Stop it! she told herself in furious but silent reproof. Stop this nonsense right now!
The woman at the other side of the bar was staring straight at him, Giovanni Cardella realised. Staring straight at him with a mindless, dumbstruck expression on her face that made it look as if she had never seen a man before in her life. Sliding another glance in her direction through the concealment of thick, dark lashes, he frowned deeply, and dropped his eyes again to stare down into his glass.
Another woman.
Another woman who wasn’t Lucia.
Another woman who was making it plain that she found him attractive when that was the last thing on God’s earth that he wanted.
He was no fool. He knew that he had the sort of looks, the colouring, the height, the build that drew female eyes his way. And that when their gaze rested on him, it lingered. As soon as it had become known that he was alone, they had been there. The female vultures had gathered, all seeking to ‘comfort’ the rich widower.
But he had no time, no inclination for other women. There had only ever been one woman in his life—Lucia. And Lucia had been all he had ever wanted.
And this woman was no Lucia. For one thing, she was a pale ash blonde with the sort of delicate complexion that came with the impossible weather on this rain-soaked island. And she was tall; even though she was sitting down he could tell that. Lucia had been petite; slight, dark and stunning. This woman, with her blue-grey eyes and fair hair, was like the opposite. The negative to Lucia’s positive.
And she was still looking, damn her!
Today of all days, her bold stare felt like an invasion. It pushed into the privacy of his thoughts, intruded into his memories. And he hated that.
‘Madre di Dio!’
Hot fury washed over him, driving him to lift his eyes again, when he would far rather have kept them fixed on the ground. His gaze swinging to her face in a rush, he turned on her a blazing glare that held all the force of the rejection of her unsubtle approach that burned in his soul.
‘Oh, damn!’ Terrie muttered under her breath, horrified by the response her unthinking reaction had caused. ‘Damn, damn, damn!’
And the trouble was that even looking swiftly away and down at the table did nothing to ease the sensation of embarrassment and unease. She could still feel the scorch of his contempt searing over her skin, stripping her of a much-needed layer of protection.
‘Well, it’s time we got back.’
Beside her, Claire and Anna drained their glasses and made moves to get to their feet, picking up handbags, pushing back their chairs.
‘You coming, Terrie?’
‘What? No—I think I’ll give this last session a miss.’
What was she doing? This was the perfect opportunity to sneak out of there, disappear before she made an even greater fool of herself. If she went now, then she and this man, the stranger she had been caught staring at, would probably—hopefully—never catch sight of each other again. If she could hide herself in the bustle and crowds of the conference she had come here to attend then hopefully he would forget about her and her faux pas would be overlooked as well.
But the truth was that she really didn’t want to go. Even before she had come into the bar with her friends she had determined that the last session of the sales conference was more trouble than it was worth.
‘Are you sure?’
Terrie nodded emphatically, shaking loose some of the blonde locks that she had forced into a hopefully disciplined chignon at the start of the day so that they fell in disordered tendrils around her oval face.
‘Absolutely. I’ve been bored out of my skull from the start, and I really can’t take any more. Before I came here, I was beginning to suspect that a career in selling baby clothes just wasn’t for me—and now I’m absolutely positive that it’s not. As soon as I get back to Netherton, I’m handing in my notice and looking for something else. So there’s no point at all in my going back to hear the MD spouting about quotas and new lines.’
It sounded totally rational, clearly thought through. Nothing whatsoever to do with the fact that her sense of reality had just been severely rocked as a result of being confronted by the most devastating specimen of manhood she had ever seen. It had nothing to do with that, she told herself fiercely. Nothing at all.
‘Well, if you’ve made up your mind.’
Claire still looked uncertain, but Anna was pulling at her sleeve, tugging her away towards the door through which the other conference delegates were already streaming, heading back to the ballroom.
‘Definitely. I’m going to finish this drink and then go to my room and pack, ready for an early getaway tomorrow.’
‘Then we’ll see you at dinner?’
Terrie nodded abstractedly, her attention elsewhere. Until she had heard herself speak the words aloud, she hadn’t really been aware that she planned to say them. But now that she had, she knew that she meant everything she’d said.
She was bored. If the truth was told, she hated her job. Hated the long hours and the travelling involved in it. Hated trying to persuade people to buy overpriced, second-rate items. She didn’t know how she’d stuck it this long.
Well, from now on everything was going to change!
And for a start she wasn’t going up to her room to pack after all. She was going to stay here and have another drink and relax. Recover from the endurance test that had been the sales conference.
And she wasn’t even going to so much as glance in the direction of the wretched man on the other side of the room, she told herself as she got slowly to her feet. There was no way on earth that she wanted to risk another of those glares. She was still smarting from the scorching effect of the one she had already received.
Despite his determination not even to look in her direction again, Gio found that the woman’s movement drew his attention once more. She uncoiled her slim body like a cat, he couldn’t help reflecting, fascinated in spite of himself. Her movements were slow and sensual, the short stroll from her table to the bar making her slender hips sway underneath the deep red suit with its fitted jacket and narrow pencil skirt. The blonde hair was clearly fighting against the restraints of the too-severe knot she had twisted it up into, and feathery strands of it were blowing about her face, wafting onto her neck.
With a sigh of impatience that he caught even where he sat, she paused, reached up, pulled out a couple of strategically placed pins, and shook her head determinedly. The result caught Gio totally by surprise.
As the pale blonde swathe of hair came loose and tumbled down her back, flowing over her shoulders like a golden wave, he found himself suddenly a prey to an urgent, twisting pull of sensual demand low down in his body.
It had the force of a kick in his gut, hitting with the sort of intensity that he had thought that he would never experience again in his life.
‘Inferno!’ he swore under his breath, struggling to force his attention away and onto the narrow gold watch that encircled one wrist. Though even as he concentrated fiercely on its square face, he knew that every male instinct he possessed was still in a state of heightened awareness of the woman at the bar.
Where the devil was Chris Macdonald?
Drinks and a meal, and a chance to discuss how the day’s events had gone in court, he had suggested, and the prospect had seemed like a lifesaver to Gio, who had been dreading spending the time on his own. Once he’d talked to Paolo on the phone and wished his