“Oh, please continue,” he said magnanimously, voice dripping with smug amusement. “I have obviously jumped to a wrong conclusion.”
“Why do you have to be like this?” She shot her arms straight at her sides, fists tight, chest brimming with frustration, eyes hot. “I can’t help being attracted to you, Rocco. It’s cruel to make fun of me for it.” So unfair.
His expression altered, the teasing expression falling away so gravity could take its place.
“Do you really believe I’m not suffering in the same way, bella? All I think about is London.”
“Because you didn’t get what you wanted?”
“Yes,” he agreed tersely. “I wanted an affair with you. One long enough to burn out this fire that insists on smoldering between us.”
Her heart seesawed in her chest, wavering between wanting to believe he felt the way she did and knowing she shouldn’t. Believing he didn’t want her was much safer than believing he did.
“But I don’t pressure women into bed.”
“London messed with my head,” she blurted, brow flexing in old anguish. “I no longer trust myself to know why someone is coming on to me. That’s why I agreed to marry Axel. I knew he didn’t really care about me, but at least he was up front about what he was hoping to gain from our engagement.”
“You know what I want to gain from this,” he said tightly. “We don’t have to have sex for me to get it. If we become lovers, it will be because that’s what we want. No other reason.”
Ifthey became lovers? Would they?
She found herself searching his eyes, watching them narrow, his expression growing angular. Intent. Hungry.
“Is that something you would like?” he asked.
She yanked her gaze away and hugged herself, unable to lie even though the truth was terrifying.
“I know you think I’m ready to sleep with anyone who buys me a glass of wine, but I’m not,” she choked out.
“I don’t think that,” he said evenly. “I think you and I have exceptional chemistry and we’re losing the battle of fighting it.”
She drew in a sharp breath, alarmed, but also…excited?
“But here is my driver telling me he’s waiting to take us to the theater.” He touched where a muted ping had just sounded in his jacket pocket. “Come.” He took her long coat from the closet and held it for her. “There is a very conceited part of me that can’t wait to be seen with such a gorgeous woman.”
She moved to stand with her back to him, but that only allowed their gazes to clash in the mirror. He read her skepticism.
“Mirabella,” he admonished. “You will have to get used to my praising your beauty. In the same way you can’t help feeling attracted, I can’t help noticing how lovely you are and remarking on it.” He gathered her hair from beneath her collar, making her shiver when his fingertips grazed her nape.
“You just said you wouldn’t pressure me into bed,” she reminded his reflection.
A very slow, masculine smile tilted his mouth. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t seduce you into it.”
Her stomach flared with apprehension.
While her blood fizzed with intrigue.
“Let’s go.” He held open the door. “Before I decide to keep you here.”
If Mira had thought being in public would hit the pause button on Rocco’s threat, she was sorely mistaken.
He took full advantage of every excuse to touch her, holding her hand to help her in and out of the car, then anchoring his arm around her for photographs. After the film, he splayed his palm on her lower back while they congratulated actors and directors.
They had to run another gauntlet of photographers when they left, but Rocco said, “You’ll like the restaurant. It’s very private.”
He was right. The atmosphere was intimate and low-key. They were seated at a love seat behind a small table that allowed them to watch the quartet tucked behind the postage-stamp of a dance floor.
“Did you like the film?” Rocco asked once their wine had been poured.
