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With a stifled curse, Marco held out his hands. ‘Keys?’
‘Why?’
‘Romano will return the scooter to your hotel.’
Sasha’s eyes widened. Romano weighed at least two hundred and fifty pounds of pure muscle. The thought of what he’d put her poor scooter through made her wince.
‘And before you comment on Romano’s size I’d urge you to stop and think about his feelings,’ Marco added mockingly.
Touché, she conceded silently.
Digging into her satchel, she reluctantly handed over her keys. Marco lobbed them to his bodyguard, then raised an imperious eyebrow at her.
With a resigned sigh, Sasha slid past his imposing body and entered the limo.
The door shut on them, enclosing them in a silent cocoon that threatened to send her already taut nerves into a frenzied tailspin.
As the car glided out of the car park it occurred to her that she had no idea where Marco was taking her. She opened her mouth to ask, then immediately shut it when she saw his gaze fixed on the small box.
Despite his bleak expression, his profile was stunningly arresting. The sculpted contours of his face held enough shadow and intrigue to capture the attention of any red-blooded female with a pulse—a fact attested to by the regular parade of stunning women he was photographed with.
His strong jaw bore the beginnings of a five o’clock shadow, and an even stronger, taut neck slanted onto impossibly broad shoulders. Under the discreetly expensive cotton shirt those shoulders moved restlessly. She followed the movement, her gaze sliding down over his chest, past the flat stomach that showed no hint of flab. Her eyes rested in his lap. The bulge beneath his zipper made heat swirl in her belly.
‘Have you seen enough? Or would you like me to perform a slow striptease for you?’
Her cheeks burned. Her neck burned. In fact for several seconds Sasha was sure her whole body was on fire. Mortified, she hastily plucked her sunglasses from atop her head and jammed them onto her face.
‘I … You didn’t say where we were going.’
‘I’ve called a meeting with Russell and the chief engineer. I’m handing over the reins temporarily so I can concentrate on making arrangements for Rafael to be evacuated home to Spain.’
‘You’re moving him?’
‘Not yet, but the medical team is on standby. He’ll be moved the moment it’s deemed safe.’
‘I see.’
Sharp eyes bored into her. ‘Do you? You’ve talked your way into a last-chance meeting and yet you’re wasting time exhibiting
false concern for my brother.’
She sucked in a breath. ‘My concern isn’t false. I’d give anything for Rafael not to be in that place.’
Sasha watched, fascinated, as his hand tightened around the box. ‘In my experience anything tends to arrive with a very heavy price tag and a carefully calculated catch. So be very careful with your choice of words.’
Sasha licked her lips, suddenly unable to breathe at the expression in his eyes. ‘I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.’
The look in his eyes hardened. ‘You really should try a different profession. Your acting skills are highly commendable.’
‘Driving suits me just fine, thanks. Where are we going, exactly?’
Keeping his gaze on her, he relaxed back in his seat. ‘My hotel.’
‘Your hotel?’ she repeated dully. Her senses, still reeling after she’d been caught staring at Marco de Cervantes’s man package, threatened to go into freefall. The thought of being alone with him—truly alone—made anxiety skitter over her skin. ‘I don’t think that’s a good idea.’
‘You don’t have a choice. You wanted this meeting.’
Desperation lent her voice strength. ‘The rest of the team will be wondering where I am. Maybe I should let them know.’ Tom had asked where she was going after the press conference, but she’d been deliberately evasive.
