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He judged that nearly thirty people were now filling the bar area, and decided that it would be enough.
‘We should get ready to leave,’ he said to Emma.
‘The gala isn’t set to finish for another two hours yet. I—’
‘You can let the foundation’s staff handle the rest. From what I’ve heard you’ve handled quite enough already. Besides, I have a feeling you’re going to want to make a quick exit.’
‘Why?’
He didn’t give her time to think about it. He didn’t give himself time to think about it. He had already decided his course of action should she say yes out on the balcony. He was about to ensure that the world knew about his new fiancée—in the quickest, most expedient way.
Antonio pulled her towards him, slipping his arms through the space between his jacket and her body. His hands met the curves he’d imagined to be there—the dip of her small waist, the arch of her back. They had a mind of their own as they swept across the silken material of her dress, sparking little bursts of electricity across his skin from the gentle friction. And his lips...
* * *
Emma felt the swift, determined crush of Antonio’s mouth against hers. The shock of his hands against her waist, her back, startled a gasp from her. His tongue made swift work of the opportunity and plunged between her slightly parted lips.
Fire. Everything he did, every move he made, conjured up only that one word and that one sensation. It felt as if flames were licking across her skin, burning her from the outside in. For a shocking moment she thought her knees might buckle, and thrust out her hands to clutch the material of his shirt in her fists, anchoring them together even further.
As his tongue plunged more deeply into her mouth she felt as if her skin was a barrier—to him, to it, to what she wanted...
And then she heard the whistles. The cheers and the shouts grew louder, until she pulled back from Antonio’s embrace and discovered they had a rather interested audience.
If Antonio had still been wearing his jacket she would have tried to hide in its lapels. She wanted the ground to swallow her up.
Until she realised that this public display was exactly what Antonio had wanted.
The stinging blush of embarrassment and shame painting her cheeks prickled and hurt. Of course he hadn’t got carried away in the moment like she had. He had intended this. Was experienced in this. Antonio needed this and he needed her to play the part of doting fiancée—not naïve, out-of-her-depth PA.
She saw Dimitri come to the front of the crowd and watched as a brief look of surprise was replaced with a surprisingly boyish grin.
‘Permit me to be the first to congratulate you on your now public engagement,’ Dimitri announced loudly, encouraging the already jubilant crowd into more cries of excitement and congratulation.
Within seconds mobile phone flashes were dusting them as if in strobe lighting. Antonio anchored her in place, pressed against his chest, smiling for all the world as if he were a newly engaged happy man, and Emma did her best to follow his lead.
After a minute Dimitri stepped forward to shake hands with Antonio, whispering that he hoped they both knew what they were doing through a fixed smile.
‘Antonio is a very lucky man, Emma. But he is also a handful. So if you find yourself in need, you just call me.’
Dimitri pressed a kiss to Emma’s cheek, and she couldn’t help but smile back.
‘Thank you, Mr Kyriakou.’
‘Dimitri. Please,’ he said, dipping his head low and studying her intently.
He didn’t look at her in the way oth
er men had once, but in a way that conveyed sincerity. And something slightly darker than his apparent good humour.
‘I mean it, Emma. Anything. Just call.’
‘Okay—that’s enough. I don’t need you putting off my fiancée at the very first step, thank you,’ Antonio interrupted, with the kind of patience and affection only borne out of a long friendship.
‘So,’ Dimitri said, stepping back and rubbing his hands together. ‘Would you like an impromptu engagement party? Or a highly skilful distraction so you can make a quick getaway?’
‘A distraction, please, Dimitri. But nothing—’
‘Nothing scandalous. Yeah, I got the memo,’ he said with an eye-roll, disappearing into the crowd, calling for champagne and a dance with the most beautiful woman present in the room—aside from Emma, of course!
