from the mobile mouth, suddenly recalling the heart-stopping feel of lips that had once kissed hers as he continued speaking.
‘I’ve never actually met the bride before, but that is not surprising. James has only known her eight months, and it is out of necessity a bit of a rushed affair, I believe?’
Charming, but definitely arrogant and opinionated, Lucy thought, no longer having any trouble raising her fascinated gaze from his mouth to look up into his dark eyes. Her own sparked with anger at his slur on Samantha.
‘That is an unkind comment to make on what is a very happy day. Samantha is my friend, and for your information I happen to know it was love at first sight for both of them. Plus, James asked her to marry him before she knew she was pregnant.’
‘You are a loyal little thing—and, I think, a hopeless romantic. But I bow to your superior knowledge and apologise for my thoughtless comment. Now, let’s dance,’ he ended with a grin.
His rueful grin and the proximity of his big body were having a disastrous effect on her thought process. Biting back the yes that sprang to her lips, she stiffened in his hold. ‘Why would I want to dance with a man who has sold my family business out from under me?’
The only place Lorenzo wanted the delectable Lucy was under him, and he saw his opportunity. ‘There you are mistaken. The deadline is next week and I have not given the final go-ahead yet. It has occurred to me that if the land is valuable in the middle of a recession it will be a lot more valuable in the future.’
Lucy’s eyes widened in surprise on his hard attractive face. Had he just said what she thought he had? ‘You mean you are actually reconsidering your decision?’ He lifted her hand and placed it against his chest, and she was instantly aware of the beat of his heart beneath her palm. Her own heart began to race. ‘The factory could stay open for a while longer?’ she prompted, a sudden huskiness affecting her vocal cords.
‘It is a possibility to consider,’ Lorenzo murmured, squeezing her hand and drawing her closer, well aware of how he affected her. ‘But, as you said, this is a wedding and a happy occasion, so let us forget about business for now and enjoy the party.’
Against her better judgment, surprisingly Lucy did. Lorenzo was a superb dancer, she realised as they moved around the floor in perfect harmony. His hand on her back was firm and controlling, guiding her effortlessly to the music, and a long leg slid between hers as he spun her around. The only problem was her rapid pulse and the growing warmth spreading from her belly to every sensory nerve in her body. She glanced up at him, and her breath caught at the slumbering passion in the dark eyes that met hers.
She amended her earlier assessment. He certainly wasn’t old. He was a superbly fit, incredibly attractive man, and her mouth went dry as another part of her anatomy shockingly did the opposite. Her lips parted slightly, the tip of her tongue circling them. She wasn’t aware the music had stopped until Lorenzo briefly squeezed the hand he held against his chest and let it go.
He had damn near kissed Lucy on the dance floor, Lorenzo realised with a sense of shock, but she had given him plenty of provocation. Her sexy little body had moved against his with a sensuality that instantly aroused him. The scent of her, fresh and light, had filled his nostrils, and the soft silken smoothness of her skin beneath his palm, the gentle brush of her glorious hair against his hand on her back as they danced, had been a constant caress. Then she’d licked her lips, and he had been in imminent danger of embarrassing himself and her in front of everyone. He needed to get her alone.
Taking a step back, but keeping an arm lightly around her waist, he quipped, ‘I think you deliberately hide your light under a bushel, Lucy—you have great rhythm.’ And he was supremely confident he could induce her into being even more rhythmic in bed. Her fabulous body was made for sex. Looking down into the slightly dazed eyes of the woman curved in the crook of his arm, he added, ‘But now I think a glass of champagne and some fresh air is needed.’
‘Lorenzo?’
He heard his name called, but ignoring it, he attempted to steer Lucy away.
She looked over his shoulder. ‘I think the man at the table behind you is trying to get your attention … ‘ she said, and he silently groaned.
‘Come have a drink with us, Lorenzo!’ the accented voice demanded.
CHAPTER THREE
LORENZO recognised the voice, and good manners dictated it was a request he could not ignore. With his hand on Lucy’s waist, he reluctantly turned.
A moment later Lucy, with Lorenzo’s arm still around her waist and a glass of champagne in her hand, was being introduced to Aldo Lanza, the bridegroom’s uncle from Italy, his wife Teresa, their two sons and their wives, and four grandchildren.
‘Trust Lorenzo to grab the beautiful bridesmaid before anyone else had a chance,’ Aldo said as he kissed Lucy’s hand. Casting a knowing glance at the man holding her, he added, ‘Don’t be fooled by his easy charm—he can be a hard devil when you get to know him.’ And he winked.
‘I already gathered that,’ Lucy said with a grin, enjoying Aldo’s easy banter and putting her glass down on the table. ‘We have met before.’
‘Ah—you have visited Verona, perhaps? A beautiful city, no?’
‘Yes, I have, and the architecture is stunning. The arena is amazing, too, but I did not have much time to look around as I was there on business.’
‘Beautiful and clever. What line of business are you in?’ he asked.
‘Enough questions, Aldo,’ Lorenzo interrupted. ‘I’m sure Lucy does not want to discuss business at a wedding.’ He had introduced Lucy without mentioning her surname, thinking the less Aldo knew the better—because his wife Teresa was the biggest gossip in Verona.
‘No, really—I don’t mind,’ Lucy said swiftly. The arrogance of Lorenzo speaking on her behalf had touched a nerve. Her father and brother, much as she had loved them, had had a habit of doing the same. Which was partly the reason she had decided to move to Cornwall after her father’s death, although Damien had been nothing but encouraging about her setting up her own business in Looe.
‘I own an art and craft gallery here in the town. But I specialise in painting portraits, and was in Verona to deliver a completed commission to my client—a charming Italian lady. You may know her—the Contessa della Scala? In fact, I met Lorenzo in the foyer of her apartment block,’ she said, giving Lorenzo a saccharine-sweet smile, reminding him he was not always as invincible as he thought.
Lorenzo’s dark eyes narrowed angrily on her mocking green. It was the worst thing she could have said, given his recent appearance in the gossip columns. The Lanzas knew Olivia Paglia had an apartment in the same building.
Suddenly Lucy was aware of a pause in the conversation, and she wondered if she had gone too far. Then Aldo said something in Italian to his wife, and Teresa frowned. Looking at Lorenzo, she spoke equally swiftly.
Lucy looked on in amazement as the conversation became animated between the three, with much waving of hands. She barely caught a sentence, but was enthralled by Lorenzo’s deep husky voice—and then she heard Aldo repeat the words ‘Contessa della Scala’ and all eyes turned on her.
‘You know the Contessa della Scala well? ‘ Teresa asked in English.
‘I
