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She shivered at his words, even as his smile widened dangerously. ‘And now,’ he said, his white teeth almost glinting, ‘so will you.’
CHAPTER SEVEN
HOW was a girl supposed to think of anything after that?
Numbly Tina followed Aldo down the marble staircase, wishing she had a way to prove Luca wrong and wipe that knowing smile from his face, but there was no denying the delicious thrill of anticipation that had accompanied Luca’s dark promise. And it was a promise, for it could hardly be called a threat. Not when her blood fizzed at the knowledge that in a few short hours he wanted her back in his bed.
Was it wrong to look forward to sex with a man that you hated, who held you hostage to a debt you hadn’t yourself incurred? But maybe that was the wrong question to ask, for that question led to more questions, and all kinds of answers she didn’t want to think too much about.
Maybe it was simply better to ask if it was wrong to look forward to an act that you knew would blow your mind and your world apart—an act that your body hungered for on a scale you had never known—an act you had already agreed to undertake for one entire month and so what was the point of asking anyway?
Surely that was the better question.
It felt better, from where she was standing.
‘This one,’ said Aldo, intruding into her thoughts as he handed her a dress, feverishly intent on his task and already searching for the right accessories as she took the hanger. He soon found what he was looking for and before she knew it she was back in her dressing room and wearing a dress that fitted as if it had been made for her.
And in spite of her protests that she didn’t want any of Luca’s clothes and her order to send everything back, she adored the dress the moment she slipped it over her head. It felt delicious and sinful and decadent all in one go.
Cocktail length, the cobalt satin dress skimmed her shape without a ridge or seam in evidence beneath—perhaps because she was wearing gossamer-thin silk underwear instead of her usual plain, cotton bras—or perhaps because it was so superbly right for her, the dress nipping in at the waist to make the most of her curves, hugging her shape like a caress.
Aldo had somehow even managed to conjure up earrings to match, sapphires set with diamonds that sparkled when they caught the light, the blue stones echoing the rich colour of her dress. A touch of make-up and a simple uptwist of her hair were all she needed to do herself, and even she was astounded by the results. The rich colour of the dress did something to her eyes, turning amber into gold, although maybe it was the thoughts of what would happen later that seemed to turn them molten.
‘You look amazing,’ Luca said when she emerged, his rich deep voice working its way down to her bones, and he made her believe it. When she looked into his dark eyes, she felt his desire. When he took her hand to step down into the water taxi, she felt the spark of his need ignite her own.
Mad, she thought, as he finally let her hand go so she could precede him into the interior; she must be mad to feel this schoolgirl breathlessness, this overwhelming sense of anticipation. It was not as if she was going on a date with a man she wanted to be with. It was not as if they hadn’t already made love. In fact he was really nothing to her but an obligation—thirty days and nights to spend in his bed—a deal made with the devil.
But knowing that was somehow still not enough to stop the racing of her pulse as he ducked his head and curled his long body onto the leather divan alongside her. Knowing that was no protection against the lure of his signature scent or the sheer magnetism of his body heat. In fact, logic seemed pathetically irrelevant when the devil looked like Luca Barbarigo.
The water taxi cruised slowly down the Grand Canal, past yet more examples of Venice’s architectural treasures, and out past the crowded St Mark’s Square with its magnificent Doge’s Palace and towering Campanile. Across the basin, the church of San Giorgio Maggiore and its belltower stood majestically on their own island.
She’d come here not as a tourist. She’d come to Venice with no thought of sightseeing, but it was impossible not to drink in the sights and be awed by the spectacle.
How could anyone remain unmoved, when the shifting view revealed such a feast for the eyes with every turn? And then Luca turned his head and she caught his profile and the feasting continued.
Such sculpted perfection, she thought, such classical chiselled features. He belonged here in Venice, amongst the beautiful and the magnificent. He was a part of it. And as she drank his dark beauty in, she wondered...
