His body’s
wayward response angered him and guilt pricked. This woman had destroyed
Sandro.
‘This is my
property. Or had you forgotten?’
‘You implied
I’d be here alone.’
‘Did I? Are
you sure?’ Of course she wasn’t. He’d chosen his words carefully. Even to his
enemies, Domenico didn’t lie. Seeing her skittishness he’d deliberately
neglected to mention he’d arrive here today. ‘I fail to see what my travel
plans have to do with you.’
He waited for
her to splutter her indignation. But she merely surveyed him through slitted
eyes. He sensed she drew her defences tight, preparing for battle.
Was she like
this with everyone or just him?
‘You came to
make sure I don’t steal the silver.’ The sarcastic jibe almost hid her
curiously flat tone. Yet he heard that hint of suppressed emotion, as if she
was genuinely disappointed.
As if what he
thought mattered.
Domenico
frowned, instinct and intellect warring. He knew what she was, yet when
he looked at her he felt…
Abruptly she
pulled her robe in tight, as if only now realising the loose front revealed the
shadow of her cleavage. Methodically she knotted the belt, all the while
holding his gaze. Why did it feel like she was putting on armour, rather than
merely covering herself?
Did she know
with the light behind her, the wrap revealed rather than concealed her curves?
Was it a deliberate ploy to distract him?
His voice was
harsh. ‘I leave it to my security staff to watch for thieves.’
Did she
flinch? He remembered her rosy flush in court when evidence had been presented
about the jewellery she’d been given by or stolen from Sandro.
No sign of a
blush now.
‘What do you
want?’ Her insolence made his hackles rise.
It was on the
tip of his tongue to deny he wanted anything but pragmatism beat pride. He was
here for one reason only and the sooner he fixed it the sooner he could put
Lucy Knight firmly in the past.
‘I do have
some business to discuss with you but-’
‘Ha! I knew
it!’ She folded her arms and Domenico had to force his gaze above the plump
swell of her breasts, accentuated by the gesture.
‘Knew what?’
To his chagrin he’d missed something. He who never missed a nuance of any
business negotiation.
‘That it was
too good to be true.’ Her lip curled. ‘No one gives anything for nothing.
Especially you.’ Her gaze flicked him from head to toe as if she read his
body’s charged response to her. His skin drew tight. Fury spilled and pooled.
At her dismissive tone. At himself for the spark of arousal he couldn’t douse.
‘You’re here,
aren’t you? Safe from the media?’
‘But at what
price?’ She stepped close, eyes flaring wide as if she felt it too, the simmer
of charged awareness, palpable as a caress against overheated flesh. ‘There are
strings attached to this deal, aren’t there? A price I have to pay?’
Domenico
looked down his nose with all the hauteur six centuries of aristocratic
breeding could provide. No one doubted his honour. Ever.
‘I’m a man of
my word.’ He let that sink in. ‘I offered you sanctuary and you have it. There
are no strings.’
Yet if she
hadn’t been so stressed yesterday she’d have made sure of that before agreeing
to his offer.
Domenico
muffled a sliver of guilt that he’d taken advantage of her vulnerability. The
stakes were too high, the trouble she could cause too severe for him to have
second thoughts.
Her perfectly
arched eyebrows rose. ‘I’m free to leave?’
Domenico
stepped back and gestured to boats moored in the bay. ‘I will even provide the
transport.’
He wished
she’d take him up on the offer. Yes, he wanted more from her but instinct
warned him to be rid of her. He didn’t relish the discordant tumble of his
reactions to her. There was nothing logical or ordered about them. She made him
feel…things he thought long dead.
Her eyes
bored into his, as if she sought the very heart of him. ‘But you want me out of
the limelight.’
‘Of course.’ He
shrugged. ‘But I’m not keeping you prisoner. There are laws in this country.’
Her breath
hissed and she stiffened, reading his implication. That one of them at least
was honest and law-abiding.
Her mouth
tightened but otherwise her face was blank. So much for vulnerability. Lucy
Knight was tough as nails.
‘If you’re
staying…’ He looked at her expectantly but she said nothing. ‘We can discuss
business when you’re dressed.’ He glanced at his watch. Eleven o’clock. ‘Shall
we say midday?’
‘Why delay?
I’d rather know what you want.’
She spoke as
if he hid something painful from her. He almost laughed at the idea. Once he
made his offer she’d be eager enough.
‘You’re
hardly dressed for business.’
She stuck her
hands on her hips, her pose challenging and provocative. ‘You’d be more
comfortable if I wore a suit? Why can’t you tell me now?’ Again those delicate
eyebrows rose, as if she silently laughed at him.
Something
snapped inside.
He stalked
across till he stood close enough to inhale the scent of soap and fragrant
female flesh. Close enough to hook an arm round her and haul her flush against
him if he chose. Instead he kept his hands clenched at his sides.
She refused
to shift. Even though she had to tip her head back to look at him, exposing her
slim throat. Heat twisted in his belly, part unwilling admiration at her nerve,
part implacable fury.
His gaze held
hers as his pulse thumped once, twice, three times. The artery at her throat
flickered rapidly and she swallowed. Yet she didn’t look away.
Charged
seconds ticked by. Her pupils dilated. His senses stirred. Did he imagine that
hint of musky arousal in his nostrils? The quiver of anticipation in the air?
Her breasts
rose with her rapid breathing, almost but not quite brushing against him. The
woman staring back defiantly was no modest, unprotected innocent.
The thought
pulled him up. He’d almost forgotten this was about her, not him.
She wasn’t as
unaffected as she pretended. He saw the fine tremor running under her skin. Her
tongue flicked out to swipe her lips and he bit back a smile. For it wasn’t a
consciously slow, seductive movement but sure evidence her mouth had dried.
Nerves or arousal?
Domenico
leaned close, letting the heat of her body drench him. Her lashes flickered and
her trembling pulse accelerated. His quickened too.
Holding her
gaze, he reached out and snagged her belt. Instantly she stiffened, but she
didn’t retreat.
Was that a
challenge in her eyes?
Her breath
was a warm, sweet sigh against his chin as he tugged the bow undone, loosening
the fabric around her.
Domenico bent
his head and her pursed lips softened. Her eyes widened and something flickered
there. Fear or anticipation?
‘My office in
an hour. You’ll be less easily distracted if you’re fully dressed.’
He
straightened, spun on his heel and left her.
