Goodness knew, Giles had been wealthy enough—and look how disastrously that marriage had turned out!
‘And you, Robin?’ Cesare placed his untouched glass of whisky down on a side table before standing up, making her aware of his impeccably cut dark business suit, which was complemented by a white silk shirt and neatly knotted grey tie. ‘What is important to you as regards suitability in a husband?’ he encouraged, two long strides having brought him to stand directly in front of her.
Robin felt slightly overpowered by his proximity as she looked up into that darkly handsome face, and those black eyes were relentless as he easily held her gaze.
She swallowed hard. He was standing so close to her now she could feel the warmth of his body. She knew the power beneath that white silk shirt—had already touched and caressed his muscled strength yesterday.
She shook her head. ‘The question hardly applies between us, does it, Cesare?’ she responded.
‘No?’ He reached up to curve his hand about her throat, his thumb resting against the nerve pulsing in the hollow at its base.
‘You are becoming aroused again, Robin,’ he murmured with satisfaction.
‘I—’
‘Your pulse is racing.’ He ignored her protest, his dark gaze heated on her parted lips as his thumb moved caressingly against her jaw. ‘Your nipples are taut against your dress,’ he observed approvingly, his eyes having lowered to her thrusting breasts before slowly returning to her mouth. ‘You want me to kiss you,’ he said, and his thumb moved to part her lips and his mouth took possession of hers.
She did want him to kiss her. Robin couldn’t deny it, even as her body curved into his, her arms moving up about his shoulders and her fingers becoming entangled in the dark thickness of his hair.
She had no explanation for the madness she knew in this man’s arms—no will to fight it either, as Cesare slowly drew her bottom lip into his mouth, his tongue caressing its inner sensitivity as warmth spread through her whole body. Her groan was one of hunger as his tongue thrust fully into her mouth.
‘Perhaps I should come back later …?’
Robin wrenched her mouth from Cesare’s at the first sound of her father’s voice, giving Cesare a slightly accusing look as she wondered if he hadn’t kissed her with the sole intention of being caught in the act.
She turned away from his unreadable expression. ‘Don’t be silly, Daddy,’ she dismissed teasingly as she crossed the room to her father on legs that shook slightly, linking her arm with his and drawing him farther into the room. ‘I don’t need to introduce the two of you, do I?’ she asked lightly.
‘Gambrelli,’ her father said curtly, and he held out his hand.
‘Ingram,’ Cesare answered just as curtly, as he briefly shook the older man’s hand, impatient with the interruption—although in truth, holding Robin in his arms, kissing her, he had forgotten that her father was expected to make an appearance, had forgotten where they were!
Robin gave a husky laugh. ‘Now, I want the two of you to return to your corners and when the bell goes come out fighting!’
Charles Ingram ignored her levity as his stare remained locked on Cesare’s.
It was a silent battle of wills, Cesare acknowledged, with grudging admiration for this man who was Robin’s father.
But he had also been the father of Simon Ingram—the man Cesare held responsible for Carla’s death!
His mouth hardened. ‘I do not think your father appreciates your humour, Robin,’ he reproved tersely.
‘And you?’ She looked up to taunt him. ‘Do you appreciate my humour, Cesare?’
He gave Charles Ingram one last narrow-eyed look before turning his attention to Robin, deliberately softening his expression as he saw the light of challenge in her eyes, her cheeks slightly flushed. With temper rather than arousal, he thought.
He smiled slightly. ‘I, of course, appreciate everything about you, Robin,’ he drawled mockingly.
That flush deepened in her cheeks. ‘Well, of course you do,’ she replied stiffly. ‘Daddy, Cesare has come here this evening so that we can all sit down cosily together and discuss our wedding plans,’ she explained. ‘When is the wedding to be, Cesare?’ she prompted, her voice brittle.
Cesare saw the way Charles Ingram’s frown deepened, knowing as he did so that Robin was coming perilously close to revealing the tension between the two of them. It did not bother him personally, but he had thought the pretence important to Robin.
What had he done to anger Robin so much that she was in danger of revealing the disharmony between them when she had already assured him she wanted to keep it from her father?
‘That is, of course, for you to decide, Robin,’ he replied smoothly.
‘Is it?’ she scorned, with that same recklessness.
Cesare’s mouth tightened. ‘As long as it is within the next few weeks, yes.’
‘The next few weeks?’ Charles Ingram was the one to exclaim as he turned to look at his daughter incredulously.
Cesare gave an abrupt inclination of his head.
That was news to Robin. But why should it be? Cesare had told her this morning that he was tired of the delay.
She was filled with conflicting emotions at the thought of them being married so soon. Positive feelings because it seemed she was to become Marco’s mother in a matter of days. And uncertainty because it also meant she would become Cesare’s wife at the same time—a wife he had nothing but contempt for.
Well … that wasn’t quite true. Cesare obviously felt desire for her too.
As she desired him.
But at the moment she was angry with him for what she perceived as his manipulation of her physical response to him just now—timed so that her father had walked in on the two of them obviously in a passionate clinch. She didn’t at all like the way Cesare had used her response to him against her.
‘This is preposterous,’ her father exclaimed. ‘The two of you have known each other only a matter of days—’
‘Sometimes that is all it takes,’ Cesare answered him quietly.
‘Robin …?’ Her father appealed to her agitatedly.
Her heart ached at the bewilderment she could see in his face. She knew that he was concerned for her, but at the same time was aware there was little she could say that would alleviate his concern. Not without telling him the truth. And she had no intention of doing that.
‘Sometimes that’s all it takes, Daddy.’ She sadly repeated Cesare’s words.
‘But—’
‘I understand your concerns, Charles,’ Cesare told the older man smoothly. ‘But Robin is a grown woman—certainly
