‘Maybe he is—he’s a free agent—but I’m not…Staying, that is—not not a free agent. Which I am—’ She broke off, lifted a hand to her head and sighed.
The other woman observed her pale, drawn face and looked remorseful. ‘Look at me, chattering on when what you need is some peace and quiet. I’ll send you up some brandy. Now, off you go and get out of those wet things. The bathrooms here are really marvelous—when I think what the plumbing was like when I was a girl…’ Shaking her head she lifted a hand in farewell and left Sam alone…finally.
Lying in the deep bath, her senses soothed by the decadent oils she had added to the water, Sam’s thoughts turned to the day’s extraordinary events. Her mind, pleasantly blurry from the shot of brandy she ought to have refused—though it would have taken a very strong person to say no to the redoubtable Dorothy—kept returning again and again to that bone-melting kiss.
She had not known that kisses like that one existed! Let alone realised what she had been missing!
Now she knew, and it had been Alessandro who had been the catalyst—the man who had been in the right place at the right time and pressed all the right buttons.
‘It could have been anyone.’ The room was empty, so the only voice of dissent to this defiant statement was in her own head. Are you sure about that…?
She sat upright, her expression mutinous and set. ‘Too right I’m sure. There’s nothing special about Alessandro Di Livio.’
The sheer ludicrousness of this contention drew a pained laugh from her throat as she slid back into the water. Alessandro was a lot of things, but commonplace was not one of them…!
Approaching twenty-four and she had never lost control…now, that was worrying. Even more worrying was the fact that she had not seen the appeal of such a loss until now! A part of her wished that the searing kiss had never happened, that she was still walking around in blissful ignorance, but another part of her was inclined to relive the moment again and again…!
Recalling once more those initial moments of boneless, melting submission made her heart-rate quicken. As Alessandro had plundered her mouth the submission had given way to something equally outside her experience: a frantic, inarticulate need to touch and taste…to fuse with his male heat and hardness. Thinking about the primitive response made her breathing quicken and her pale, translucent skin turn a rosy pink.
Sighing she sank beneath the water. Surfacing moments later, she brushed the fronds of water-darkened hair from her face. She knew she loved Jonny. It had been a given in her life for so long that she just hadn’t questioned it—not until Alessandro had put doubts in her head with his sneers.
‘I do love Jonny!’ she announced defiantly to the steamy bathroom.
Just because you couldn’t imagine yourself having steamy head-banging sex with someone it didn’t mean you didn’t love them! And, by the same token, just because you could imagine it, it didn’t mean you did!
No, the stuff with Alessandro was just about sex. Maybe, she thought, lifting her head as the depressing possibility struck her, you couldn’t have love and sex. You had to settle for one or the other. Now, that was a depressing thought.
Chapter Eight
SHE was belting a big fluffy robe when there was a tap on the interconnecting door. Without waiting for her to respond, the door opened and Alessandro walked in.
‘What—?’ she said, her voice accusing, because his presence sent her hard-won composure straight out of the window.
‘I did knock,’ he observed, dropping the jacket he was carrying on the bed and walking towards her.
‘The idea of knocking is that you wait for someone to invite you in…or tell you go away.’
‘You don’t want me to go away.’
His calm assurance made her want to hit him. Lips pursed, she lowered her eyes. He had changed into a pale cashmere sweater and dark, close-fitting jeans, he smelt of soap and himself, and he looked sexy enough to cause mass hysteria in the female population of a small planet!
‘Believe that if it makes you feel happy.’ Tightening the belt on her robe, she was reminded of the fact she didn’t have a stitch on underneath.
‘I didn’t come here to fight with you,’ he said, sounding weary. ‘I came to ask what you want to do about dinner. Do you want to eat here, or with the other guests? Though I must warn you up-front that a quiet dinner downstairs isn’t an option. Smithie favours dining dinner-party-style.’
‘I don’t want to eat full-stop. I’m going home.’
‘Don’t be stupid—you must be hungry.’
Sam’s eyes narrowed. ‘Don’t call me stupid.’ She glared into his eyes and lost the plot. He had such gorgeous eyes—dark and deep and so, so…sexy…they made you want…Gasping sharply, she pulled herself up before she lost it completely. ‘So you know,’ she said, ‘what I’d really like…?’
‘What?’ he asked, thinking she looked so pale and brittle that she might break if handled roughly. But he knew she wasn’t that fragile. She hadn’t felt breakable when he had held her in his arms. She had been supple, strong, and so very, very hot.
‘I’d like you to leave right now.’ Before I do something very stupid. ‘Walk out of that door and never come back.’ Her problem was she was in danger of believing there was something between them. The only thing between us is two years of not liking one another.
While they had been talking he had been moving towards her and she had been retreating, matching him step for step. Of course his steps were bigger than hers, and by the time her shoulders made contact with the wall and she could retreat no farther he was so close she could see the fine lines radiating from the corners of his eyes.
‘You don’t mean that.’
‘I do,’ she said, putting as much conviction into the lie as she could.
Alessandro, the strong bones of his face drawn taut against his golden skin, regarded her pale face in silence before his eyes dropped. ‘If you tell me you’re not interested I’ll walk away.’ His eyes lifted, and she was pinned beneath a taut, combustible stare that made the muscles in her abdomen quiver.
Sam blinked to clear the rash of red dots that danced across her vision, conscious as she did so of the heavy thrum of blood as it beat through her body. Chirpy, she told herself. You need to aim for chirpy, but firm.
Fingers crossed, she scrunched up her face in a mask of determination as she told herself over and over…You can do it; you can do it…!
She opened her eyes, and he looked so damned gorgeous standing there, so dark and lean and excitingly dangerous, that her will-power almost crumbled. My God, but being virtuous and sensible was not all it was cracked up to be, she thought dully.
‘I’m not…interested.’ She failed miserably with chirpy, but by some freaky accident she hit bored and couldn’t-give-a-damn dead centre!
Other than a slight clenching of his muscles no visible reaction to her reply registered on his strong-boned, autocratic features. When he responded a moment later his tone was coloured only with an easy come, easy go quality.
At least I know I definitely made the right call, she thought.
Just because she’d decided that it was time she moved on with her life and stopped being faithful to a relationship that had never existed outside her imagination, it didn’t mean her personality and values had changed beyond recognition.
She was realistic. She hadn’t been walking around with her eyes and ears closed. She knew that for a lot of men—and, for that matter,