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Not at all.
‘I guess not,’ he said slowly, his disbelieving gaze taking in her incredible body. ‘Though it’s proving a little difficult to get my head around. Seeing you here, like this.’
‘I’m afraid I can’t help you with that,’ she said crisply as she began to mop up the spilt champagne. ‘It is what it is.’
As she bent over the table her long hair swung like an armful of ripe corn—the coloured lights of the nightclub creating a neon kaleidoscope amid the thick and gleaming strands. Alessio’s eyes narrowed, because he was baffled—and he was rarely baffled by a woman. He wondered why she hid that magnificent fall of hair—choosing instead that repressive helmet-like style which did her no favours. And why conceal that amazing body and achingly long legs beneath the type of clothes which made her look as if she’d taken a vow of chastity? For some bizarre reason he didn’t actuallyapproveof the skimpy outfit she was wearing tonight—but that didn’t detract from the shimmering beauty she usually kept locked away.
Why did she do that?
His frown deepened.
And why the hell was she leading some sort of double life—working in a nightclub in an edgy part of the city, which was a world away from her sedate day job in privileged Mayfair?
She was staring at him—her grey eyes sending out a silent message which contained none of their usual enigma—as if daring him to interrogate her. And he wondered whether he might have done just that, if they hadn’t been surrounded by other people, with the smoky note of a saxophone throbbing in the background, infiltrating the air with a layer of sensuality which only increased his feelings of disorientation.
‘Hey, you two know each other,ja?’
Karl’s voice broke the silence as he looked from one to the other of them—like somebody at a cocktail party waiting to be introduced—and Alessio responded with a lazy smile.
‘We’ve met before,’ he said carelessly. ‘Though I wouldn’t say we actually knew one another, would you,Nicky?’
He saw her throat work a little but that icy smile was back with all its chilly force.
‘Not at all,’ she said, with a quick smile. ‘We’ve run into each other from time to time—but London is a much smaller city than people imagine, isn’t it, Signor di Bari?’ She stared at a spot in the far distance. ‘Oh, look. Somebody over there is signalling for a drink. Will you excuse me?’
He watched her go. Long legs in fishnet tights and a provocative flurry of feathers which adorned a deliciously high bottom, and Alessio found himself captured by another achingly sweet shaft of a desire which had been absent from his life for too long now. And he couldn’t just blame overwork. Wasn’t it also to do with his innate sense of boredom and cynicism, because women came on to him all the time? Because hadn’t he reached the age of thirty-four with a sexual appetite which had lately grown very jaded?
He drank a mouthful of champagne, wincing at the inferior quality of the wine, before putting down the glass. He watched Nicola’s elegant journey across the floor as she took the drinks order and then disappeared from the VIP section, instinctively knowing she had no intention of returning.
He wondered afterwards, if the dreaded weekend hadn’t been approaching, whether he would have just let the matter lie. He could have stored the interesting and conflicting nugget of information about the cool Miss Bennett in the recesses of his mind, along with the many other of life’s peculiarities which he’d picked up along the way.
But the weekendwasapproaching and he was increasingly focussed on what lay ahead. Various family members who hated one another—with a giant inheritance at stake, which exacerbated all the greed within his half-siblings which always simmered beneath the surface. If it hadn’t been his mother’s birthday he would have found an excuse to decline—but his refusal to attend would hurt her. And hadn’t she been hurt enough during her foolish life?
He thought about the best strategy for coping with the ordeal. Perhaps he should have arranged to take a date with him but there was nobody he was interested in dating and it was too late now. What he needed was a woman who was suitably distracting, but who wouldn’t get the wrong idea about his motives.
His lips curved into a hard smile because he’d suddenly had the most brilliant idea.
CHAPTER TWO
‘HAVEDINNERWITHme tonight.’
Despite the drawled delivery of his statement, the velvety words were more of an order than an invitation, but somehow Nicola didn’t react. She didn’t imagine many women would’ve refused a dinner invitation from Alessio di Bari—but those women weren’t her. Because presumably they had nothing to lose, while she had so much.
So very much.
Surveying him from the other side of the gallery, she thought—not for the first time—how incredible the human body was. Inside you could be experiencing a cocktail of dread and unwanted physical attraction, while on the outside she was aware of appearing as composed as she always did. All those relentless years of training hadn’t let her down. At least, not so far, she thought grimly, meeting a pair of blue eyes so bright they looked almost electric—which might account for the sparks which were fizzing over her skin.
Last night, she had worked the rest of her shift at the Masquerade club and although she had situated herself in the non-VIP section, she had been quaking with nerves, praying she wouldn’t have to see Alessio again. And her prayers had been answered, because she hadn’t.
When she’d peeped through the velvet curtain, he and his companion had no longer been there and she had heaved a great sigh of relief. He must have left soon after she’d served him the disgusting fizz they had the temerity to call champagne. He hadn’t sought her out to say goodbye and she tried to convince herself she would hear no more about it. He would return to his fancy life in New York and next time he turned up to buy another painting—probably with another luscious brunette hanging off his arm—he would have forgotten all about it.
Yet when she’d arrived at work this morning, some gut instinct had warned her that the Italian billionaire wouldn’t just let matters lie. Deep down she had suspected she would see him today—and she had been right. Shortly after eleven he had walked into the gallery, dressed in a charcoal suit which made him look impossibly cool and a pale shirt which was open at the neck. His black hair gleamed and he glowed with health, as if he’d just returned from a fortnight at a spa. She, on the other hand, was pasty and panda-eyed, having barely slept a wink all night.
But fear and trepidation would not serve her well in this situation. He had seen a side of her she had never intended him to see and somehow that removed the necessity to retreat behind the cool mask she always wore. It meant she was able to speak to him with a truth she would never have dared use previously.
‘Why do you want to have dinner with me?’ she said evenly. ‘Are you planning to blackmail me?’
His evident surprise at her question did little to reassure her. Was that because the glint in his eyes remained as steely as ever?
