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He merely kissed her cheek in parting, but the smouldering look he gave her, combined with the caress of his thumb against the palm of her hand, was anything but chaste.
All in all, she had a lot to think about as she walked back to the office.
It seemed she wasn’t the only one who’d changed, and it occurred to her that if she and Adam had been meeting for the first time, she might well have concluded they had very little in common.
But that was negative thinking. They simply had to get to know each other all over again, that was all.
Besides, the way he’d spoken suggested that he’d sown his wild oats and was looking to settle down, and as that was what she wanted to hear, maybe she should scrub today’s events and hope for better in future.
One encouraging aspect was Adam’s clear desire to cut free from Belisandro International in general and Zac in particular.
And he can expect my full support on both counts, she told herself stormily, her footsteps quickening along with the beat of her heart.
* * *
‘You and Adam?’ Nicola was wide-eyed. ‘When did this begin?’
‘A fortnight ago.’ Dana paused. ‘He hasn’t mentioned it?’
‘I guessed there was someone,’ Nicola admitted. ‘Because there always is.’ She gave Dana an anxious look. ‘You do realise that, don’t you?’
‘We’re keeping it casual,’ Dana assured her.
Or I am, at least, she thought wryly. Because she was being subjected to constant pressure from Adam to allow their relationship to move to intimacy. And though he was undoubtedly intrigued by her equally constant resistance, she could sense that it was beginning to irritate him too.
But she had no intention of changing her mind—not until he gave her some real evidence of commitment.
And maybe his invitation to accompany him to the Belisandro International party the following week was a hopeful sign, while the news that Nicola and Eddie were also to be guests was a definite bonus.
She’d known the Belisandro Pan-European conference was being held in London, because Adam had been complaining about the extra work involved, and the aggravating attention to detail that Zac required.
‘All the male delegates’ wives and girlfriends are receiving bracelets, and the women’s partners get cufflinks—gold, of course,’ he’d informed her. ‘To be presented at the party by Signor Ottaviano, Big Daddy himself, back in full fighting trim after his op.’ He snorted. ‘Let’s see how Wonder Boy likes playing second fiddle again.’
To her surprise, Dana had found herself wincing at his comments. After all, his own company had gone bust, and while he might only be a cog in the Belisandro PR machine, he’d walked into a job with a salary sufficient to support a frankly lavish lifestyle. Which he now seemed poised to jettison.
Presumably he’d been head-hunted for a position that would lift him into the millionaire bracket, so at least there’d be funds to restore Mannion to past glories.
‘And wear that black thing you had for Nic’s engagement party,’ he’d added. ‘I want to show you off.’
‘Not possible, I’m afraid,’ she returned coolly. ‘I had it cleaned and sent it to a charity shop.’
‘What the hell for?’ He frowned. ‘You looked stunning in it.’
She shrugged. ‘It was a one occasion dress. Now it’s someone else’s turn to stun.’
And she could never have worn it again. Not when it would remind her of the brush of a man’s mouth against her bared skin. The wrong man...
Besides, at this party, she did not want to attract attention—especially from the wrong man. And if she could have come up with a valid excuse, she would not be going at all.
She decided to stick to basic black, finding in a boutique a silky crepe dress with a demurely scooped neck, elbow-length sleeves and mid-calf skirt, so far from making a statement that it was positively reticent.
Adam, of course, told her that she looked gorgeous, a ritual that she suspected would be maintained even if she had a bag over her head.
They shared a cab with Nicola and Eddie to the Hotel Capital Imperiale where the conference had been taking place. The party was in the first-floor ballroom, reached by a wide marble staircase and lit by opulent chandeliers, with music supplied by a jazz quartet from a corner rostrum.
‘The food’s in the next room,’ said Adam. ‘Mass catering on the grand scale.’
His derisory tone earned him a sharp look from his sister as she took a glass of champagne from the tray proffered by a hovering waiter.
