you don’t want your driver to see us?’
Xaviero clicked his tongue. How very mundane of her—but then what could he expect? She was a very ordinary woman. Impatiently, he shook his head. ‘You think I would leave that to chance?’ he mocked. ‘The back of the car is completely soundproofed so the driver hears nothing. At the touch of a button, blinds will float down over all the windows, concealing us from the prying eyes of the outside world. Why, I could make love to you now and nobody but us would know.’
‘Oh,’ said Cathy, aware of an aching feeling of disappointment.
His impatience fled as he registered her unashamed frustration. ‘Yes, I know. You want it and I want it, but it will be a rushed encounter—and what is more, we will both arrive at the club in a state of disarray which will not be particularly good for my reputation.’
And what about mine? Cathy wanted to ask. ‘Oh, I see.’
‘No, I don’t think you do.’ He reached over to take a silken lock of hair between thumb and forefinger and twisted it. ‘The sexual appetite is like any other, Cathy—its needs are many and must be tempered accordingly. Sometimes—like what happened between us today—the hunger is fierce and urgent and must be instantly assuaged. And at other times, well—the anticipation of the feast to come sharpens the taste buds and heightens the pleasure.’ His eyes gleamed. ‘This evening may be tedious—as so many of these functions are—but rather than sinking into the torpor of that tedium, I shall instead allow my senses to tingle with the thought of just what I am going to do with you later.’
Cathy’s mouth dried—partly with desire and partly with shock as she registered his arrogant statement. Just what I am going to do with you later. Why, he made her sound so malleable! ‘That’s if I let you,’ she retorted.
Xaviero tensed and then gave a slow smile. ‘Oh, you’ll let me,’ he vowed softly. ‘Now come over here and kiss me, little chambermaid.’
‘But I thought—’
‘Mistresses aren’t required to think—their talents are of a far more practical nature,’ he amended silkily. ‘So come over here. Now. And kiss me.’
For a moment Cathy sat there. His words made her feel more like a doll than a person and she suddenly realised that this man could easily hurt her. So wouldn’t it be sensible to get out now—before it was too late? She could feel his eyes on her—that distinctive golden gaze raking over her. He was sprawled back against the seat, eyeing her with lazy amusement as if sensing her inner struggle.
So did he feel triumph over the way she lost the battle she had half-heartedly been fighting? Leaning over him instead and eagerly pressing her lips to his—not caring about pride or conscience or reputation or getting hurt. Not caring about anything—other than the urgent need to find herself tightly in his arms once more.
She heard him give a little murmur of approval as he drew her against him, before she felt him take control—expertly coaxing her lips open and letting his tongue slide inside her mouth.
Cathy gasped as, in an instant, all those new feelings he had ignited earlier came flooding back in a thick, sweet wave and she clung to his broad shoulders as if she could never bear to let him go. Pressing her body closer, she heard his shuddered little groan and that felt like some kind of small victory.
But if it was Cathy who initiated the kiss, it was Xaviero who demonstrated his mastery by terminating it, gently prising her fingers from his shoulders and placing them firmly in her lap, leaving her breathless and aching as she stared up at him in mute disappointment.
‘You must learn to control your appetite, my eager young pupil,’ he chided softly, though he felt the wild thunder of his heart as he steadied his breath. ‘There is a time and a place for greed, and that time is not now.’
In an effort to distract himself, Xaviero turned to glance out of the window as the car passed through wide gates and up a long gravelled drive. At its end stood an imposing brightly lit and colonnaded white house with a whole fleet of top-of-the-range cars and several chauffeurs standing in a little huddle beside them. He saw one of them glance up and spot the car approaching and it was as if they were all suddenly galvanised into action. Inside the illuminated building he could see figures beginning to hurry around and mentally he prepared to deliver the image of himself the public always expected.
‘We’re here,’ he said, raking his fingers back through his hair. ‘And they’ve seen us.’
Cathy glanced at the sudden cool mask which had replaced the dark passion on his face. ‘You don’t sound very…keen.’
He should have been irritated by her intrusive observation—but the appeal in her wide blue eyes meant that he was momentarily disarmed. Couldn’t he relax his guard for once, just a little? This little chambermaid would never make the error of attaching any significance to any confidences he might share with her—and if she tried, he would merely point out her error so that she would not repeat it. ‘I’d much rather be making love to you,’he admitted softly.
And that one murmured comment, along with the sizzling golden look which accompanied it, was enough to make Cathy feel as if she were walking on air as the car door was opened for them.
‘And so would I,’ she whispered shyly, but her momentary pleasure was eclipsed by nerves as she saw the glamorous women who were assembling to meet them. They were decked in glittering jewels, their skin faintly tanned, pampered and massaged—she felt anxiety flood through her. How could she possibly compete in her cheap little chain-store dress when they all looked like expensive birds of paradise?
Uncomfortably, Cathy followed Xaviero into the banqueting hall, where every table setting seemed to contain a whole canteen of cutlery—but at least she’d helped out at enough formal banquets at the hotel to know which was the correct knife and fork to use.
Picking at her meal, Cathy noticed that everyone waited until Xaviero had begun to eat before they, too, followed suit. How wearing that must get, she thought. She found herself seated in between two very wealthy landowners who wouldn’t have given her a second glance if she’d been changing their duvet cover.
But Xaviero had, hadn’t he?
Cathy swallowed. He might be arrogant, and proud. He might have taken her to bed and she might have foolishly let him—but nothing could detract from the fact that he had wanted her, just the way she was. And she had wanted him. In fact, if only he really were that man in denim and not a prince, then they wouldn’t have to be sitting here, having to endure these stilted conversations. They could have been snuggled up under their own duvet—making love and maybe making some kind of future together.
‘I’m sure I’ve seen you somewhere before, Cathy,’ one of the landowners was saying to her.
Cathy felt her heart begin to pound with trepidation. ‘I… I don’t think so—’
‘Good heavens—you’re not…’ The man pushed his scarlet face closer and frowned. ‘You don’t by any chance work at Rupert Sanderson’s hotel, do you?’
Cathy froze and looked across the table in alarm—to find a pair of curious golden eyes fixed on her. Obviously Xaviero had heard every word and was watching her, waiting to hear what she would say.
For one tempting moment she thought about the reaction she’d get if she told the truth. That she was
