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Alicia gasped. ‘It’s not a veneer or a facade. If you can justify sending an entire airplane into the skies just to bring me some clothes, then go right ahead. And if you can sleep with your conscience, then so be it, but I think it’s disgusting.’
Dante watched her with fascination. She was leaning forward, face alive, luminous. And all he wanted to sleep with right then was her. Her quick condemnation burned him again but he would not give in to the satisfaction of telling her the truth. Let her stew.
‘Well, then, you’d better get ready to be disgusted because we’re on the way to take a helicopter to Lake Como right now. And just remember, you weren’t disgusted when that plane was available to take you back to England at a moment’s notice.’
She couldn’t tear her eyes away from the censure in his. Yet again he’d managed to make her feel in the wrong.
She turned her head and looked unseeingly out of the window, her whole body tense and taut. She felt unbelievably
exposed in the silky top and flimsy skirt. The silk of the new panties was also an unwelcome sensual reminder every time she moved, of the man who lounged on the seat only inches away. Little had she known that her actions would have brought her to this … back in Italy, to be paraded as Dante D’Aquanni’s newest lover. She might as well be part of the harem of some desert king. What she’d just endured was the equivalent of being washed and sent to his tent.
Dante ached with the restraint it took not to reach out and haul her into his lap. But he imposed an iron will and he’d just remembered something. Her apparent ease and knowledge of the helicopter must have come from working with them in Africa. It made something uncomfortable lodge in his chest, and for the rest of the journey they were mutually silent.
The same benignly smiling housekeeper showed Alicia to her room. It was a different one from the one she’d spent that night in. The room she’d been locked in. She tried to hang on to that feeling of outrage as she sat on the bed and looked around, but it was hard. It was fading. Dante had surprised her by showing her where the study was and informing her that she could use it whenever she wanted to call Melanie.
Then he’d handed her over to the housekeeper, who he’d introduced as Julieta, and informed her that they’d eat at five p.m. He’d told her to make herself at home. A far cry from the last time. She stood somewhat shakily and went to look out of the window. The lake was spread out before her and took her breath away in the early afternoon sunshine.
Exploring a little, she looked around the room, found the en suite bathroom and then another door. Assuming it to be a dressing room, she opened it, only to find herself in another bedroom. His. She knew it without a doubt. It was huge, dominated by a massive king-size bed. Simple yet discreetly elegant furnishings—not too stark and masculine but enough of a stamp to make it unmistakably male.
At that moment his door opened and Alicia stood there, her eyes growing round, transfixed when he walked in. He was pulling off his tie, undoing the top button of his shirt and then stopped, seeing her.
His eyes raked her up and down. Took in her slight form, the jacket gone, the smooth skin of her shoulders bared. Took in her exquisitely shaped calves, her tiny bare feet. She had kicked off her shoes. Her hair was pulled back and one long tendril lay over her shoulder.
‘I thought this might be a dressing room …’
Dante spread out an arm, a hard smile playing around that seductive mouth. ‘By all means, you can dress in here if you want.’
She stood stiffly. ‘You know what I mean.’ She turned. ‘I’ll go. Sorry for disturbing you.’
He muttered something in Italian behind her and she turned again. ‘Excuse me?’
He looked slightly tortured for a second and something in that look made an answering quiver erupt deep in her groin. But she couldn’t trust what she’d seen—it had to be her mind playing tricks.
‘Nothing. Go. You should rest. You’re going to need it.’
A fear of something powerful moving through her made her blurt out, ‘Do we have to have adjoining rooms?’
He nodded and walked towards her. She backed away. ‘The guests will expect that we will be sharing a room, not merely occupying adjoining rooms, but here we can get away with it.’
She shook her head. ‘But—’
He interrupted her. ‘But when we go to South Africa we will share a room, whether you like it or not.’
Alicia’s head swirled ominously. ‘Hang on a second.’ She put out a hand. as if that might stop him from advancing. ‘South Africa? Since when were we going to South Africa?’ She felt all the conflicting emotions arise again—the reason she’d run there in the first place, the heartache, the unimaginable pain she’d witnessed, the physical pain, hardship and scars she still bore.
Dante saw the colour drain from her face and frowned. ‘I said that the first week would be here. South Africa is the venue for the last two weeks and the main part of the negotiations. That’s where we’re proposing to finalize the deal and embark on our first project which will be the construction of a huge sports stadium just outside Cape Town. That has been at the centre of this merger. Thousands of companies competed for the job and we got it on the basis of the merger being successful. So even that at this stage hangs in the balance.’
Alicia felt weak. She wanted to sit down. ‘You never mentioned that.’
‘What’s wrong?’ he asked sharply, coming closer.
Alicia stepped back jerkily. She felt far too vulnerable to be under close scrutiny.
‘Nothing.’ She tried to smile, ‘I just hadn’t expected to be going back there so soon, that’s all …’ She’d be fine. She wasn’t going back to the same place. She’d be at the other end of the continent. She turned and put one foot in front of the other. ‘I’ll see you at five.’
And once in her own room, she closed the door and leant back against it breathing shallow breaths. She’d had no idea the thought of returning to Africa would affect her this badly.
Minutes later she paced up and down the floor. It wasn’t as if she’d experienced any more or any less than any of the other aid workers. But still … the remembered fear gripped her and the pain seemed to flare in her lower back … it could have been so much worse. And she’d stuck it out after that, determined not to be weak, to give in … but then when he’d arrived, that had been the final straw and she’d returned home. And that still made her feel guilty. That she’d let a man influence her actions—again. He’d driven her there, and then away too.
