a man would enjoy curling a hand about as he—
‘More wine?’ Dmitri prompted gruffly, and he moved to collect the bottle from the worktop, his expression strained as he took the spoons and forks from the drawer beside the oven.
‘Er—yes. Thanks.’ Lily straightened slowly, biting her lip as she carried the bowl of garlic bread over to the table, obviously slightly confused at the sudden change in his tone. ‘Are you sure you don’t mind eating down here?’ She hesitated about sitting down on the chair Dmitri had pulled back for her.
No—in light of his previous thoughts about her bottom he wasn’t at all sure about continuing to remain in the informal intimacy of the kitchen! His only concern at the moment should be ensuring Claudia’s safe return. Certainly not imagining how he would enjoy clasping Lily’s bottom as he took her on the dining table!
‘Very sure,’ he clipped, pushing her chair in as she finally sat down, then moving around the table to occupy the chair opposite as he felt himself drawn to the now-familiar apple-and-cinnamon scents of her hair. Only to look up and find himself the focus her huge and puzzled blue eyes …
Beautiful eyes, Dmitri conceded. In fact, she was beautiful all over—from her silver-blond hair to the creamy smoothness of her pale skin. And as for the sensual allure of the pouting fullness of her lips—
Again, that was quite enough of that, he cautioned himself determinedly. Being kept here against her will as she was, Lily had absolutely no reason to like or trust him without him adding another layer to that distrust by allowing his increasing physical awareness of her to become an issue.
‘Eat,’ he instructed tersely, and he placed a large serving of pasta into her bowl before serving himself.
Lily raised mocking brows. ‘Does that tone of voice usually work for you?’
Dmitri closed his eyes briefly in self-disgust, before looking across the table at her. ‘I apologise. Circumstances are such that I am not … my usual self today.’
‘And is your usual self better or worse than the self you are today?’ she asked curiously.
‘I would hope that he is at least more polite than I was just now,’ he admitted ruefully.
‘In that case, perhaps you would like to try again?’ she suggested sweetly.
Dmitri relaxed back in his chair. ‘Please eat before the food gets cold, Lily.’
‘Much better,’ she said with approval, and she picked up her fork to twine some of the spaghetti onto its tines before twirling it round. Only to have it fall off again before she could get it to her mouth. ‘Damn,’ she muttered, and tried again.
He chuckled softly. ‘You do it like this.’ He sat forward to pick up his fork and his spoon to demonstrate how the spoon should be placed on the end of the tines of the fork to keep the pasta in place.
‘See?’ He popped the pasta into his mouth.
Lily saw just fine—in fact, her gaze had been transfixed on his sensually wicked mouth the whole time. She just wasn’t having any success in doing it herself, and forkful after forkful of the slippery pasta fell back into the bowl before making it as far as her mouth. But she was not about to give in and simply chop the spaghetti up and use her spoon to eat it, as she had so often seen other English people do.
‘I could just starve to death with my current success rate!’ she muttered, as yet another forkful of pasta fell back into the bowl. ‘Maybe I should stick to the garlic bread!’ She picked up a slice and took a healthy bite.
‘Here—let me show you how.’ He was still chuckling as he stood up to come round to her side of the table and bend over beside her, taking the spoon and fork from her unresisting fingers.
Mistake, Lily realised, tensing as every nerve ending in her body suddenly went on alert at his close proximity. Nor did it help that he looked so much younger, so much more approachable and so much more attractive, when he laughed. Almost boyishly handsome, in fact. Except there was absolutely nothing in the least boyish about Dmitri Scarletti!
A fact she was only too aware of now, as he stood far too close to her, the warm line of his arm brushing lightly against her shoulder, the loose white shirt falling forward and allowing her to see clearly the firm muscles of his chest and stomach, and the dark hair that lightly covered the whole of his chest before disappearing in a tantalising vee beneath the waistband of his jeans.
He smelled really good too—of spicy aftershave and hot, earthy male.
Oh, good Lord!
‘Open your mouth, Lily,’ he encouraged.
She raised startled lids. And then wished she hadn’t as she realised his face was on a level with her own as he bent down beside her. Those pale green eyes were darkening to emerald as she looked at him, his breath a warm caress as she ran her tongue nervously across her slightly parted lips.
Her mesmerised gaze was transfixed on Dmitri’s lips as he huskily repeated his earlier request. ‘Open your mouth.’ Lily couldn’t drag her gaze away from his as her lips slowly parted—only to have all the tastebuds in her mouth explode in pleasure as he neatly placed a forkful of the pasta carbonara onto her tongue.
‘Oh, my God!’ she breathed shakily once she was able to talk at all. ‘That is so good!’ She opened her eyes to look up at him appreciatively. ‘You should open your own restaurant—no, of course you couldn’t do that.’ Lily grimaced as she immediately realised how ridiculous it was even to suggest that Count Scarletti become the chef of his own restaurant.
Dmitri had been held completely transfixed by the expression of pure ecstasy on her face as she ate the forkful of pasta, his shaft hardening as he was instantly bombarded by thoughts of how she would look exactly that same way in the throes of physical pleasure. Eyes closed. Throat arched. A dreamy smile upon her lips as she became completely lost to that ecstasy …
His gaze was still riveted on those slightly parted lips as she breathed softly, and his own breath caught in his throat as the pink moistness of her tongue flicked out to lick a tiny smear of the carbonara sauce from her bottom lip.
Dmitri groaned softly in his throat as the throb of his shaft became almost painful as it grew harder, more swollen, with each rapid beat of his heart. As he imagined his own tongue flicking across the pouting sensuality of Lily’s mouth. Licking. Tasting.
‘I think I can manage on my own now, thank you, Dmitri.’
Lily’s voice shattered those disturbingly sensuous images. He placed the fork and spoon down in her bowl and moved quickly round to the other side of the table, resuming his own seat. Before Lily could become aware of the throbbing evidence of his very obvious arousal.
This had never happened to him before, Dmitri realised with a frown. This sudden and complete awareness of a woman. And not just any woman, but one specific woman.
Oh, his relationships had been numerous over the years—brief, businesslike arrangements for the main part, that satisfied the woman’s physical requirements as well as his own, while at the same time demanding nothing from him except the occasional expensive bauble as an added sign of his interest.
Dmitri had only known Lily a matter of hours, but he already knew her well enough
