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‘Well, it’s not surprising he was winded. He is a lot older than you and I, Beth.’
Beth saw the sparkle of devilment in Tony’s eyes and smiled at his quip about his brother’s age. It was either that or cry—and Cannavaro had caused enough tears in her life already. She wasn’t about to shed a single one more.
‘True...’ she said, holding the smile. ‘But I have been delayed long enough. If I want to get there by dark you two will have to go now. I’m going to put Binkie into his carrier and we can finally leave.’
‘Okay,’ Tony agreed, then added, ‘I can see you are in a hurry, and I can only apologise for my brother delaying you.’ He grinned at her. ‘Shall I still check on your apartment until you get back?’
‘Yes, of course.’ Beth couldn’t help smiling. Tony was an incorrigible but very likable young man—the exact opposite of his hard-faced, cynically arrogant brother... She realised she was going to miss Tony and Mike. Their happy-go-lucky attitude to life had been a tonic for her. But it was for the best that she was leaving.
‘You heard, bro. Beth wants us out—and in case you’ve forgotten I’ll see you later at the parents’ anniversary party.’ He turned towards the door, and then turned back. ‘Oh, by the way, Dante—don’t forget your shoes. The barefoot look really doesn’t suit you....’ he said, and walked out.
‘So once was enough, hmm?’ Dante drawled as the front door shut.
Still holding the cat, Beth stared at Dante as though she had never seen him before. ‘More than enough,’ she intoned icily.
‘If you had told me I was your first I would have been more careful.’
‘You’ve got to be joking. You never believe a word I say—though you pretend to when it suits you.’
‘Maybe. But I’m curious, Beth. Why did you hang on to your virginity for so long? No, don’t bother answering. I know...’ he said without pause. ‘You told me Tony was just teasing when he said he wanted you to be his fiancée, but I think it was you that was doing the teasing. That is how you operate. You get pleasure from leading young men on and denying them what they want until they’re crazy about you and will do anything you say. First Timothy Bewick and now Tony. There have probably been many more,’ he declared cynically.
He could not have said anything more likely to enrage Beth and, putting Binkie down, she moved towards him, her anger so livid her cheeks were scarlet with it. She registered the arrogant stance of his big body, his hands tucked easily into the pockets of his trousers. He appeared every inch the sophisticated lawyer, with his confident summing-up of the situation, and it was not surprising the jury in her case had believed every word he said.
Even half dressed he exuded an aura of power, conviction and a sheer masculine magnetism that was almost impossible to ignore. It was inherent in his every move, every gesture, but this time Beth was immune to his lethal appeal. She fought down the urge to rant and rave at him and instead stopped a few inches in front of him, deliberately raising her gaze to his hard face, her green eyes contemptuous.
‘No. But if that is what you want to think to salve your conscience, be my guest. We both know that at my trial, when you painted me as some femme fatale who slept with young men to control them, the real liar was you.’ She dropped each word slowly and precisely into the tense silence. ‘You try living with that, as I have for the last eight years. You might actually discover a conscience, though I doubt it. Your sort never does.’ Disgust was evident in her tone. ‘As for Tony—you saw for yourself we are just good friends. But then I doubt a man like you has any friends.’
Dante shrugged and, taking his hand from the pocket of his pants, ran one long finger down her burning cheek to tilt her chin up and study her flushed and furious face.
‘You are overwrought, and in a way I don’t blame you. I am much older, more experienced than the boys you usually play with, and you got more than you bargained for. But you were with me all the way, so don’t try to pretend otherwise. You are only fooling yourself. I have never known a more eager lover. And I did not lie in court. As a lawyer I simply implied—there is a difference.’
Beth shook her head, unable to deny what he said, and stepped away from him. ‘Yes, you are right, of course. The difference in my case was freedom or a three-year sentence,’ she said caustically. ‘Now, if that is all, for about the tenth time of asking, will you get out of here? I never want to see you again.’
‘The feeling is mutual. You can rest assured I will never be back.’
‘At last a mutually acceptable solution. We have a deal. We will stay far away from each other—a continent would be good,’ she sniped, and walked into the kitchen, battling to contain the pain and anger he had revived in her.
She hated him, and she must never forget it again. She had heard it said that love and hate were different sides of the same coin, but she could not let herself think that way—could not let herself think of the pleasure his body had given her. It was just sex, she told herself again, and her overreaction was probably because she had waited so long to experience it.
* * *
Dante resisted the urge to follow Beth. Finding his shoes, he put them on and returned to the living room to retrieve his jacket. He had done what he’d set out to do. Beth was moving out, Tony would be free of her influence and that was what Dante had wanted... So why did he feel like the lowest of the low? Probably because Beth had hit a nerve with her crack about his performance in court. She had done him no favours with her crack about his performance in bed, either....
Oddly, he felt guilty on both counts...and it was not an emotion he was familiar with. But then he was not a man prone to emotions of any sort. It would pass.
Dante got in his car and drove away without a backward glance. Beth was a stunning woman, but not for him. She was not wife material, and she was far too dangerous to his peace of mind to be his mistress.
Although in a way he could not help admiring her. She had managed to change her life very successfully and perfectly legally, he thought as he skilfully manoeuvred the car through the rush-hour traffic. Jane—or Beth—or whatever her real name was had grown into one beautiful, intelligent, feisty woman whom he suspected could hold her own with either man or woman. She had certainly given as good as she’d got from him.
He was still smarting from her once was enough comment—not that he believed her. Beth was the most naturally sensual woman he had ever met, and had reacted to his lightest touch and caress. She had instinctively known how to return the pleasure too. She had been fire and light in his arms, eager to take everything he could give her, and he could still feel the sting of her nails on his back. He couldn’t remember ever having lost control with a lover the way he had with Beth, and the scent and feel of her luscious body beneath him had blown his mind. His body stirred again now at the thought of her.
Suddenly another thought hit him like a thunderbolt. He had forgotten protection. How could he have been so careless?
And in the next second Dante Cannavaro did the unthinkable—for him—and compounded his carelessness by rear-ending the pickup truck in front of him, having not noticed the traffic had stopped for a red light.
He reversed out from under the flatbed of the truck—to the further detriment of his Ferrari—and pulled up to exchange details with the driver of the pickup. Dante loved his cars, and he had never so much as dented one in his life until he’d met Beth Lazenby. Maybe she was a witch and had put a hex on him, he thought, stifling a groan as he surveyed the battered bonnet of his new Ferrari.
He debated going back to tell Beth about his mistake in forgetting to use protection, then, coming to his senses, thought better of it. Given the type of woman he knew Beth to be, he was pretty sure that if his mistake resulted in a pregnancy she would contact him with dollar signs in her eyes.
