an arrogant inclination of his head. ‘In that case I suggest we begin the pretence this evening, with your not returning to your father’s home as expected. It will tell him, without any word having to be spoken between the two of you, that you have taken a lover.’
Robin sat back in her chair to look at him admiringly. ‘Touché, Cesare,’ she finally admitted ruefully. ‘No one could ever accuse you of losing control of a situation, could they?’ she added wryly.
Losing control in any situation was never in Cesare’s plans.
He had taken many women to his bed, and considered himself a considerate as well as attentive lover for as long as his interest lasted. But all his relationships had been completely under his control. His emotions, other than desire, had never been engaged.
And, no matter what he might decide to pretend for the sake of her father, they would not be with Robin, either.
Love made fools of people—as it had his father and Carla. It was a trap that Cesare never intended falling into.
He shrugged. ‘I suggest that once we have eaten you call your father and inform him you will not be returning tonight.’
At which time, as Cesare meant him to do, Robin knew her father would draw his own conclusion.
Charles would probably be pleased with the development too.
He had made no secret of his concern about the way she had become almost reclusive since her separation and divorce, burying herself in her work at Ingram Publishing and avoiding a social life, and would probably view any sign of her being involved with a man as a good thing, rather than something he should be concerned about.
Until he learnt that Cesare Gambrelli was the man she was involved with, of course—when his reaction would probably be completely the opposite!
But she would deal with that later. For now she had to concentrate on getting through this evening, on talking to her father on the phone before staying the night in one of the many bedrooms in this penthouse suite of the Gambrelli Hotel—Unless.
She looked across at Cesare with accusingly suspicious eyes. ‘I have no intention of sharing your bedroom tonight, Cesare!’ she told him determinedly.
He raised his dark brows calmly. ‘I did not ask you to.’
‘I’m quickly learning that you don’t ask—you just take!’
Cesare eyed her mockingly, enjoying this angrily rebellious Robin much more than the icy socialite who had arrived at his suite a short time ago. ‘I can assure you I do not intend for you to share my bedroom tonight,’ he drawled.
She didn’t look at all convinced by his reassurance. As she should not. His assurance that she wouldn’t share his bedroom did not mean that he didn’t intend to share hers …
‘Come, Robin,’ he encouraged briskly as he picked up the fork beside his plate. ‘Let us eat our food and talk of more general things. Was the charity dinner a success last weekend?’
She still felt suspicious as she picked up her own fork. ‘Very much so,’ she finally confirmed. ‘In fact, one anonymous benefactor—who coincidentally couldn’t stay for the dinner—left us a donation of fifty thousand pounds,’ she explained, with a pointed look in his direction.
Cesare smiled. ‘It was for a good cause.’
She nodded. ‘Disabled children.’
Cesare’s mouth tightened. ‘You think me as uncharitable as your father does?’ he rasped.
Robin wasn’t really sure what she thought of this man any more. He was obviously the anonymous donor, and his love for Marco was unquestionable, and yet for reasons of retribution he was also capable of forcing a woman he didn’t love, who didn’t love him, to marry him. He was an enigma.
One that held an inexplicable fascination for her.
She had certainly found herself thinking about him more than she should the last few days!
‘Only to people called Ingram,’ she came back challengingly.
‘Then it is as well that your name will soon become Gambrelli, is it not?’
She looked across at him for several seconds before sighing. ‘As you said, Cesare, let’s eat,’ she replied, and she avoided meeting his eyes.
He remained very still and silent for several long, tense seconds, Robin only breathing comfortably again when he finally joined her in eating.
‘You do not like oysters?’ he asked several minutes later, as Robin pushed her plate away without even attempting to touch the two succulent shellfish that remained on the platter.
Robin gave him a knowing look. ‘If you think they’ll do you any good, you’re quite welcome to them!’ she came back tartly, well aware of the aphrodisiacal reputation oysters possessed.
‘Oh, I think two will be quite enough for one night,’ he returned sardonically.
Well, that attempt at mockery had backfired on her, hadn’t it? Robin acknowledged to herself, as Cesare stood up to remove their plates, standing close beside her as he did so, his warm proximity making her shiver slightly.
Perhaps staying here tonight wasn’t such a good idea …
After all, just because she was going to tell her father she was staying out tonight it didn’t mean it actually had to be here, in Cesare Gambrelli’s hotel suite, did it? Of course it didn’t.
‘Would you like me to do that?’ she offered as she looked across to where Cesare was taking the serving dishes containing their main course from the trolley, feeling more confident now she had made the decision to leave.
‘Why not?’ He straightened as she stood up to join him beside the trolley. ‘The sooner you become accustomed to your wifely duties the better, hmm?’ he added provokingly.
There was one ‘wifely duty’ she knew she would never become accustomed to!
There was no way she would ever be comfortable as this man’s lover.
Oh, physically she wanted Cesare; there was no way she could deny that after the way she responded to his slightest touch. But she had always believed that physical pleasure should be accompanied by love. She had been a virgin on her wedding night, and had taken no other lovers since her marriage ended, either.
‘Perhaps,’ she began slowly, as she served thinly sliced beef fillets and vegetables onto their plates, a large portion for Cesare, a much smaller one for herself, ‘it’s time we discussed the terms of this as yet mythical marriage.?’ She placed the plates on the table in front of them before sitting down again.
‘I have already agreed to satisfy your father’s … sensibilities concerning a marriage between the two of us,’ Cesare replied. ‘I do not think you are in any position to dictate any further terms to me, Robin.’ Though he admired her nerve, he had absolutely no sympathy for her sentiment.
‘Nevertheless,’ she told him firmly, ‘if I do agree to marry you—and it’s still a big if—then I also intend
