was ready for work, and the thin winter sunshine was streaming into the room.
     
    ‘You’ve slept long enough.’ His eyes narrowed. ‘You wouldn’t want to be late for work.’
     
    There was an edge to his voice that suggested she had better not be.
     
    ‘I won’t be late.’
     
    ‘Half an hour in my office.’
     
    Half an hour? ‘I’ll be there.’
     
     
     
    Last night had been his biggest test yet, and the night of the Grand Court had been the turning point in his mind between Carly Tate, promising law student, and Carly Tate, promising innumerable erotic delights. But this was question time and office time, Lorenzo reminded himself. He wanted to know more about her before writing his report for the scholarship committee. ‘So, your parents are supportive?’
     
    ‘Absolutely…they couldn’t be more