Luca’s mouth twisted grimly as he considered the options. If Daniela or anyone suspected something, then he and Hannah would have to make doubly sure that they were convincing. Striding towards the wardrobe, he reached for his tux.
He was just straightening his bow tie when Hannah emerged from the bathroom, her chin held high, her eyes veiled. Luca’s gaze dropped to her dress and his throat went dry. It was the one she’d modelled at the boutique, ice-blue with a plunging neckline only partially obscured by the gauzy overlay. She’d styled her hair in an elegant chignon, exposing the delicate, swanlike curve of her neck.
‘It’s all right, isn’t it?’ Hannah asked, nervousness making her voice wobble a bit.
‘Yes...’ Luca’s voice came out gruff and hoarse.
Hannah tugged at the material self-consciously. ‘It’s just you’re looking at me strangely.’
‘It’s only...’ He cleared his throat. ‘You look beautiful, Hannah.’
Colour flared in her face. ‘So why are you glaring, then?’ She turned away, fidgeting with her earrings, her necklace, clearly uncomfortable in the sexy, diaphanous gown.
‘Hannah.’ Luca crossed the room to put a hand on her shoulder, her skin cool and soft beneath his palm. ‘I’m sorry I’ve been in such a foul mood. It’s not fair to you.’ He paused and then admitted with more honesty than he’d been planning to give, ‘Nothing about this weekend has been fair to you.’
Hannah bowed her head, a tendril of soft brown hair falling against her cheek, making Luca want to tuck it behind her ear, trail his fingers along her skin. ‘I was actually looking forward to this evening, you know,’ she admitted. ‘Until...’
‘Until I returned to our room?’ Luca finished with a wry wince, and then sighed. ‘I am sorry. You don’t deserve to bear the brunt of my bad mood.’
‘So many apologies.’ She turned around, a teasing smile curving her lips. ‘I should record this conversation, otherwise I might never believe it actually happened.’
‘I’ll deny it, of course,’ he teased back. He’d dropped his hand from her shoulder when she’d turned around but he itched to touch her again. Her waist looked so tiny he thought he could span it with his hands. The gauzy overlay of the dress made him want to peel it away and touch the pale, creamy flesh beneath. He remembered untying the halter top of the dress back when she’d first tried it on and he wanted to do it again. He wanted her...and he could tell she wanted him.
He saw it in the way she swallowed convulsively, her eyes huge and dark in her pale face. She bit her lip and Luca nearly groaned aloud. The attraction he felt for his PA was both overwhelming and inconvenient, but in that moment he couldn’t even think about the consequences, the difficulties, the dangers. He just wanted to touch her.
And so he did.
He reached out with one finger and stroked her cheek; her skin was just as soft as he’d imagined, silky and cool. She shuddered under his touch, her whole body quivering in response, and that made Luca ache all the more.
‘Hannah...’ he began, although he didn’t even know what he would say. How much he would admit.
Hannah didn’t let him finish. She took a halting step away, nearly tripping on the trailing hem of her gown. ‘It’s—it’s getting late,’ she stammered. ‘We should go.’
And Luca told himself he felt relieved and not crushingly disappointed that he’d had such a narrow escape.
HANNAH SIPPED THE frothy cocktail Andrew Tyson had insisted she try, an island speciality involving fruit and strong liquor, and tried to soothe the ferment inside her. Now more than ever she felt confused and disturbed, and, more alarmingly, tempted by Luca Moretti.
She couldn’t understand how one moment he could be so aggravating and arrogant and the next so sweet and sincere. She’d gone from wanting to slug him to wanting to purr under that single, seductive stroke of his finger. The tiniest touch had created a blaze of want inside her that was still making her hot and bothered. She imagined what he could do with his whole hand, his whole body, and felt another sizzling dart of heat arrow through her.
She could not start thinking about Luca Moretti that way. All right, yes, his sex appeal had started affecting her ever since they’d left their normal employer–employee relationship behind at the office, but she hadn’t taken it seriously. She hadn’t actually entertained the possibility of something happening between them.
Now her mind skirted around that intriguing thought, flirted with the possibility of—what? A fling? A one-night stand? Hannah was sensible enough to know Luca Moretti wasn’t interested in anything more, and she wasn’t interested in any relationship, much less one with a man who had sworn off marriage and children, and was a notorious womaniser. But she wasn’t the type to have casual sex; she never had before. And to contemplate it with her boss...
And yet desire was a powerful thing. The sight of him in his tuxedo was enough to make her head spin and her mouth dry. The crisp white shirt emphasised his bronzed skin, and the tuxedo jacket fit his broad shoulders and narrow hips perfectly. He was incredible, darkly magnificent, so next to him James Garrison looked like a weedy fop, Simon Tucker a corpulent would-be Santa Claus. Luca was literally head and shoulders above the other men, a gorgeous, arrogant Colossus who looked as if he could straddle the world. The only man who nearly matched his height was Andrew Tyson, and his shoulders were stooped with age, his face lined and eyes faded.
Luca had spent the first part of the evening by her side, charming and solicitous to everyone, clearly working the room. When Tyson had entered the opulent sitting room, Luca had slid an arm around Hannah’s waist, practically gluing her to his side. The bump of his hip against hers was enough to make sensation sizzle through her. She could feel the heat of his thigh through the thin material of her dress, and her insides tightened to an exquisite, aching point of desire.
She’d never responded so physically, so overwhelmingly, to a man before. Not, Hannah acknowledged, that she had a lot of experience. Ben, Jamie’s father, had been her only lover, and while she’d enjoyed being with him she hadn’t felt this desperate, craving physical touch like water in a parched desert.
Sliding sideways glances at Luca, she felt an overwhelming urge to touch him, to feel the rough stubble on his jaw, to discover if his lips felt soft or hard against hers. To feel his body against hers as she had that morning, and rock against him again, and then deeper still.
Heat flashed through her at the thought and Luca must have felt it, must have sensed her response, because he gave her a single, burning look before turning back to address Simon Tucker.
He knew how he affected her, maybe even how much. The thought would have been mortifying except that she knew she affected him too. He’d told her he’d been attracted to her that morning, and surely she couldn’t feel this kind of chemistry if it were merely one-sided.
So the question was, could she do anything about it? Did she dare? She wasn’t looking for a relationship, wouldn’t put herself or Jamie at risk of being hurt. She knew what happened when you loved people. You risked losing them. She’d lost too many times already to try again.
‘Hannah?’ Luca prompted, and she realised she had no idea what anyone had been saying for the last few minutes.
‘Sorry?’ She tried for a conciliatory yet loving smile. ‘I’m afraid I was a million miles away.’
‘No doubt planning your wedding,’ Simon joked good-naturedly. ‘Have you set a date?’
‘As soon as possible, as far as I’m concerned,’ Luca answered swiftly, with a squeeze of Hannah’s