‘I was right; I should have left you to the gaming tables. You are more than a distraction; you’re a lethal weapon, lady.’ He grinned, a self-deprecating smile, and, clasping her hand in his, he added, ‘Come and I will show you the rest of my newly acquired toys, before we get into any more trouble.’
Beth was grateful for his matter-of-fact attitude; it helped to calm her leaping responses. Then Mr Black appeared at the end of the hall and it was back to business for Dex. They left her sitting in a functional office and retired to an inner sanctum, Dex having explained that it was the manager’s office and also the strongroom.
Beth spent the rest of their evening together in an emotional haze, trying to deal with her chaotic response to Dex. She was glad when, on returning to the outer office, he suggested taking her home. In the car he arranged to call for her the next morning at ten, and, on walking her to the door of her apartment, the light kiss he pressed on her lips was warm and somehow reassuring.
Tired, but happy, she crawled into bed, expecting to sleep. But she lay awake for hours, her mind reliving the events of the night. The intimate dinner with Dex, the sound of his deep, sexy voice, the touch of his hand. She tossed restlessly, her body unnaturally warm, her breasts hardening as she remembered the casino, and the sudden passionate interlude on the way to the office.
She turned over onto her stomach and buried her head in the pillow. Any more erotic memories, Beth told herself sternly, and she would never sleep. Closing her eyes, she tried to make her mind blank, but something niggled at her conscience until finally she remembered.
Dex had thrust the chips in her hand and told her to play. It had been odd… One minute he had been determined to leave her at the gaming tables, and yet he had changed his mind in a flash when she had spoken to Paul. Maybe Dex was jealous! Surely that proved he was as smitten with her as she was with him. On that happy notion, Beth drifted off to sleep.
CHAPTER THREE
BETH woke up to bright autumn sunshine blazing through the window, and she smiled to herself. It was an accurate reflection of how she felt inside, and all because Dexter Giordanni had entered her life… She said his name out loud as she jumped out of bed and headed for the shower, loving the sound of his name almost as much as she loved the man.
She froze, one foot in the shower stall; the enormity of what she had just admitted to herself hit her like a bolt from the blue. Slowly she stepped into the shower and turned on the water. The impossible had happened. She had fallen in love at first sight.
A worried frown creased her smooth brow. What was she thinking of? In love… she couldn’t be. Beth had always prided herself on being sensible where men were concerned, and had never let a man get too close to her. The example of her mother, Leanora, had taught her from an early age that there was no such thing as true love. And watching her stepbrother’s girlfriends come and go like yo-yos had confirmed Beth’s cynicism where the L-word was concerned. Yet here she was, mooning like a love-sick calf over a man she had only just met.
Dex was an experienced man of the world. He probably knew exactly how he affected her. Who was she fooling? Not probably, positively! Beth blushed at the memory of being locked in his arms, his hand on her breast, her thigh. Abruptly she turned the water from hot to cold, and when she felt thoroughly numb she stepped out of the shower and rubbed herself down with a large towel with a lot more force than was strictly necessary—memories of her years in the convent school reminding her of the sins of the flesh.
Dried, and dressed in navy trousers, a white silk shirt and a buttercup-yellow wool cardigan, Beth ate her breakfast of cereal and toast. Lingering in the kitchen over her second cup of coffee, she told herself she must slow down where Dex was concerned. She had dressed conservatively, and she would act with reserve in his company today. She was frightened of how he could make her feel, and her innate common sense told her she hardly knew the man.
It was a much more subdued Beth who opened the door an hour later to the object of her turbulent thoughts.
‘Don’t I get a smile?’ Dex demanded in a throaty drawl.
She had managed to stay calm long enough to say hello to him over the intercom and let him in to the building. But seeing him in the flesh knocked every sensible resolution out of her head. He was leaning with one arm propped against the doorframe, his large body almost blocking the light and angled towards Beth.
She couldn’t help it. Her green eyes widened in fascinated appraisal of the man in front of her. ‘Dark and dangerous’ flashed through her mind. She had only seen him wearing a formal suit before, but this morning he was dressed in a black roll-neck sweater, and a black leather blouson jacket sloped off his broad shoulders. His faded blue jeans were verging on the indecent, slung low on his hips, with a leather belt threaded through the loops that Beth was sure was not necessary to hold them up. They fitted him like a second skin, hugging his long, long legs, with a tell-tale lighter patch in a more intimate place. Flushing furiously, she raised her eyes to his and went even redder.
His grey eyes gleamed with a mocking, sensuous delight. He knew exactly how his overt masculinity affected her. ‘Are you going to ask me in, Beth, or am I supposed to stay here all day?’
‘No, no… of course. Yes, yes, come in…’ she prattled like a demented fool, stepping back and signalling with her hand for him to enter. His husky laugh simply added to her confusion.
He stood in the middle of her sitting room and slowly looked around. ‘This is not at all what I expected,’ he said, with a wry shake of his dark head.
It was her home, and immediately Beth was on the defensive. ‘I’ve only lived here a couple of months, and it takes time and money to buy furniture and things.’
Beth looked around her living room, trying to see it through Dex’s eyes. It was small—one corner was completely taken up with her computer and a large drawing board, another with the television and CD player. On the walls she had pinned a few of her favourite posters. Her one and only armchair, in battered black leather, stood next to an old wooden chest she had bought on the Portobello Road to use as a coffee table. The rest of the furniture consisted of three cheap and cheerful scarlet bean bags.
Dex stepped towards her, and, tilting her face up to his, with a finger under her chin, said, ‘I did not mean to offend you. I love your decor. It is like you—bright and colourful.’
‘Yes, well.’ With his grey eyes smiling down into hers, she was almost lost for words.
‘I was surprised by the drawing board; you really do work as a graphic artist and obviously take your job seriously if you bring work home.’
‘Not so much bring work home; I like to experiment with ideas on the computer and then transfer them to the bigger, more traditional board. I find I get a better view that way,’ she replied, finally managing to string a reasonable sentence or two together.
‘A better view.’ Dex’s hand fell from her chin and he glanced around the room again. ‘That is a good idea; I must remember that,’ he said enigmatically.
Beth watched him, an odd breathlessness afflicting her as his grey gaze captured hers. His dark head bent towards her, and for a second she had the impression he was going to kiss her. But, instead, he lifted his hand and brushed a stray wisp of her hair behind her ear.
‘Unless you want to give me a guided tour of your bedroom, I suggest we leave.’
There was no mistaking the teasing gleam in his eyes, and Beth reciprocated in kind. ‘I am quite sure you’ve never needed to be guided around any lady’s bedroom in your life. Your type are born knowing the way.’
Dex chuckled, and then laughed out loud. ‘You know me too well already. That makes you a dangerous lady,’ he drawled in genuine amusement, and he was still grinning when they left the building and he helped her into the front passenger seat of a black BMW car.
The shared humour lasted. As he drove Dex regaled her with stories of some of the more colourful gamblers