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In her eagerness to change the channel she hit the wrong button and instead of switching channels the volume went up to a deafening level in time for her to hear the presenter’s reveal, ‘Cesare Urquart. Who among us can forget the famous crash that ended his driving career?’
Hand extended towards the television, Anna froze as the sound of cars screeching around the track through driving rain filled the screen. A second later the scene was transformed into a wet version of hell as the car being lapped swerved, causing the one behind to hit it. The second car sailed into the air before landing yards away upside down...then just as Anna was about to breathe again more cars ploughed into the second car, one after the other until nothing was left but a twisted mass of metal. Then unbelievably from the twisted mass a figure appeared. He climbed out of the wreckage, took several steps before pulling off his helmet and crumpling to the ground, just as the wreckage exploded sending a fireball into the air. It was at that point that the emergency vehicles that had arrived en masse then cut the solitary figure off from the camera’s lens until he reappeared on a stretcher. Anna couldn’t take her eyes off the seemingly lifeless hand that skimmed the ground, leaving a trail of blood.
The presenter was speaking again, his magnified voice bouncing off the walls of the room, but Anna didn’t hear what he was saying. Her eyes were welded to the screen. She couldn’t even blink as they replayed the crash, this time in slow, sickening motion that magnified each horrific blood-chilling moment.
It was the loud imperative banging on the door that enabled her to break the connection with the screen. She was shaking her head just as Cesare walked into the room, still dressed in the same clothes he had been wearing earlier. He was looking a lot less pristine, though, even with his jaw dusted with a thick layer of stubble, his cropped dark hair standing up in spiky tufts and his eyes slightly bloodshot, he managed to put the sexy into haggard.
‘What the hell is going on? You’ve woken half the building.’ A slight exaggeration, actually a massive exaggeration. The thickness of the walls meant that it was unlikely anyone but him had heard the blast of noise emanating from the apartment, unless that person had been sleepwalking along the corridor just below.
After the silence of the previous three hours it had shocked him out of his skin seeing her sitting there in one piece and not the victim of some noisy accident. His concern turned to anger.
She didn’t answer him, just looked from him to the screen where a programme still played. He followed the direction of her stare, his frown deepening as he recognised the rerun of the programme that had outraged his sister so much a few months earlier.
Swearing softly, he walked across to the wall and pulled out the plug.
After the deafening noise the smothering silence was profound. Anna could hear her own heartbeat.
‘What are you watching that rubbish for?’ His deep accusing voice sounded loud in the sudden silence. He extended his hand, impatiently flicking the cuff of his shirt so that he could read the time on the face of the silver wristwatch. ‘It’s half one in the morning. Why aren’t you asleep?’
‘Why aren’t you?’ She laughed. How typical of Cesare to blame her for something that was not her fault.
‘What is funny?’ He had spent the last three hours fighting the impulse to walk through that door. Now he had and the question was, would he be able to walk back out? Did he even want to?
Stupid question, of course he didn’t want to, but a man could not always have what he wanted even when it was within grabbing distance. Soft, warm and sweet-smelling and within... His jaw clenched down hard as he bit out a savage epithet.
His anger rolled over her, but she didn’t mind. It was proof that he was alive, that she was alive. A fact that should, she realised, be celebrated, not taken for granted. Cesare was standing there and he very nearly had not been. A miracle, they’d called it, and they were right. It was a miracle. Life was so fragile. Anna had never realised just how fragile until that moment.
It had taken seeing him almost die, a glimpse of a world that did not contain arrogant, unreasonable, breathtakingly beautiful Cesare Urquart, for her to realise that she wasn’t just in lust with him. Somehow she had fallen in love.
‘Did you hear me? It’s half past one in the morning.’ Conscious he was repeating himself, he lowered his gaze and found his attention drawn to the silky curve of smooth skin, exposed where the baggy neckline of the skimpy nightshirt she wore had slipped over her shoulder. He was unable to halt his hungry scrutiny and it travelled down, lingering on the length of slim, shapely leg. In his head he saw himself sliding his hand beneath the hem to cup her smooth, rounded bottom before tugging the shirt over her head to reveal those soft, sinuous curves.
