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He shrugged. ‘It wasn’t—’
‘Charity.’ She looked him in the eye. ‘Yes. I know. But thank you all the same.’
Her gratitude caused a ripple of guilt to radiate through him. The truth was she could have worn a sack and still outclassed every woman here—a fact he’d been confident of long before they’d arrived—but he had wanted to see her in something other than the nondescript black that seemed to have become her standard default. Had wanted, for reasons he refused to examine too closely, to see a glimpse of the old Helena.
She turned, lifted her face and broke into a smile that struck him square in the chest. ‘Whisper in my ear and kiss me,’ she said, her voice urgent, breathy. ‘Carlos is on his way over. And he has company.’
Well, hell... That was an invitation he didn’t need to hear twice. Without a beat of hesitation he put his lips to her ear, murmured a few words in Italian, then angled his mouth over hers.
And tried not to groan at the feel of her soft lips parting under his.
Just for show, he reminded himself, as the temptation to run his tongue into those warm, honeyed depths proved a true test of his restraint. Even knowing that his host approached and others looked on, he wanted to prolong the kiss into something far less chaste and fit for public display.
Helena, by contrast, appeared in full control, and by the time Carlos—and his daughter—reached their side she was rubbing the gloss off his lips and giggling as if they’d just shared some private joke.
Anna Santino glowered at them.
‘Good to see you again, my friend.’ Grinning, Carlos took Leo’s hand in a strong grip. ‘And Helena.’ He turned, clasped her hands and kissed her on both cheeks. ‘You look radiant, my dear. I am delighted you could make it.’
‘Thank you, Carlos.’
Her voice was husky, her cheeks tinged a delicate shade of pink. From the compliment? Or their kiss? The latter, he hoped.
‘And congratulations on your wedding anniversary. What a wonderful party your wife has thrown. Thank you again for inviting us both.’
Carlos inclined his head towards the dark-haired girl by his side. ‘May I introduce my daughter, Anna?’
Helena extended her hand, smiled warmly. ‘It’s a pleasure to meet you, Anna.’
‘Likewise,’ the younger woman said, her pretty face barely cracking a smile.
Had Leo been a betting man he’d have wagered that Carlos had dragged her over, told her to be polite, but the young socialite’s pout said she was in no mood to be gracious.
She dropped Helena’s hand and nodded at Leo, her brown eyes dark. Petulant. ‘Leo.’
‘Anna,’ he said, and felt Helena’s slender hand slide into his.
She pressed close and he caught a drift of the light, summery scent she wore on her skin. He tightened his hand over hers and she squeezed back, the contact spreading a peculiar warmth up his arm.
Smiling, she addressed Carlos. ‘Leo has persuaded me to stay in Rome for an entire week. I’m planning to sightsee while he’s working, but it’s hard to know where to start. There’s so much of your fabulous city to see.’
Smart girl. A safe, neutral topic and an irresistible opening to a man passionate about his city. Asking questions, listening intently, she kept the conversation alive until finally Carlos excused himself, invited them to a Sunday luncheon for their out-of-town guests, and moved on with his hosting duties. His sullen-faced daughter, who’d uttered not a word since the introductions, trailed away with him into the crowd.
Helena stared after them. ‘She looks so miserable I almost feel sorry for her.’
He snorted. ‘Don’t.’
‘Why not?’
‘She’s a pampered party girl with three priorities in life. Money, attention, and getting what she wants.’
Helena’s expression was contemplative. ‘She didn’t get you.’
Thank God. He almost shuddered with relief. ‘And see how she sulks.’
‘Yes.’ Helena sighed. ‘A tragedy in the making, no doubt.’ She hooked her arm through his. ‘I dare say the poor girl’s heart is ruined. You do realise she may never get over you?’
He narrowed his eyes. ‘Are you mocking me, Helena?’
