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But more and more, she found herself lingering over the details of his personal life. It didn’t take much effort to confirm that Seve Valente was also skilled in his pursuit of the opposite sex. Was perhaps even an aficionado. Page after page of his liaisons attested to that, although the man was reportedly very much attached to hismost eligible bachelorstatus.
He was healthy. He’d run a few marathons in his younger days.
His blood type wasn’t rare enough to be a problem. His family tree was robust enough not to raise any red flags. And he wasn’t interested in attaching himself to any particular female.
He’s compatible.
Genie wasn’t sure when the idea grew from a whisper into a kernel, then into a fertile seed.
Perhaps this—her subconscious working on the problem—was why she’d experienced all that nonsensical tingling and quivering while in his presence.
The reason behind everything she was doing in the first place.
Her next birthday was in ten months. This time she planned on giving herself an altogether different gift.
A life-changing one.
I’m confident we can both walk away from this with exactly what we want.
His words held much more weight now, not that the man knew it himself.
Five minutes of his time; maybe less if her brief previous sexual experience was an indication. That was all she needed.
Provided of course that the remaining digging didn’t unearth any nasty surprises.
It didn’t. Which was why she stood in another outfit—one only slightly less comfortable than the last—outside the private entrance to her building at five to eight.
Severino Valente pulled up at eight on the dot in a sleek black sports car, the purr of its engine distinctly electric. If his choice of fuel consumption was designed to impress her, Genie reluctantly admitted it worked.
He stepped out and Genie felt that rush again. It was because of the decision she’d made, she told herself. Nothing else.
That assurance gave her permission to watch him approach. He’d changed too, swapped his formal shirt for a black one, open at the neck minus a tie, over which he wore another bespoke but more casual jacket coupled with matching trousers. His hair looked a little windswept but it was his face that arrested her scrutiny.
Grey eyes watched with impossibly more intensity before swinging past to the two burly guards positioned a few feet away.
‘Dismiss your bodyguards. You won’t need them tonight.’
Genie started, then berated herself for her lapse in concentration. She opened her mouth to do as he bade, but held her tongue for several seconds. Dr Douglas would perhaps describe it as childish but she didn’t want to show this man how eagerly her senses jumped to accommodate him. Without her express permission.
When he raised that sardonic eyebrow, she turned and nodded her dismissal.
She followed him to the passenger side of his car, where he hesitated before opening the door, his gaze tracking her body shamelessly from head to toe.
‘After the way we parted, I was convinced you’d come out in a tracksuit. You look stunning, Genie.’
The whirlpool in her belly spun faster. ‘This isn’t a social outing, Mr Valente. You don’t need to fall into predictable platitudes.’
One corner of his mouth lifted. ‘I don’t think you want me to stray outside predictability, Genie. Otherwise, I risk being intensely inappropriate.’
Sensation akin to mild electricity flowed through her veins as his gaze lingered on her mouth. To combat it, she grasped at the first defensive straw. ‘If you’re thinking of making juvenile rubbing lamp or wish jokes about my name, don’t bother. I’ve heard them all.’
He pulled the door open with smooth, suppressed force. Waited until she was installed in the bucket seat before shutting the door.
She watched him round the low bonnet of the car, his leonine glide impossible to resist watching. When an oncoming set of headlights lit up his face, the static intensified.
She continued to watch him once he slid in beside her. And then even as he reached across and secured her seat belt, reminding her that she’d forgotten. Reminding her of his focus-altering scent when she inhaled.
‘I’m many things, Genie. Juvenile isn’t one of them.’
