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It isn’t a date, she told herself fiercely as she wrapped a towel round her and walked through to the bedroom. It’s just a meal—the fuel we need for what is doubtless going to be a marathon bout of delicious sensation.
But she dressed as if she was going on a date.
The first time she had met him she’d been working—and on the two occasions she had seen him since she had been surprised by him at the flat. Tonight she had been wearing nothing but a satin robe and there had been no opportunity to prepare herself, to make sure that she looked her best.
Now was her opportunity to pull all the stops out. To dazzle and beguile him. He might only be here for two weeks, and he might only want her as his temporary lover—but he would see her looking her very best!
She pulled a black dress from her wardrobe, a dress she rarely wore—because it always seemed a little too ‘grownup’ for her. But tonight she wanted to feel grown-up—a real woman, in the company of a real man.
It was the simplest dress imaginable—a shift of jet linen—and the beauty was all in the cut. It had cost her a small fortune, and it showed—especially when she scraped her hair back into an almost severe chignon, which meant that her face looked all eyes, fringed with an extravagant lashing of mascara.
She wore no jewellery—the moonstones seemed all wrong, somehow, and she possessed no ‘real’ jewellery. With her long, slim legs encased in dark silk stockings, the final touch was a pair of outrageous little black shoes with kitten heels.
Giovanni sat waiting for her in the sitting room, his hair still damp from the shower. She saw that he had brought up his bags from the car, and was wearing a snowy-white shirt and some dark, amazing trousers, and the blue eyes were watching her every movement as she swayed into the room.
He pursed his lips and let out an exaggerated long, low whistle of appreciation.
‘Mmm,’ he murmured. ‘Bella.’
But if she had hoped for kisses now she was to be disappointed, for he made no move to touch her.
He didn’t dare. His swallowed down his desire. She looked absolutely breathtaking in a dress that would have looked outstanding in any company. With her hair off her face like that, she looked almost icy. Unapproachable. And again, the contrast to the woman who had straddled him in the shower minutes earlier was quite devastating. If he touched her he knew exactly what would happen—and what would be the use of removing such a beautiful garment from her body before dinner?
Something in the way he was looking at her made Kate feel suddenly unsure of herself. This really was the most bizarre situation, she thought. She had been more intimate with him than she had with any other man, and yet she didn’t have a clue what was going on in his mind. ‘You like it, then?’ she asked him unnecessarily.
A muscle flickered at his cheek. ‘You know I do.’
But still he kept his distance. She pinned a bright smile onto her mouth. ‘It’s getting late; shall we go?’
‘Sure.’
Outside, the evening sun danced golden on the river, and they began to walk towards the shops and restaurants.
‘Shall we eat first?’ he asked.
At least he had given her the choice. It seemed almost too clinical to go and stock up at the pharmacy while they walked side by side as if they were two strangers. Intimate strangers. ‘Yes, please,’ she answered gratefully.
He heard the relief in her voice. ‘And where are you going to take me?’
‘I haven’t decided yet.’
She didn’t take him to her favourite restaurant. They knew her by name there, and she had no desire for them to get to know Giovanni, too. They might jump to all kinds of the wrong conclusions and think that he was a proper boyfriend. And she wasn’t sure she could face the awkward questions which would be bound to arise when he disappeared from her life as suddenly as he had entered it.
Instead, they found a small Indian eaterie which had received rave reviews in the national Press. The place was teeming and a table looked unlikely, but the maître d’ took one glance at the imposing Sicilian and the pale-faced woman at his side and immediately summoned them in to a small table in one corner of the room.
It was, Kate realised as she sat down to face him, the first time that they had done anything ‘normal’ together—unless you counted that first, awkward lunch at his godmother’s. It didn’t help that her hands were shaking as she took the menu, but how could she not feel a trembling bag of nerves? He looked adorable. Outrageously good-looking and confident.
She couldn’t miss the side-looks which most of the other female diners gave him, followed by envious glances in her direction. I don’t want to adore him, she told herself. An emotion like that would be wasted on a relationship that wasn’t going anywhere past the bedroom.
‘I hope you like Indian food?’ she questioned conventionally.
His appetite, peculiarly, had deserted him, but he forced a bland smile. ‘I’m not familiar with it.’ The sapphire gaze captured her. ‘Perhaps you would like to order for me?’
She nodded, suspecting that he rarely let a woman take control. ‘OK.’ She scanned the menu with uninterested eyes.
She didn’t have a clue what she was ordering, even though she loved Indian food with a passion. She just jabbed her finger indiscriminately at the menu and hoped for the best.
‘We should drink beer with curry,’ she told him when she had ordered the drinks.
