‘Then we had better make the most of that week.’ Marco watched as a flush of colour infused her cheeks and Imogen looked down into her glass, as if the bubbles could help her decide if she wanted to do exactly that.
‘Just what I said.’ Julie’s laughter-filled voice snagged his attention from Imogen. ‘So if you will excuse me, I’m going to go and do exactly that.’
Imogen’s head lifted quickly and she looked briefly at him, before turning to look back at Julie. ‘Is that so?’
‘Yes.’ Julie laughed as she was backing away, a skip almost in her step. ‘Marco will keep you company, I’m sure.’ Marco knew exactly what was going on. Julie had seen the spark of attraction between them and was playing at matchmaker.
He turned his attention back to Imogen. He liked her shyness. Surprisingly he found the idea of having to court a beautiful woman refreshing; instead of having them virtually fall at his feet—or into his bed. That was one of the things he now considered the downside of his wealth and family name. Women no longer saw him, they saw only what he could give them, but just Imogen seemed indifferent to all that, despite the designer dress she was wearing. He had the distinct impression such actions were much more the way of her cousin than her.
‘I’m sorry about that,’ Imogen said, shyness creeping back into her voice. This week was going to be a lot more interesting than he’d anticipated. The beautiful Imogen was just the antidote he needed before heading back to New York and facing the music. Maybe he’d even do the unthinkable and turn his phone off for a day or two, make his time here a moment of true escape. So long as it involved a night with Imogen he’d consider it worth doing. He wasn’t about to turn his back on the high-voltage spark between them. He’d allow the attraction between them to develop naturally, something he’d never indulged in before. The thought of making the whole encounter longer, before the inevitable conclusion of hot, passionate sex, fired his desire even more. He was going to enjoy this chase.
‘I have no objection to keeping you company,’ he said as she looked up at him and once again he was lost in the swirling blue of her eyes, only vaguely aware of Julie leaving. ‘We have a bottle of champagne and the whole night ahead of us. What could be more perfect?’
Her coy smile made his breath catch and for once in his life, even if he hadn’t decided to make it last, he wasn’t at all sure what the outcome of this night would be. Underneath her flirtatious smiles and the enticingly sexy dress, he sensed Imogen might be different from any woman he’d ever had an affair with. He liked it. He liked the excitement which zipped through him because he would have to work for her, court her, in order to win her into his bed. It excited him because it was something he’d never had to do before.
‘I’m not going to manage the entire bottle myself now that Julie has gone.’ Imogen laughed softly, and again that coy smile. ‘I’m not used to drinking it. The bubbles will go straight to my head.’
He frowned. Surely a society girl who was used to partying and being wined and dined was used to champagne. He dismissed the question from his mind, preferring the ever-increasing need to kiss this woman. ‘Then I suggest we take our time.’
She looked at him from beneath lowered lashes as she tucked her hair behind her ear. It wasn’t an attempt to flirt and not at all the usual kind of playing with hair that would leave him in no doubt the woman in question wanted him. It made her seem shy, wary of him. If she was really unused to male attention then he would have to abandon his usual seduction routine. A thought that filled him with anticipation.
‘I’d like that,’ she said with that lovely smile.
He put aside his brandy glass and with one nod at the bartender to bring the champagne on ice and fresh glasses he turned to Imogen. ‘Shall we find somewhere more comfortable? A little more private perhaps?’
Briefly a look of panic rushed over Imogen’s face, but then she shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly, her hair sliding off the bare skin, revealing the thin straps of the dress and far more of her creamy, soft breasts than he was sure she’d be happy with. It certainly stirred up the lust-filled passion in him, but it also made him question if she was in a relationship. He couldn’t imagine why any sane man wouldn’t want to keep this woman to himself, and he never became entangled with a woman if she was involved or married.
‘Yes, that’s a perfect idea.’ Her voice was almost a whisper, which only added fuel to the fire of building desire within him.
He placed his hand in the small of her back, lightly pressing against her as they moved away from the bar to the more secluded areas surrounding the restaurant area.
‘I hope that I am not treading on anyone’s toes.’ He pulled a seat out for her as the bartender brought the champagne bucket and glasses. Marco shook his head at him when he attempted to pour it.
Imogen frowned at him. ‘Anyone’s toes?’
He glanced at her left hand. No wedding ring. ‘Surely a woman as beautiful as you must have a fiancé or boyfriend at home in London?’
* * *
Imogen blinked back the sharp stab of betrayal at the mention of a fiancé, but it wasn’t this man’s fault that Gavin had walked out on her. The handsome and very charming Marco had no way of knowing Gavin had turned his back on her, on everything, just one week before she should have walked down the aisle with him. Or that Gavin had only recently married another woman after claiming marriage wasn’t for him and that he’d only gone along with it because their families had pushed them into it.
‘No boyfriend and no fiancé,’ she said as lightly as she could, watching him expertly pour the champagne.
The light shone in his dark hair and his tanned complexion hinted at a Mediterranean heritage. He looked up at her and his inky black eyes met hers and she blushed, caught out in the act of appraising him.
He handed her a glass of champagne and she knew without doubt this was a man who moved in very different circles to the normal nine-to-five kind of life she led. Everything about him screamed wealth and power. He was completely out of her league. Imogen had no idea why she was doing this, why she’d gone along with Julie’s suggestion and allowed herself to get so carried away with the fantasy of the island they had unexpectedly been sent to as part of their job.
She also had no idea why she, of all the women here tonight, was sitting at a romantic and very secluded table with the sexiest man in the bar. His tall, athletic body had stood out among all the other wealthy men in the restaurant as soon as she and Julie had arrived, but she’d kept her gaze averted. Men usually preferred Julie’s tall, slender figure to her short and far curvier one. Inwardly she berated herself. Gavin might have knocked her confidence, but she wasn’t going to allow him to send her back to the agony of bullying taunts from her schooldays.
She took the glass he offered her and knew this whole set-up was Julie’s doing. It had been her idea to use their time on this luxurious island to escape their dreary lives. If their employer, Bespoke Luxury Travel, had seen fit to send them to Silviano Leisure Group’s tropical island to sample the kind of luxury holidays the company could offer their clients, Julie had insisted they were going to live like those wealthy clients and sample everything—to the full.
Imogen just hadn’t expected a man like Marco to be part of that plan. He was so different from any man she’d met, so very focused on what he wanted, which right now she was in no doubt was her. Acting the flirty and vivacious blonde wasn’t her at all, but Julie’s suggestion that she needed a wild, passionate affair to finally move on from Gavin’s betrayal of last year had taken root in her mind. Imogen was once more happy and confident with her petite and curvy figure and wanted to prove as much to Julie.
No wonder Julie had practically pushed her at Marco. He was just the kind of man she’d label as a playboy: wealthy, handsome and lethally charming. Imogen smiled secretively to herself.