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Strolling forward, Cristiano curved an arm round Lydia and swept her straight back out of the room, his security men falling in behind him. She could sit by the dance floor and drink vintage champagne. That would keep her occupied and pretty much out of sight, for his table was in a private booth. He let his fingers dance down her spinal cord. Her skin felt like the softest silk.
‘You look and feel sublime…’
The caressing brush of his hand sent a spasm of almost painful awareness reverberating through her slim length. Her breasts tingled, their delicate peaks tightening.
The dark, hungry note in his accented drawl made her knees feel as bendy as twigs.
‘lf l wasn’t in the middle of a deal that’s hotting up, l’d take you home right now, bambola poca, ‘ Cristiano breathed in husky addition. All of a sudden Lydia’s knees felt a little sturdier. It seemed that nothing had changed.
Rich beyond avarice though he was, Cristiano still devoted his time and attention to getting richer, and the woman capable of distracting him from business and profit had yet to be born. He was a workaholic in denial.
‘What did you call me’?’ she asked, seeking a translation as he settled her behind a table.
Her knees now felt like concrete, unassailably steady and dependable supports. ‘Little doll’
Cristiano skated a confident forefinger gently along the exposed expanse of her slim thigh and made her jump and shiver in startled response. ‘That’s what you remind me of in that dress. it’s very, very sexy-but really not that appropriate in public.’
‘You picked it’ Lydia pointed out between gritted teeth only he didn’t hear her.
As a brimming glass of champagne was poured for her Cristiano vaulted back upright again.
‘Where are you going’?’ she exclaimed before she could think better of it.
‘l can’t make calls here… ‘ Cristiano laughed shrugging with the innate grace that accompanied all his movements and indicating the music.
‘Enjoy yourself. l won’t be long.’
‘Don’t worry about it…I’11 soon find company ! Lydia heard herself declare.
His lean darkly handsome face froze. ‘ls that a joke’?’ he launched at her loud enough for Arnaldo to frown in surprise from his position several feet away.
‘I just meant…talking…dancing-‘
‘No and no ‘ Cristiano riposted with icy force.
‘No talking, no dancing, no flirting. One false move of that nature and you’re in trouble. There will be no second chances. Don’t let me catch you even looking at another guy! ‘
Astonished by that chilling warning, and the derision in his hard gaze, Lydia had to snatch in a sudden breath and hold it to keep her temper under control. Forced to breathe again or burst she leant forward without conscious thought and said
‘You’d better tell Amaldo to watch me!’ Cristiano sank back down beside her his stunning gaze flashing flames of gold as he slowly and carefully laced long elegant fingers into the pale waves tumbling across her breast.
‘Do you know what I really want to do now’?’
he murmured huskily.
‘I want to take you back to the apartment, spread you across my bed and teach you some manners.’
Open-mouthed she stared back at him shock paralysing her while colour washed her cheeks. That graphic response ripped through her hurt pride and defiance to remind her of exactly what their relationship was.
Slowly, he got up again. She didn’t watch him walk away. Thanks to that absurd fiasco with Mort Stevens he honestly believed she couldn’t be trusted around other men. In fact he thought she was a‘femmefatale’. Why wasn’t she laughing at the idea?
Instead she drained her glass and grasped it again as soon as it was refilled. Fear of the unknown had seized her and she was fighting it off. His bed? Would he realise that she was totally inexperienced? She thought it unlikely. After all he had dismissed her claim of innocence with contempt and she had once read that most men couldn’t tell the difference between a virgin and a sophisticate. Her chin came up, her fierce pride kicking in.
Playing ‘femmefatale’ to the bitter end appealed to her. Surrendering to him would be a sacrifice and she did not want a guy she hated to appreciate that. She wanted him to think that he couldn’t get to her that she didn’t care what he did or how he behaved. Indifference would be her arbour she told herself feverishly.
Forty minutes later Cristiano broke the habit of a lifetime and delegated his phone. He strode back to his table and sat down beside her. An arm anchored round her he lounged back tugging her into intimate connection with the long, powerful splawl of his relaxed muscular body. Celebrity friends and acquaintances began to drift up for he was always the centre of attention. Incredibly tense and nervous, Lydia avoided all eye contact. Cristiano inclined his handsome head in aloof acknowledgement exchanged the occasional sally but he made no attempt to introduce her to anyone. Nobody dared to breach his reserve.
‘Why are you acting like I’m not here’?’
‘That you are with me is my business alone’ Cristiano asserted with immense cool even while he wondered why she was so on edge.
‘I hate being stared at’ she muttered wondering if she had been recognised as the former model and thief exposed by the tabloids. She thought that it was unlikely, for she had never been half as famous as most of the people present. Even so tension made her tremble against him like an animal being exhibited in a cage.
‘Get used to it.You are beautiful enough to stop traffic and you’re with me. Maintaining a low profile isn’t an option.’
He had never remarked on her looks before and before she could think better of it Lydia turned her head to whisper inquisitively,
‘Do you really think I’m that beautiful’?’
‘Why else are you here’?’ Her momentary pleasure evaporated at that caustic response and she shifted uncomfortably.
‘Can’t we dance or something’?’
‘I don’t dance. ‘
An employee signalled him from the door of th
e private room and he released her and sprang up.
A bag of nerves without his presence Lydia downed more champagne. He had bought her out of trouble on a whim-as an amusement an ego trip. Now he was laying down rules much as he intended to lay her down. Angry rebellion snaked through her. She wasn’t to dance or talk with anyone. He had stuck her in a booth and deserted her like an umbrella on a sunny day. But he had said nothing about her dancing on her own had he? Why should she hide? Straightening her slim shoulders she got up. Her head swam a little and for a moment she had to clutch the
table to steady herself. How much champagne had she drunk for goodness’ sake? Flinging her head back, she breathed in deep and headed out on to the floor.
Ten minutes later Cristiano came to an arrested halt on his passage back to her side. His ebony brows drew together above incredulous dark eyes. Lydia was dancing alone and there was a spotlight on her. Lost in the music she was spinning with her eyes closed silver-gilt hair fanning out in a glittering curtain her divine body twisting in time with the driving beat. She looked amazing. Every guy in the club was watching her with his tongue hanging out, and he didn’t like it. He wanted to drag her off the floor and take her home and that caveman instinct startled him.
When Lydia opened her eyes and saw him her reaction was not at all what she had expected.
Somehow the messy tangle of emotions he evoked coalesced inside her to produce a treacherous current of raw excitement. She had loved him once a little inner voice whispered in persuasive reminder. Wouldn’t it be wiser to make the best of a bad situation? In confusion she stilled her body awash with physical awareness. The tiny snaking curl of heat tugging low in her pelvis made concentration well-nigh impossible.
