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Draco laughed. That only made her angrier. She was glaring at him, her lips set in a thin, angry line. What would she do if he pulled to the shoulder of the road, pulled her into his arms and kissed her until her lips softened, parted, clung to his?
He would not do it, of course; he was done with kissing her or even touching her. He wasn’t interested in her anymore; it was just idle thought …
“And,” she said, “I am not letting you drive one more mile until you tell me where—”
“Sicily.”
Just as he’d figured, shock replaced the look of fury on her face.
“Sicily? You and I are going to—”
“Right. You and I, and a pilot.”
That was when Anna saw the sign. Aeroporto Ciampino. She didn’t hesitate, didn’t stop to weigh her words. She simply swung toward him and said, “No!”
“In fact …” Draco checked his mirror, accelerated, swung around a black van in the lane ahead. “We’re running late. I want to be off the ground before—”
“Listen to me, Draco. I am not flying anywhere with you.”
“We aren’t flying ‘anywhere,’ consigliere, we’re flying to Sicily.”
“Forget the word games! And stop calling me consigliere.”
“It’s what you are, aren’t you?”
“I am not my father’s counselor. I am not even his lawyer. I’m his daughter, and I am not letting you take me to Sicily.”
“Wow,” Draco said, his voice thick with sarcasm, “so much information in one breath! I’m impressed.”
“Damn you, Valenti—”
Anna gave a little cry as he swung the wheel hard to the right, pulled onto the shoulder of the road and put the car in neutral.
“Frankly,” he said, turning toward her, his eyes, his words, cold, “I don’t care what you call yourself, lady. You came to Italy to do a job for your old man. You made threats. You—”
“Threats?” Anna laughed. “What, do you think I’m carrying a pistol? That I’m going to put a gun to your head and—”
Draco moved fast. Too fast for her to protest. One heartbeat, he was sitting next to her; the next, he’d pulled her half over the gear shift and into his arms.
“I know every inch of you,” he said in a low voice. His hand swept up her side, cupped her breast; Anna gasped and tried to slap his hand away, but he wouldn’t let her. “So, no, I don’t think you’re going to threaten me physically.” His eyes grew dark and hot. “Hell,” he growled, “you’re already a physical threat, Anna. When you’re in my arms, when you’re looking at me the way you are now, Dio, I can’t think straight.”
“I don’t know what you mean. And you’d better let go of me, Valenti. Let go, or—”
Draco cupped the back of her head and brought her mouth to his. Anna stiffened, tried to twist away … and then she moaned, wound her arms around his neck and sucked his tongue into her mouth.
The kiss was long and deep; it left her shaken. When Draco finally drew back, she was trembling.
“This is crazy,” she whispered. “Just plain crazy! We cannot—”
“Yes,” Draco said roughly, “we can.”
“One minute we’re enemies. The next … the next—”
He kissed her again, his lips gentle on hers, so gentle that she wanted to sigh, to melt, to stay in his arms not so much for the sexual pleasure she knew he could bring her but for the simple joy of feeling his arms around her.
The thought was unsettling, and she tore her lips from his. He let her do it, let her turn her head and lay it against his chest.
“Please.” Her voice was low, almost breathless. “Please, Draco. Don’t.”
