build,” she said. “How will this help Amanti?”
His gaze slid down her body, heat trailing behind it. Dangerous, a voice whispered.
He took his time meeting her eyes again. “Have you not heard of the Leonidas Group?”
She was proud of herself for not showing her surprise. If the Leonidas Group wanted to build a hotel on Amanti, that could be a very good thing. “Of course I have. They own some of the most luxurious hotels in the world and cater to the wealthiest of clients. Do you work for them, Mr. Jackson?”
His laughter was rich, rolling from him in golden tones that vibrated through her. “I own the Leonidas Group, Anna.”
Again with her name, and again with the prickle of awareness skimming along her nerve endings. “How fortunate for Amanti,” she said, because she could think of nothing else to say. She felt like a fool for missing the Leo in Leonidas, though it wasn’t an immediately obvious connection. But if he owned the Leonidas Group, he must be very wealthy indeed.
He leaned in closer. “Perhaps you will change your mind about tomorrow, then.”
Heat coiled tightly inside her. His voice was a delicious rumble in her ear, though she tried not to notice precisely how delicious. She was tired, that was all. He was just a man, and men were fickle. Unpredictable. Dishonorable.
She closed her eyes, her heart thrumming steadily. It was uncharitable to think of Alex that way, and yet she couldn’t help it. He’d made a promise, damn him!
“I will have to check my calendar,” she said coolly.
His smile made her heart skip a beat. Too, too charming. Perhaps his sister was equally as charming. Perhaps that’s how she’d stolen Alex away.
“And yet, when you wake up and see the morning papers, you will no doubt wish yourself far from Santina.”
A current of dread slid through her, icy fingers scraping her soul. The papers. They would be filled with news of Alex and Allegra tomorrow—and she would be mentioned side by side with them. The poor jilted bride. The faithful girl who’d been stood up by a prince. Sad little heiress, no longer a queen-in-waiting.
Anna’s throat constricted. She absolutely did not want to be here tomorrow. And he was giving her a way out, though she would have to endure his company. But which was worse? The media frenzy, or Leo Jackson?
If she took him to Amanti, they wouldn’t escape the attention entirely, but at least they would be out of Alex and Allegra’s proximity. Perhaps the press might not think her so sad and distraught if she were seen going about her duties.
“I’ve just remembered,” she said, proud that she managed to sound so cold and detached. Professional. “My appointment isn’t for tomorrow after all. I keep getting my days mixed up. It’s for the next day.”
“Is that so?” Leo said, his gaze slipping over her once more. There was heat and promise in that voice, and a hint of possession, as well. It infuriated her—and intrigued her.
“If you wish to tour Amanti,” she said crisply, already partially regretting the impulse that had her choosing him over tomorrow’s papers, “we can leave around nine in the morning.”
“Nine?” he mocked. “I doubt I’ll have slept off tonight’s debaucheries by then.”
Anna felt her ears going hot. She refused to picture any debauchery. “Nine o’clock, Mr. Jackson. Or not at all.”
“You drive a hard bargain, darling,” he drawled, as if he weren’t in the least bit dangerous to her sense of well-being. “But we’ll do it your way.”
Before she knew what he was about, he caught her hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it. Her skin tingled as his warm breath washed over her, his beautiful lips skimming so lightly over her flesh. She couldn’t suppress the small shudder that racked her body or the ache of sensation that made her crave more of his touch.
Leo Jackson looked up, his gaze sharp. Too sharp. As if he’d seen through to the core of her and knew what she’d been thinking. That devilish grin was back as his coffee-colored eyes glittered with heat. “Tomorrow, darling,” he said. “I look forward to it.”
Anna pulled her hand away, tried very hard to ignore the pulsing throb in her belly, between her legs. “I’m not your darling, Mr. Jackson.”
He winked. “Not yet. But let’s see what tomorrow brings, shall we?”
After a restless night, Anna rose early the next morning, and then showered and dressed with care. She was the tourist ambassador to Amanti, not a woman going on a date, so she chose a fashionable skirt and blazer. She paired the gray suit with a red silk camisole—her one nod to color—her pearls, and gray suede pumps. She wrapped her long dark hair in a neat knot and secured it with pins. Then she slipped on mascara and lip gloss before walking over to the cheval glass and studying her reflection from head to toe.
She looked professional, competent. Precisely the way she wanted to appear. She absolutely did not care whether Leo Jackson found her attractive or not.
Liar.
Anna frowned at herself. She wasn’t unattractive; she was professional. And she intended to stay that way. If she could control nothing else about these chaotic past few weeks, she could at least control her image. And this was the image she wanted to project. Serenity in the face of turmoil. Grace under fire. A calm port in the storm.
Anna patted her hair one last time before she whirled away from the mirror, found her handbag and cell phone, checked her calendar to make sure she’d taken care of everything and left her room at precisely twenty to nine. Her room was two floors up from Leo Jackson’s room, but first she took an elevator down to the dining room and grabbed a quick cup of coffee and a whole-grain muffin before going back up to Leo’s floor. At three minutes to nine, she knocked on his door.
Nothing happened. Anna frowned as she listened for movement behind the door. She checked her watch, studied the sweep of the second hand across the mother-of-pearl face. At nine o’clock precisely, she knocked again. “Mr. Jackson?” she said, pressing her face close to the door in order not to wake any of the other late-sleeping guests in nearby rooms. “Are you in there?”
Two minutes later, when she’d knocked yet again—louder this time, because she was getting very annoyed—the door jerked open.
Anna’s stomach flipped at the sight of Leo Jackson in all his bad-boy glory. Heavens above, why did this man have to be so compelling? She should feel nothing for him but contempt. Not only had his family wrecked her perfect life, but he was also not the sort of man a proper lady should ever get involved with.
Yet heat bloomed in her cheeks as she thought of his comment last night about debauchery. Because that’s precisely what he looked like—as if he’d spent the night in some lucky woman’s bed, debauching her thoroughly.
Before she could control herself, Anna thought that she wanted to be debauched. Thoroughly. Repeatedly.
If she could have slapped her palms to her cheeks in horror, she would have done so. She most definitely did not want to be debauched—and certainly not by this rogue.
“Hello, darling,” Leo
