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But Beth was intrigued, as well as stubborn. 'You can't just walk away, Dex.' But she was talking to his back. Hurrying after him, she caught his arm. 'Who am I like?' she demanded.
Dex turned, brushing her hand from his arm, and he stared at down at her. For a long moment the silence stretched between them, and Beth thought he was not going to answer. Then, suddenly, he spoke.
'You are totally unique, Beth, and I am a frustrated jerk. And I should have had more sense than to make love out in the open like a callow youth.' He smiled with a twist of his firm lips. 'You would probably prefer an older man with more restraint than I possess, I think.'
She should have been satisfied. His earlier anger had gone and he was actually smiling at her. But the smile did not reach his eyes, and why the cynical crack about an older man? For a fleeting moment Beth recalled the episode in the casino, and wondered again if he was jealous of Paul. No, Dex couldn't be; maybe it was just his possessive Latin nature. Or maybe, she realised suddenly, he was simply trying to change the subject. He hadn't answered her question, and Beth could not let it go—
'And I think you're avoiding my question. You said I was just like someone. Who?'
'Tenacious little thing, aren't you?' Moving closer, he linked his hands loosely around Beth's back in a non- threatening embrace. 'I was going to say my sister. You are exactly like her. Sweet, and certainly not the type to have sex with a man without some form of commitment, like a ring on your finger. I am right? No?' he queried.
His grey eyes c
aught and held Beth's, the intensity of his gaze leaving her in no doubt of his sincerity. He understood. . . She heaved a deep sigh of relief, a broad grin lighting up her lovely face.
'You know me so well,' she said, with a toss of her auburn curls.
'Not as well as I would like, though I have a very strong feeling that will be remedied eventually. But I promise not to rush you.'
But rush her he did, though surprisingly not in a sexual way. Which was why, five days later, Beth stood in front of the mirror in her bedroom eyeing her reflection and chewing nervously on her bottom lip. The exquisitely tailored cashmere coat in palest cream, was a perfect fit. Designed by a top Italian fashion house and purchased by Dex.
She had seen him every day since their picnic on Sunday. They had dined out every night. Dex had a tal- ent for finding the most intimate little restaurants. They'd also driven out into the country and visited quaint pubs. They'd talked about their likes and dislikes. Beth loved Elton John and opera, and Dex—a typical Italian—loved opera too, knew every aria ever written by heart. But when he'd tried to sing, Beth had burst into fits of laughter. Surprisingly, he was totally tone deaf.
When Beth had tried to explain that, as a working girl, she needed to stay home some nights, he had overruled her objections, but had been considerate enough to make sure she was home by about eleven. They usually parted on the doorstep with a chaste goodnight kiss. In fact, Dex had behaved as a perfect gentleman: no sexual advances. But in every other respect he always got his own way, Beth ruefully admitted to herself.
The coat was a case in point. Dex had insisted on buying it for her when they had met for lunch the day before. At first he had wanted to buy her a mink coat, and when she had flatly refused he had compromised with the cashmere, overriding all her objections, by finally saying, 'You're a beautiful woman and you deserve beautiful clothes. I love England, but not even the English like the climate. You are my woman and I have no intention of letting you catch cold.'
His high-handed attitude rankled, but his 'my woman' had secretly thrilled her. So she had accepted the coat.
Later that evening, clinging to Dex's arm as they walked along the riverside towards the boat where they were to dine, she was glad of its warmth. But, once seated at a table for two, with the banks of the Thames passing by, the millions of city fights reflected in the dark waters, she had no need of its warmth. The romantic setting, the heat of Dex's gaze, his hand holding hers, the latent desire in his eyes Ut a flame inside her that she knew would burn for ever.
It was over coffee that Dex dropped his bombshell.
'Have I told you tonight how lovely you are?' Reaching for her hand, he turned it over in his own, his thumb idly stroking the palm.
There was nothing idle about Beth's reaction; she could feel a tingling sensation right down to her toes. 'Yes, a dozen times,' she responded huskily, her starry eyes roaming over his chiselled features. He was so attractive, sometimes she had to pinch herself to make sure what was happening was real and not a fairy tale. She had seen the avid glances the other female diners cast in his direction. He was certainly the most dynamic virile man in this floating palace of a restaurant.
'You have that effect on me, Beth. I'm so besotted by you, I end up repeating myself like a parrot.'
'You! A parrot! Never,' she exclaimed. 'A hawk, now. . . That I could believe,' she teased, while hugging his words to her heart.
'Parrot, hawk—whatever. But this bird has to fly away tomorrow.'
'You're leaving?' Beth could not hide her consternation. 'But when? Why?'
'As it happens, I have promised my sister I will attend her birthday party in Italy tomorrow night. But, that aside, I have to be in New York on Monday. I do have a business to run, Beth. Usually I only visit London once or twice a year at most. Surely you must have realised I cannot stay here indefinitely.'
The more he talked, the more her heart sank. So much for her fairy tale romance. Dex was leaving. Withdrawing her hand from his, she picked up her coffee cup and drained it, then replacing it carefully on the table, she looked back at him.
'Yes, of course. I mean, who would want to spend their life living in one of the best hotels in London?' She tried to joke but her voice shook, and it took an almighty effort of will simply to hold his gaze. But Dex saw through her charade immediately.
'It is not the end of our relationship, Beth. In fact, it could be the beginning.' Grasping her hand once more, his eyes narrowed intently on her face. 'You can meet me in New York. I will arrange it, and I promise you will have a great time.'
Beth's heart lurched in her breast. The desire flaring in his eyes was a potent reminder of how it could be between them. If she let it. . . But common sense prevailed. How could she take off around the world with Dex? Just like that? There was her work, her friends, her apartment. And what exactly was Dex offering? She noted he had not asked her to his sister's birthday party; he was not about to introduce her to his family.
Obviously a brief fling at best was all he had in mind.
'No, sorry. I have to be at work on Monday,' she managed to say prosaically.
