Things were already in motion. When Caius spoke, people jumped. Within seconds, they were being ushered out of the ballroom and down a corridor and into an empty reception room.
Once in the room, the woman looked at him and he couldn’t help but notice the way the wet fabric of her shirt was clinging to her breasts. They looked high and full, and he could see the dip of her waist and long legs. She had a very classic womanly elegance underpinned by a sensuality that sent a spike of awareness into his blood.
She said, ‘This really isn’t necessary, I can sort myself out.’
It had been a long time since a woman had had such an immediate effect on him. Feeling a compelling urge not to let her out of his sight, Caius said, ‘Absolutely not, I did this and I’ll make sure you have that shirt washed and returned as soon as possible.’
Poppy felt the force of that deep sexy voice in her body, where she was still tingling from the volt of electricity generated when he’d collided with her, upending her full glass of champagne all over herself. And his own.
Shehadbeen standing right behind him, hoping to overhear some conversation, get a feel for what he was like in his natural habitat. She hadn’t expected him to turn and walk right into her.
He’d been like a steel wall. A solid mass of muscle. Up close he was bigger and broader than she’d imagined he would be. He’d made her feel positively petite and she wasn’t that small.
He obviously had no clue who she was. Nor did anyone else. She liked being incognito.
She arched a brow over the mask. A small smile played around her mouth. ‘How do you plan on doing that?’
He’d started taking off his jacket before she’d fully registered what was happening and, after dropping it onto a nearby chair, he undid his bow tie and started to undo his shirt, saying, ‘I’ll give you my shirt and yours can be taken to be dried, or replaced.’
Poppy opened her mouth to protest but nothing came out as his shirt was opening now and revealing his chest. His very defined and hard-muscled chest. With dark hair covering his pectorals. For some reason she hadn’t expected him to be so…unashamedly masculine. She’d expected him to be softer, more metrosexual.
He was giving her the shirt off his back. Literally. Totally bemused, Poppy took the shirt from the now half-naked Caius Mansur.
He said, ‘I’ll give you some privacy.’ He walked away towards a window, his back to her, and she finally forced her feet to move, over to the opposite corner. She pulled off the jacket and undid the buttons on the sodden shirt. She pulled it off, and cast a quick glance over her shoulder.
Caius was still facing towards the window, hands in his pockets, but she was momentarily distracted by his naked back. Broad and smooth. Not an inch of spare olive-toned skin. Wide shoulders. Strong arms. Narrow waist. And down…to where he filled out his tuxedo trousers in a way that was frankly pornographic.
And then she looked up. She could see the hard lines of his face. His sheer beauty. Perfect bone structure and a strong jaw. A blade of a nose and slashing dark brows. And that mouth…the mouth that gave him away as a sybarite.
Those distinctive piercing blue eyes, visible even through the mask he still wore. Looking at her through the reflection.
Her breath stopped. Her skin prickled. He was watching her. She should be outraged. But it was hard to feel outraged when she was looking at him too. And when her blood seemed to have turned hot and molten and slow. Like lava.
Her heart thudded against her breastbone. No man had ever affected her so viscerally before and she was surprised.
She liked to think she was discerning enough not to fall at his feet in a swoon like the women who’d just been gazing at him with open adoration back in that ballroom. But here she was with suspiciously weak knees.
She blamed her sexual innocence for her reaction. Even though she’d gone to university in the United States, her constant security detail, albeit discreet, had scuppered any chance of a relationship. But that hadn’t been the only deterrent. The lifelong wound of being so comprehensively rejected by her father had also made her wary of allowing anyone too close.
Not that Caius Mansur would ever find out how innocent she was. Or her vulnerabilities. Everything she’d seen so far only confirmed what she already knew. He was a playboy. He’d had her taking off her clothes within minutes of meeting her!Not his fault,pointed out a voice. Poppy ignored it, feeling a strong need to keep Caius at a distance.
She turned away from that provocative reflection and pulled on his shirt and suddenly that compulsion to keep her distance dissolved like snow on a hot stone. The material still held his warmth, and, worse, his smell. It wasn’t overpowering and overtly masculine. It was subtle and evocative. Not what she’d expected. It made her close her eyes and think of the wild sea, warm earth and…leather. She felt dizzy. She opened her eyes again and quickly scrabbled to push the buttons through the holes to close the shirt.
Her nipples scraped almost painfully against the lace of her bra. She drew the line at taking that off even though it too was damp.
She’d assumed—since no one had lit her sexual fire before now—that she was somehow not that interested in sex. It turned out she just hadn’t met the right man. How galling to find this out in the presence of the man she’d decided wasn’t appropriate husband material.
She picked up her ruined shirt and turned around to face the man, fully intending to tell him that she didn’t need any further help, but he was already crossing the room and taking the shirt out of her hand and his bare chest was distracting her all over again.
He went to the door and handed her shirt over to some unseen person, giving instructions. He closed the door and faced her. His shirt felt voluminous on Poppy.
He put out a hand, for all the world as if this were his home and she were his guest. ‘Please, make yourself comfortable. They’re going to either wash and dry the shirt, or try to source one in the same size. You’ll be back in the ballroom before you know it. I’ve asked for some refreshments. I don’t know about you but those canapés weren’t making up for my lack of dinner.’
Against her will, Poppy found herself gravitating closer to him and taking a seat. As if he had some sort of hypnotic power over her. But then, she reasoned with herself, when else was she going to get a chance to have an anonymous one-on-one moment with Caius?
The fact that he was an inveterate charmer was confirmed beyond any doubt. He smiled at her now as he also took a seat in a chair opposite her and she was glad she was sitting down.
Ingrained manners forced her to say, ‘Thank you for your assistance.’
