mildly. ‘You can turn around.’
Taking a deep breath, Hannah did so. And dropped her gaze to his bare chest, his perfectly sculpted pectoral muscles lightly dusted with dark hair. The pyjama bottoms were slung low on his hips, so she could see the taut muscles of his abdomen, tapering down to... Quickly she jerked her gaze back up.
‘If you’re not worried that I’m going to ravish you, what are you afraid of?’ Luca asked.
Why did he have to sound so reasonable? And make her feel so ridiculous? ‘It just doesn’t seem appropriate,’ Hannah muttered.
‘Hannah, we passed “appropriate” a while ago.’ He took a step towards her, his hands outstretched. ‘Look, you were magnificent back there. The whole thing about the Eiffel tower and the ring? I was practically believing it myself. And you seemed like you were having fun.’ Hannah looked away, biting her lip. ‘Well?’ Luca pressed. ‘Were you?’
‘Sort of,’ she admitted. What woman wouldn’t like to step into a fairy tale for an evening, even if it was fake?
‘So maybe you should let go of what’s appropriate in this situation,’ Luca suggested, his voice dropping to a beguiling murmur, standing only a step away from her.
She had the insane urge to reach out and stroke his chest.
‘Let yourself enter into the spirit of the thing,’ Luca continued, his voice all honeyed persuasion. ‘Like you did tonight.’
‘And share your bed.’
‘In the literal sense only.’
‘Oh, you know I didn’t mean that,’ Hannah protested, her face flaming once more. She shook her head. ‘Honestly, you’re incorrigible.’
‘You’ve only just realised that?’ He turned to the huge bed and plucked the chocolate from the pillow. ‘So what are you waiting for?’ he asked as he unwrapped the chocolate and popped it into his mouth. ‘Come to bed.’
LUCA LAY IN BED, his arms braced behind his head, as he waited for Hannah to emerge from the bathroom. She’d been in there for quite a while, no doubt summoning her nerve to come out.
He didn’t feel bad about sharing the bed with her. He’d even suggested, before she’d huffed into the bathroom clutching her pyjamas, that she was free to construct a barrier of pillows between them if she really did fear for her virtue.
She’d rolled her eyes. ‘I can handle it,’ she’d retorted, which amused him because she’d been the one to get all worked up about the issue in the first place.
She’d been incredible tonight, though. Sparkling and funny and charming, and he’d seen how Andrew Tyson had come under her spell. He almost had. Luca had found his gaze continually moving towards her, ensnared by her tinkling laugh, her teasing smile, the way the light caught the honeyed highlights in her hair.
Several times he’d leaned forward to try to catch what she was saying, needing to know and not because of the pretence. Because he really wanted to hear.
Then he’d reminded himself that she was playing a part and so was he, and Andrew Tyson was falling for it. That was all that mattered. He had no sympathy for the man, no pity whatsoever. Watching Tyson, Luca had barely been able to sit across from him and keep a smile on his face. Hannah had at least provided a distraction from the rage that simmered beneath the surface, threatening to bubble over.
The door to the bathroom opened and Hannah stepped out. Her hair was loose about her face and she wore...
‘What the hell is that?’
Hannah glanced down at her roomy, faded T-shirt and shapeless boxer shorts. ‘My pyjamas.’
‘Didn’t you get pyjamas at the boutique?’
‘If you mean the scrap of lace that barely passes for a negligee, then yes. But I am not wearing that.’ She glowered at him, a flush firing her face. ‘There are limits, Luca.’
‘You can’t wear those. The staff come in to serve us breakfast in bed in the morning.’
Hannah didn’t look at him as she crossed the room and climbed into bed, dragging the duvet up to her chin. ‘So?’
‘So,’ Luca answered, ‘I want them thinking that we spent the night ravishing each other as any newly engaged couple on holiday would.’
The minute he said the words images emblazoned themselves on his brain. Heat flared inside him. And he felt Hannah stiffen next to him.
‘And they won’t think of that if I’m dressed like this?’ Hannah said after a moment. Her voice sounded suffocated. ‘Too bad.’
She turned away from him, her body radiating tension. Luca sighed and snapped off the lights. He’d pushed it far enough, he supposed, although in truth he wanted to see Hannah in a sexy nightgown for his own sake, never mind the staff who would come in the next morning.
‘You could have warned me about your friend,’ Hannah said after a tense silence when Luca had been willing the desire coursing through his body to fade.
‘My friend?’ he asked, nonplussed.
‘Daniela. She obviously knows you.’
‘We’ve met.’
‘You mean you’ve slept with her.’
Luca was silent, considering the assumption. He hadn’t slept with Daniela, although the Russian model had made it clear she’d wanted to. And considering what he was asking Hannah to do, he supposed she deserved to know the truth. ‘We went on a date,’ he said. ‘About a year ago. But nothing happened.’
‘I suppose she wished something did.’ Her voice was slightly muffled.
‘Maybe,’ Luca allowed.
‘Judging by the burning looks she was giving you over dinner, I’d say definitely. And she wasn’t impressed with me either. Not like that’s too surprising, though.’
Hannah’s words ended on a sigh and surprise flickered through him. ‘Why do you say that?’ he asked quietly.
Hannah didn’t answer for a moment. In the darkness he couldn’t see her features, only the taut shape of her body under the duvet. He heard the soft draw of her breath and it felt weirdly intimate. He realised he’d never actually slept in the same bed with a woman before. His assignations—he couldn’t even call them relationships—had always ended with a definitive post-coital farewell.
‘Well,’ Hannah said at last, ‘it’s obvious, isn’t it? A Plain Jane PA is hardly your type.’
‘You’re not a Plain Jane, Hannah.’
She laughed, a snort of genuine amusement that made him smile. ‘Come on, Luca. Your normal type is supermodels and socialites, right? I’m neither.’
‘That
