Page 7 of At His Wife’s Behest

The three-story villa that appeared around a winding paved drive nearly took his breath away.

It was something out of a movie. Off to the side, he viewed terraced gardens leading down toward the lake.

Whistling, he scanned the facade. He’d spent time with many wealthy clients over the last few years, but most of those had simply been a date to a charity gala or friend’s wedding.

While many of lads and ladies the agency employed were escorts, Connor wasn’t.

Not saying he hadn’t spent the night with a client here and there when the chemistry sparked, but it wasn’t his usual MO.

He considered himself a companion. He rarely slept over, and definitely not in a luxurious villa in a foreign country.

Something else was new. He was a surprise. All of his previous clients had been the one to request a date. A whisper of worry spun through his mind as he drew closer to the house. What if he wasn’t a welcome surprise? What did he do then? His return flight wasn’t for another week.

As he approached the entrance, a small, older Italian woman opened the front doors for him.

“Ana Maria?” he asked. His instructions had said one of the caretakers would let him inside.

She nodded. “Connor?” she asked, her accent thick.

“Yes, ma’am,” he answered, smiling.

“Benvenuto. Come, come,” she said, waving her hand.

He marched up the steps. When she attempted to take his bag at the door, he refused. It was almost as big as she was. “I’ve got these.”

She scoffed, stepping back nonetheless. He rolled his suitcase in and gazed about.

The round, two-story foyer was all cream marble.

A curving, black wrought-iron banister similar in style to the front gates arched along the stairs.

Nooks bearing carved busts were inset in the walls and from the opening in back, the blue of the sky and water beckoned.

“I show you to room,” Ana Maria said. She waved him onward and up the stairs. She took them slowly, gripping the railing in one weathered hand. “I put food in refrigerator and leave clean bedding. Clean towels.”

“Wonderful,” he murmured, examining the home as they traveled. He’d seen how large it was from the outside but was still stunned at all the space. Space left empty by American owners while folks like Ana Maria were left to tend to them. He wondered where it was she lived? “Thank you.”

She glanced over his shoulder, a glimmer of surprise in her eyes—as if she wasn’t accustomed to being thanked. On she marched to the top and then led him down a long, wide hall. Near the end, she opened the door and he gasped.

The view of the lake and nearby mountains was stunning. He smiled, tossing his bag to the bed and crossing to the window. “It’s magnificent.”

“Yes,” Ana Maria said, smiling with pride. She patted his arm. “I leave now.”

“I appreciate your help, signora.”

She grinned, saluting him. “Have a good trip.”

After she departed, he got a good look at the bedroom.

It was well appointed with an attached bathroom that was filled with anything he might need.

Curious, he explored the rest of the house, first checking out a massive master suite near his room before rushing downstairs.

There he found a gym, a movie theater, a ballroom, of sorts, and a dining room.

When he found another set of stairs leading down, he realized that was the main floor.

Everything was cream marble, not just the foyer, elegantly decorated—and huge .

The décor reminded him of the time he stayed at the Venetian in Las Vegas, just much more elegant and sedate.

Although, the kitchen couldn’t be called sedate.

It would make a small crew of master chefs happy.

The first-floor dining room sat fifteen.

One room filled with books, chairs, and sofas was as big as his entire apartment.

The sitting room near the back of the house was less ostentatious, but then it couldn’t compete with the view. Large floor-to-ceiling windows showed off Lake Como and the terraced gardens—as well as the other stunning homes bordering the lake.

There was also a pool with a waterfall edge next to the gardens.

He opened one of the doors and stepped outside.

While he’d left a May heatwave back in Texas, it was only in the sixties there.

Luckily, he’d done his research before packing—Lake Como was in Northern Italy, near the Swiss border, so it wasn’t the balmy Mediterranean vacation he’d first anticipated.

Moving closer to the pool, he noted steam rising off it. Crouching, he tested the water, smiling when he found it warm. That swimsuit I brought won’t go to waste. He checked his watch. His client wasn’t to arrive for another couple of hours. Might as well take advantage.

After marching up and changing, he grabbed a towel from the bathroom and returned to the water’s edge.

He dove in, the warmth delightful after his long trek there.

He did a few slow laps, his tight muscles appreciating the gentle workout.

Stopping at the waterfall edge, he surveyed the area, reveling in the beauty.

