hour later to the object of her turbulent thoughts.
‘Don’t I get a smile?’ Dex demanded in a throaty drawl.
She had managed to stay calm long enough to say hello to him over the intercom and let him in to the building. But seeing him in the flesh knocked every sensible resolution out of her head. He was leaning with one arm propped against the doorframe, his large body almost blocking the light and angled towards Beth.
She couldn’t help it. Her green eyes widened in fascinated appraisal of the man in front of her. ‘Dark and dangerous’ flashed through her mind. She had only seen him wearing a formal suit before, but this morning he was dressed in a black roll-neck sweater, and a black leather blouson jacket sloped off his broad shoulders. His faded blue jeans were verging on the indecent, slung low on his hips, with a leather belt threaded through the loops that Beth was sure was not necessary to hold them up. They fitted him like a second skin, hugging his long, long legs, with a tell-tale lighter patch in a more intimate place. Flushing furiously, she raised her eyes to his and went even redder.
His grey eyes gleamed with a mocking, sensuous delight. He knew exactly how his overt masculinity affected her. ‘Are you going to ask me in, Beth, or am I supposed to stay here all day?’
‘No, no… of course. Yes, yes, come in…’ she prattled like a demented fool, stepping back and signalling with her hand for him to enter. His husky laugh simply added to her confusion.
He stood in the middle of her sitting room and slowly looked around. ‘This is not at all what I expected,’ he said, with a wry shake of his dark head.
It was her home, and immediately Beth was on the defensive. ‘I’ve only lived here a couple of months, and it takes time and money to buy furniture and things.’
Beth looked around her living room, trying to see it through Dex’s eyes. It was small—one corner was completely taken up with her computer and a large drawing board, another with the television and CD player. On the walls she had pinned a few of her favourite posters. Her one and only armchair, in battered black leather, stood next to an old wooden chest she had bought on the Portobello Road to use as a coffee table. The rest of the furniture consisted of three cheap and cheerful scarlet bean bags.
Dex stepped towards her, and, tilting her face up to his, with a finger under her chin, said, ‘I did not mean to offend you. I love your decor. It is like you—bright and colourful.’
‘Yes, well.’ With his grey eyes smiling down into hers, she was almost lost for words.
‘I was surprised by the drawing board; you really do work as a graphic artist and obviously take your job seriously if you bring work home.’
‘Not so much bring work home; I like to experiment with ideas on the computer and then transfer them to the bigger, more traditional board. I find I get a better view that way,’ she replied, finally managing to string a reasonable sentence or two together.
‘A better view.’ Dex’s hand fell from her chin and he glanced around the room again. ‘That is a good idea; I must remember that,’ he said enigmatically.
Beth watched him, an odd breathlessness afflicting her as his grey gaze captured hers. His dark head bent towards her, and for a second she had the impression he was going to kiss her. But, instead, he lifted his hand and brushed a stray wisp of her hair behind her ear.
‘Unless you want to give me a guided tour of your bedroom, I suggest we leave.’
There was no mistaking the teasing gleam in his eyes, and Beth reciprocated in kind. ‘I am quite sure you’ve never needed to be guided around any lady’s bedroom in your life. Your type are born knowing the way.’
Dex chuckled, and then laughed out loud. ‘You know me too well already. That makes you a dangerous lady,’ he drawled in genuine amusement, and he was still grinning when they left the building and he helped her into the front passenger seat of a black BMW car.
The shared humour lasted. As he drove Dex regaled her with stories of some of the more colourful gamblers he had met at his casinos. She howled with laughter when he described an elderly lady tourist who had holidayed on one of his luxury liners cruising around the Mediterranean. Apparently, after visiting the island of Sicily, the lady, on returning to the ship, had been most indignant and insisted on complaining to the captain, because she had been told the volcano, Mount Etna was live, but it had not erupted while she was there.
Listening to him talk, Beth also realised he took his work very seriously. His head office was in Rome, where he spent most of the time, but he also made a point of trying to visit every hotel, cruise liner and casino he owned at least once a year. At present he was staying at his London hotel until his business in London was completed. He had an apartment in New York, but he preferred Italy, and Beth surmised his real home was Rome.
The information he freely offered about his lifestyle should have reassured her. But in fact it only underlined what she already knew. He was a sophisticated, dynamic business tycoon, and way out of the reach of a struggling graphic artist.
But, glancing sideways at him as the car sped out of the city and into the open countryside, Beth hoped she was wrong. She noted the slight frown lines between his eyes as he tried to read a signpost, and somehow he looked younger, not quite so self-assured. Maybe it was the casual clothes he wore, she mused. For a long moment she stared at him in pure feminine appreciation of his virile male form, the fast-becoming familiar feelings exploding inside her.
To get her mind off his sexy body, and under control, she asked, ‘Where are we going? You never said.’
He flashed her a grin. ‘All the way,’ he drawled, and paused until he saw the colour flood her cheeks. ‘Relax. To the New Forest, I hope.’
‘You do know the way?’ Beth queried.
‘Don’t worry, I have a picnic hamper in the back. We can eat in the car if we have to.’
But they did not have to. Dex soon parked along a forest trail at the edge of a clearing. Beth got out of the car and looked around in delight: a more perfect destination would be hard to find. The New Forest in October, with its deciduous trees a blaze of red, yellow and gold, in stark contrast to the deep dark green of the pines, was a feast for the eyes.
Roaming through the woods hand in hand, they spotted red squirrels, dozens of rabbits, and of course the wild ponies the forest was famous for, along with the unexpected pleasure of seeing a small deer. Returning to the car, Dex collected a hamper and blanket from the trunk. He spread the tartan rug on the ground beneath the branches of a massive oak tree and placed the hamper in the middle.
A hamper from the best department store in London, what else! Beth thought with a wry grin, but nothing could spoil her enjoyment of the afternoon and her companion. The unusual warmth of the autumn day saw them both shed their jackets and lounge on the blanket, the hamper between them. They investigated its contents and nibbled caviar and pâté, washed down with champagne. Then they dined on chicken and French bread, along with various cheeses, with fresh exotic fruits to finish. Finally, Beth collapsed flat on her back and fell asleep.
She stirred and turned her head; something was biting her ear, something else was crawling up her arm. Her eyes slowly opened. Not something but someone, she realised, with a leap of her heart.
‘You look so irresistible when you sleep,’ Dex’s seductive voice rumbled in her ear.
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