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Beneath the layers of tissue paper lay the most beautiful lingerie she had ever seen—silver silk-satin and filigree lace. Bra. Camiknickers—and a wisp of a garter belt. Kate swallowed as she pulled each delicate item out of the box. ‘It’s…’
He heard the strained quality in her voice, and frowned. ‘You don’t like it?’
‘How could I not like it?’ she questioned shakily. ‘It’s utterly beautiful.’
But her reaction had not been the delight he had anticipated. ‘Will you wear it tonight, cara?’ he instructed silkily. ‘For me?’
She slid the garments onto her still-damp skin, aware that his eyes were devouring every trembling movement she made. The silk felt unbelievably light and delicious as it clung fluidly to every curve, but she couldn’t rid herself of an unreasonable sensation of disappointment.
Because as he himself had pointed out the fripperies were such a typical gift of a man to his mistress that she felt almost as if she was being stereotyped by the man who had once accused her of the same thing. And now she was being cast into a one-dimensional role from which there could be no escape.
She forced herself to smile as she turned slowly for her captive audience. ‘How’s that?’
A pulse beat deep within his groin, and he wished that he could cancel the dinner. ‘Exquisite,’ he murmured throatily. ‘It seems a pity that you have to cover them up.’
‘You mean that you’d like other men to see me like this?’ she demanded wildly.
Jealousy—hot and dark and potent—flooded over his skin. ‘They are for my eyes only,’ he told her dangerously, but something in the reproachful tremble of her lips made him adjust his tone. ‘Just the image of you wearing them will sustain me through dinner, and I will imagine myself removing them later,’ he promised.
She wore one of her new dresses—a deceptively simple robe, cut on the bias, which skimmed the floor. Its plain, almost stark cream colour provided the perfect foil to the living fire of her hair, which she clipped back at the sides and let tumble to her waist.
He murmured his approval as she stood in front of him.
And Giovanni looked exquisite, too—in the beautifully cut black dinner suit and a snowy silk shirt. Formality suited him, she thought, but then, in a way, he was almost old-fashionedly formal in his outlook.
His behaviour towards her, as his mistress, was exemplary. He had flown her to a beautiful city and bought her fine underwear. He was the most skilled and considerate lover, and now he was taking her out to a fancy restaurant to meet business colleagues of his.
If only there could have been a little more warmth in his attitude towards her—but warmth implied emotion, didn’t it, and there was precious little where he was concerned? Which made it imperative that she keep her own feelings hidden.
The restaurant was crowded and had the lively buzz of success about it. The others were already seated and Giovanni introduced her to Xavier and Juan, and Juan’s wife, Rosa.
&n
bsp; Very Spanish, with their dark, flashing-eyed looks, Kate thought that both men were attractive, but Xavier especially so. His eyes narrowed appreciatively as she walked in at Giovanni’s side, and he made a great play of bending to kiss her fingertips in an impossibly chivalrous manner.
‘Giovanni did not tell me that you would be quite so beautiful,’ he murmured in perfect English.
Giovanni took Kate’s hand to his lips and let it linger there in an action which was decidedly possessive. ‘And I did not tell Kate that you were quite so presumptuous! Be careful, cara—Xavier has quite a reputation with women!’
Kate laughed, enjoying his territorial display. ‘I’ll heed your warning,’ she told him.
Rosa was not so forthcoming, and her polite smile at Kate was undoubtedly iced with frost, though Kate doubted whether any of the men had noticed.
They drank expensive wine and ordered food, and Rosa subjected her to a gentle little grilling, which to the outside world must have sounded like genuine interest. But the look in her brown eyes told a different story.
‘You have known Giovanni long, Kate?’ she asked quietly.
How to answer this? She had known him for about three and a half months, but the reality boiled down to about fifteen hot and steamy days. Kate turned her eyes desperately to Giovanni for assistance.
‘We met at my godmother’s house, back in July,’ he said smoothly.
‘Oh!’ Rosa’s plucked eyebrows shot upwards in two delicate arcs. ‘You are a friend of Giovanni’s godmother?’
Don’t let her intimidate you, thought Kate. ‘Our relationship is a working one,’ she said staunchly. ‘You work for her?’ quizzed Rosa.
She was making her sound like Lady St John’s cleaner, thought Kate indignantly. ‘In a sense. I decorate her homes for her.’ She smiled, with an effort.
‘Oh!’ said Rosa again, and curved her lips into a smug, little smile.
