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His lips twisted into a cynical smile that held a hint of cruelty and his eyes held no humour at all. ‘You’re brave in public with a table between us,’ he told her blandly. ‘But beware of challenging me, Penny. You’re a novice in the sexual stakes.’
He regarded her silently across the table for what seemed like an age, and it took considerable will-power to hold his gaze. ‘But unlike you I am still young enough to learn.’
With a shout of laughter he threw his head back. ‘Have you any idea what you have just invited, you foolish girl?’
‘I am neither a girl or foolish,’ Penny replied, infuriated by his laughter.
Reaching across the table, he grasped her hand in one of his. ‘That could be construed as an offer for me to teach you everything I know.’ He lifted his hand to his lips and kissed her palm, and she felt the sensual effect right down to her toes. ‘Thank you, cara,’ and at that moment the waiter arrived.
Penny wanted to rage at the arrogant devil, but, thinking over where her anger had led her, she could see his point.
‘Champagne, Penny?’
‘Yes, please.’ Why not? Maybe getting drunk was not such a bad idea. Face it, she told herself, it is the only one you have left.
His slate-grey eyes raked over her expressive features, pinning her gaze. ‘Not a good idea. Alcohol never solved anything. Trust me, I know.’
He was a mind-reader as well; why didn’t that surprise her? Letting her lips curl in a brief smile, she taunted, ‘You would, oh, mighty one, font of all knowledge, seducer of hundreds of women.’
‘I will take that as a joke…this time,’ Solo warned with a hint of steel, and she wondered at her own nerve in goading him.
‘Have some champagne.’ He poured the sparkling liquid into the glass provided. ‘A toast to our marriage and us. It can be as happy as you choose to make it, Penny.’
‘Why is it up to me?’ she asked dryly. ‘Unless I’m mistaken, it takes two to make a marriage.’
Solo leaned back in his chair, his handsome face expressionless. ‘Because I know what I want from this marriage,’ he declared with thoughtful deliberation. ‘But I’m not sure you do.’
‘I don’t actually want to marry you at all. I simply want to prevent being declared a bankrupt and keep a roof over my brother’s and my head,’ she slashed back bluntly. ‘And as you are hardly likely to spend much time at Haversham Park, and I am certainly not going anywhere else, it will be a temporary marriage of hopefully brief duration.’ Her life was full enough with James and her fledgling writing career to look after. What the hell! As long as she wasn’t pregnant, she could come out of the sorry mess smelling of roses, with Solo the villain. After all, he already had a long-term mistress in Tina Jenson.
Lifting her glass, she pinned a dazzling smile on her face. ‘To us,’ and she drained the glas
s. ‘But tell me,’ she said, placing the glass on the table and glancing across into his flintlike eyes. He was so confident and incredibly attractive, he mesmerised and made her want to murder him in equal parts. ‘How did your PA react to your news, or haven’t you told her yet?’
One ebony brow arched sardonically. ‘An interest in my business? You do surprise me.’
‘Well, rumour has it Tina Jenson is something more than your PA,’ Penny said with a brittle smile. ‘I do hope you have informed her of your forthcoming nuptials, it is only good manners,’ she ended facetiously.
His grey eyes became coldly remote on her mutinous face. ‘Of course,’ he drawled. ‘Tina as my PA is aware of my movements at all times.’
Anger hot and instant scorched Penny’s cheeks. ‘I’ll just bet she is.’ To think Tina was his lover was bad enough, but to have it tacitly confirmed by the arrogant devil was too much.
He watched her with merciless eyes. ‘As for the rest,’ he said cuttingly. ‘I never listen to rumour, and neither should you.’
‘So you never slept with Tina?’ The question just popped out and Penny could have kicked herself.
‘I didn’t say that,’ he corrected silkily. ‘But it is nice to know you are jealous, Penny, darling.’
CHAPTER SIX
PENNY watched him drink his second cup of coffee with bleary eyes. Solo had eaten a good breakfast, ham, eggs and three pastries, with apparent enjoyment, while she had struggled to swallow one of the delicious pastries. He seemed to be in an excellent mood, his silver-grey eyes smiling at her across the top of his cup.
‘I’ve been in touch with decorators and Brownie, and with a bit of luck by the time we have to return to England at least the paintwork at Haversham Park will not be so bilious.’
‘You’ve what?’ she exclaimed. ‘Who gave you the right to instigate the decoration of my home.’
‘Our home, Penelope,’ he drawled sardonically.
He was right again. They were seated at a table outside on the terrace, the sun was warm on her bare shoulders. Italy in May was a lot warmer than England and she had dressed accordingly in a cropped white cotton top and a short denim skirt. But suddenly she felt cold. She tilted her chin. ‘You should have consulted me anyway,’ she flared, her pride stung.
