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Around them the murmur of conversation slowed and quietened, but Daisy barely noticed. Eyes closing, stomach flipping over in helpless response to his probing tongue, she was only aware of the heat of his mouth and the hard length of his body pressing against her quivering belly. Hands curling into his shirt, she dragged him closer, kissing him back as her stomach muscles tensed around the tight, aching heat that was balling inside her.
It’s just a job, she told herself dazedly. You’re a professional actress playing a role and this is all part of the performance.
But as her hands rose and splayed against his chest somewhere in the back of her brain she knew that whatever was happening it was no longer just for show. It felt real—dangerously real...
Only there was no time to process that thought. She felt him shift against her, breaking the kiss. And, opening her eyes, she saw herself reflected in his gaze
—small and still and stunned.
For a fraction of a second she thought she saw something flicker across his face. But she was too busy trying to hide her own reaction to really be sure, and then he was drawing her against him, guiding her towards the door.
* * *
Back at his apartment, the lights had been turned down, and in the living room there was a bottle of champagne chilling in an ice bucket.
Catching sight of her expression, Rollo raised an eyebrow. ‘I wasn’t sure how tonight would go. Champagne seemed like a good idea either way. Here.’
Popping the cork, he filled two glasses and handed one to Daisy.
‘To us.’
‘To us,’ she echoed, her heart twitching as she remembered the kiss they’d shared in the gallery. ‘So you’re pleased with how it went?’ she said tentatively, dropping her bag onto the sofa.
‘Definitely. I think we aced it. Which reminds me...’
His eyes flickered past her and, turning, she saw a large, flat parcel wrapped in brown paper.
‘I have something for you. A present.’
Stunned, speechless, she stared at the parcel in silence until finally, with a hint of impatience, Rollo said, ‘Aren’t you going to open it?’’
‘Y-yes. Of course,’ she stammered.
Putting down her glass, she tugged clumsily at the paper and gasped. It was the painting from the gallery.
She gazed at it speechlessly. ‘I don’t—’
He frowned. ‘You don’t like it?’
‘N-no, I do. I love it. But I can’t possibly accept it—’ Not when she knew how much it cost. Only it seemed ill-mannered to mention money.
He shrugged. ‘Why not? You like it and I want to give it to you.’
She swallowed. He made it sound so easy. So tempting. Looking up, she breathed out slowly, lost in the deep green of his gaze.
‘Then, thank you.’ Her heart felt suddenly light and gauzy, as though it might fly away at any moment. ‘That doesn’t seem like nearly enough. But I don’t know what else to say.’
Rollo stared at her in silence.
Since leaving Daisy at the spa he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her. Or, more precisely, about having sex with her. And now that they were finally alone, it felt like the best idea he’d ever had. Not only would it create an intimacy that might conceivably add credibility to their ‘relationship,’ but it would also solve the aching physical frustration that had plagued him since he’d kissed her in his office nearly two weeks ago.
It was true she shared many of his mother’s flaws, only there was one crucial difference. Alice Fleming’s power had lain in her emotional hold over him. She’d been his mother and he had loved her. But he didn’t love Daisy. So where was the risk?
The air seemed to swell around them.
Slowly he reached out and cupped her chin with his hand. ‘Then don’t say anything,’ he murmured.
Her whole body was trembling, bones melting, blood beating inside her like a warning drum. Only then his eyes focused hungrily on her mouth and suddenly nothing mattered except the gathering storm rising inside her.
