hint of musky arousal in his nostrils? The quiver of anticipation in the air?
Her breasts rose with her rapid breathing, almost but not quite brushing against him. The woman staring back defiantly was no modest, unprotected innocent.
The thought pulled him up. He’d almost forgotten this was about her, not him.
She wasn’t as unaffected as she pretended. He saw the fine tremor running under her skin. Her tongue flicked out to swipe her lips and he bit back a smile. For it wasn’t a consciously slow, seductive movement but sure evidence her mouth had dried. Nerves or arousal?
Domenico leaned close, letting the heat of her body drench him. Her lashes flickered and her trembling pulse accelerated. His quickened too.
Holding her gaze, he reached out and snagged her belt. Instantly she stiffened, but she didn’t retreat.
Was that a challenge in her eyes?
Her breath was a warm, sweet sigh against his chin as he tugged the bow undone, loosening the fabric around her.
Domenico bent his head and her pursed lips softened. Her eyes widened and something flickered there. Fear or anticipation?
‘My office in an hour. You’ll be less easily distracted if you’re fully dressed.’
He straightened, spun on his heel and left her.
* * *
Lucy’s breath came in great gulps. Her heart pumped so hard she thought it might jump out of her ribcage.
Domenico Volpe strolled back to the villa with an easy, loose-limbed grace that made her want to hurl something at his broad back. In dark trousers and an open-necked shirt he was the picture of elegant ease. He looked casual, sexy, utterly unaffected by the charge of erotic energy that hammered through her.
She shivered despite the molten heat inside. Her nipples were tight buds of need and she was wet between the legs. Because of the way he’d looked at her. Just looked!
How was that possible?
She shook her head, torn between shock, fury and shame. Her body betrayed her. And he knew it.
She’d read triumph in his eyes when he’d undone her belt. Had he sensed the voluptuous shiver she couldn’t suppress? The tension in her body that had as much to do with fighting her traitorous desire as standing up to him?
With fumbling hands she pulled the wrap tight, as if it made any difference now. He didn’t even look back. He was so confident he’d made his point.
That she was vulnerable to him. That she...desired him.
The realisation blasted Lucy’s ragged confidence. She wanted to pretend it wasn’t true. But hiding would get her nowhere. She had to face it.
Yet surely the fledgling attraction she’d once felt for him was dead, crushed by his cruel assumption of her guilt. She assured herself this wasn’t about Domenico Volpe. It was what he represented—hot animal sex. Despite his shuttered gaze and his insultingly casual contempt, there was no mistaking the virile male beneath the expensive clothes.
Who wouldn’t be affected by such a potently masculine man?
Lucy had been celibate so long, so cut off from attractive men. This was her body’s way of reminding her she was female, that was all.
She shoved aside the fact that she’d felt nothing like this around Chiara’s Uncle Rocco.
Maybe her distrust of Domenico Volpe, the fact that her emotions were engaged because of the past, gave a piquancy to her response.
Whatever it was, she had no intention of succumbing to weakness. As he’d soon learn.
* * *
He was seated at an enormous desk when she entered his study. Of course he’d take the position of power. Lucy had dealt with enough officials to recognise the tactic.
He was like the rest. Predictable.
He turned from the computer to survey her, taking in her denim skirt and the blue shirt that matched her eyes. It was the nicest one she owned and had always made her feel confident. Now it was years out of date and a snug fit around the bust but it was the best she could do.
His appraising glance told her he wasn’t impressed. Or was he recalling her standing, spellbound, as she let him undo her robe? The idea stiffened her resolve and she crossed the room, leaving the door open.
‘You had business to discuss?’ She sat in the chair before his desk and crossed her legs in a show of nonchalance.
He seemed riveted to the movement and she suppressed a surge of satisfaction. So, he wasn’t as remote as he appeared. The knowledge gave her a sliver of hope.
‘Yes.’ He cleared his throat. ‘I have a proposition for you.’
‘Really? I’d have thought I was the last woman you’d ever proposition, Signor Volpe.’
His gaze darted to her face and she read simmering anger there. She could deal with anger. She clung to her own like a lifeline. It was preferable to the other feelings he evoked.
‘Do tell,’ she purred. ‘I’m all ears.’
She had to bite back a smile when a frown furrowed his brow. She liked the fact that she pricked his self-possession. It wasn’t fair that even scowling he still looked lethally gorgeous. Not that she cared.
‘You want privacy and peace from the press. I want you out of the limelight. Our interests coincide.’
‘So?’
‘So I’d like to make the situation permanent.’
It was Lucy’s turn to frown. ‘I don’t understand.’
He pushed a typed document towards her. ‘Read that and you will. I’ve had it drawn up in English.’
‘How considerate.’ Perhaps he thought her Italian, learned behind bars, was inadequate. He had no idea the hours she’d spent poring over Italian legal documents.
She slid the paper towards her. It was a contract. She turned the page, heart racing as she read what he planned. She could barely believe it.
Finally she sat back. ‘You really are desperate to keep me quiet.’
His dark eyes gleamed. ‘Hardly desperate.’
‘No? A lot of people would be fascinated to know how much you’re offering to stop me talking.’
His look turned baleful. His voice when it came was a lethal whisper scudding through the silence. ‘Is that a threat?’
‘No threat, Signor Volpe. An observation.’
His eyes pinioned her and her breathing grew shallow. But she refused to be intimidated.
‘I want peace for my family.’ Yet his eyes didn’t plead,
