AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He knew what it was like to feel powerless and alone. Vulnerable in a way you couldn’t defend against.
He pushed the unpleasant thoughts to one side. Not his business.
All he needed now was to get her cooperation.
“I’m not intending to force you to do anything,” he said. “I’m not telling you, I’m asking you. I hate these damn events. You’ll be doing me a favor.” It surprised him to realize that wasn’t far from the truth. However damned difficult the woman was, and however much of a temptation she presented, she was never dull.
He watched her consider his request, her arms tightening around her midriff, which had the unfortunate effect of plumping up her breasts beneath the robe.
“You’ll definitely let me pay for the clothes when I leave?” she reiterated.
“Everything except the ball gown,” he said, ignoring the implication that she wouldn’t be returning to New York with him. He would correct that assumption later. “Have we got a deal?” he asked.
It took forever, but eventually she nodded. “Okay,” she murmured, and she held out her hand to shake on it.
He closed his palm over her slender fingers. But then she looked down and flinched.
“What happened to your arm?” she blurted out.
He let go of her hand, drawing his arm away and tucking his fingers into the back pocket of his jeans.
His gaze met hers and he stiffened at the shadow of empathy in the luminous green.
He never hid the burns, not deliberately. They were a part of who he was, where he’d come from. A talisman, a symbol of how much he’d overcome to survive. But he didn’t like her knowing he had once been at the mercy of circumstances beyond his control.
“It was an accident,” he lied smoothly.
He could see she didn’t believe him.
“I’ll be back at seven,” he ground out as he unclipped the helmet from the handle bars. “Be ready to leave at eight.”
He climbed back aboard the bike. She didn’t reply, but stood and watched as he kicked the bike off the stand and fired up the engine.
The unreasonable anger didn’t make the desire still throbbing in his groin any easier to handle as he drove off.
* * *
Katie was questioning her impulsive decision to agree to Caine’s request six hours later. Her newly manicured nails scraped on the beaded clutch purse that matched her gown, the afternoon now a blur of fabrics, fittings and design consultations.
She had been primped, preened, plucked and buffed to within an inch of her life in the last two hours, before Donatella and her team had finally left ten minutes ago. She assessed her appearance in the bedroom mirror. The blond tendrils dangling round her neck—which Sophia had spent an eternity teasing out of the chignon—gave her a sultry, just-out-of-bed look. The tension in her stomach twisted.
The smudge of black kohl and glitter round her eyes made the green of her irises pop, while the bronze silk dress—a retro fifties hour-glass style which she would never have contemplated wearing, given her less than abundant curves—actually made her look like she had a cleavage, with a little extra help from the push-up bra Donatella had insisted on.
“You have curves—you just do not know how to flaunt them.”
The simple ruched twist round the gown’s bodice was perfectly complemented by the detailed sparkle of the jeweled beads sewn into the plunging neckline.
Katie let out a ragged sigh, the blond highlights in her hair caused by months spent under the Mediterranean sun glowed, set off by the final strains of the sunset through the open balcony doors.
Donatella had done her job far too well.
The plan had been to placate Caine and reduce the sexual tension between them until she had
the means to leave. Not make herself feel like a lamb who had been dressed for slaughter.
“I’m not a saint.”
The thought of Caine’s eyes, the hunger she had seen reflected in the intense blue depths, sent another shudder of unease through her. She didn’t want him to want her... That was what her rational mind was telling her. So why had every pulse point, every inch of skin, every single erogenous zone, rejoiced at the gruff confession?