That alone was worth the trip. If he ended up an unwelcome guest and kicked out, at least he’d have witnessed that view.

Kellan searched for the hidden key Emma had promised would be left for him—but couldn’t find it.

He dragged out his cell phone and dialed her number, only for the call to fail.

Fuck. Examining the front of the house, he wondered if it were possible a door or window might’ve been left unlocked.

Probably not, and if it was, he’d have to contend with the alarm system, but what else could he do?

Leaving his luggage at the front door, he circled the property, testing every window he came across.

When he reached the back, he noted the stunning view.

He’d come to Lake Como once before with Emma and her family and been enamored, but sadly it wasn’t a happy memory.

Two weeks with Marshall Shelby had been three weeks too long.

Hopefully, his current trip might erase the last. Balance out the scales, so to speak.

It’s a shame she’s selling it. It would be wonderful to bring Abigail someday.

He missed his daughter desperately. He’d already called on the drive to the house, wishing her a good morning. The time difference was going to drive him mad the whole week.

A splash came from the pool, and Kellan’s head whipped in that direction. A stranger was swimming in their pool?

“Scusi, scusi!” Kellan called, fear mounting. The guy could be dangerous.

The man stopped and spun to face him.

“What are you doin—” Midway through the question, a familiar smile formed on the man’s lips. It took a few seconds before realization hit. “ Mr. Quaid?”

Connor Quaid washed water from his face with both hands. His eyes widened, mouth dropping open. “Mr. Rhodes?”

Silence hung for a few more seconds as they stared at one another.

Connor swam to the edge of the pool and stepped out—in a tiny white Speedo.

Kellan gasped, getting an eyeful. The Speedo left little to the imagination.

Lots of bare, tanned flesh and perfectly formed muscles.

Mr. Quaid grabbed a towel from a nearby lounge chair and dried his hair as he wandered closer.

Kellan turned his gaze away from the bulge in the man’s swimsuit, face warming.

“What are you doing here?”

“I was asked to keep you company this week,” Connor said. “Although, I didn’t know it was you, Mr. Rhodes. I would’ve said no had I known.”

He would’ve said no to being in my company? Kellan forced the disappointment from his thoughts. “Asked by whom?”

Connor wrapped the towel around his body, shivering. “Mind if we go inside to talk? It’s a bit brisk.”

The cold was helping slow Kellan’s thickening cock. Inside, he wouldn’t have that assistance. “I’d love to go inside. I can’t find the key. That’s why I was back here. Did you grab it?”

“No, but I left one unlocked.” Connor marched to the back doors and swung one open. He turned to eye Kellan, beckoning with a glance. He’d seen that same look in his fantasies over and over. A tremor raced up his spine as he fought the lust pounding in his veins.

“You coming?” Connor called before walking inside.

Kellan stood frozen for a couple more seconds. Lust coiled in his belly. His legs were rubber. Yet, the need for answers demanded he go inside. As soon as Kellan entered, he couldn’t help but get another eyeful of nearly naked Connor Quaid.

He was leaner than Kellan had assumed. Less football, more Michael Phelps. How was he supposed to get to the bottom of things with the man looking that good? “Why are you here?”

“I’m a little embarrassed to admit this, but…” Connor sighed. “In my off time, I work as a companion.” Connor’s face turned red. “To help pay off my student loans.”

“A companion?” An escort?

“Well-to-do folks are often too busy to find a date for a function, so they hire someone like me. I’ve attended charity galas, high school reunions, weddings.

Sometimes, it’s simply someone who’s lonely and wants to go out for dinner and dancing.

This is my first lavish, week-long trip, though.

I’m excited to see the sights with you.”

“Do you mean… an escort?”

Something flickered in Connor’s eyes, and fire burned in Kellan’s belly.

“While my employer does have a stable of escorts, sex is not required for my role.”

Kellen relaxed a bit, the pressure off.

“But intimacy is at the discretion of the companion.”

Kellen’s mouth went dry. From the look on Connor’s face, intimacy wasn’t off the table. Starving, Connor’s mouth dried. He wanted to belly up to that table. With gusto.

Connor looked down at his feet. “Though, that’s not something I do often. I simply like spending time with interesting people.”

Kellan was sure it was more than that. Money made the world go round. “Are they all interesting?” I’m sure not.