Ruthlessly Bedded, Forcibly Wedded. Эбби Грин
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‘Tell me about yourself, Cara.’
He was doing it again, that subtle inflection, changing the pronunciation of her name. Something about his expression caught her for a moment, some sense of familiarity or déjà vu, but she couldn’t catch it. She was so tempted to do exactly what Rob had advocated—lose herself a little, allow this stranger to help her forget her pain and sorrow.
There would be time for that in spades when she went home and tried to start over. At the thought of that, the threat from last night crashed back into her head. For a second she almost felt overwhelmed with it all, and had to struggle valiantly to bury the fear again. But just for now, surely she could pretend with this man that everything was okay—couldn’t she?
Enzo’s eyebrows rose. ‘You did a degree in business and accountancy?’
Cara nodded, still inordinately proud of the degree she’d finally obtained in recent weeks after a long, hard slog, not sure why he sounded so incredulous. Perhaps he was one of these men who didn’t believe that women should get qualifications and work? Yet he didn’t seem like that kind of man. The champagne bottle stood half empty. She had a delightfully light feeling in her head. She felt as if she’d been living in some sort of haze all her life and now everything was crystal-clear. Despite the fact that she’d only just met Enzo, she’d found him easy to talk to—and that was a revelation when she’d never done this with anyone before.
‘But you didn’t go to college?’
Cara frowned, she’d been intent on Enzo’s mouth and now she blushed—which she seemed to be doing every two minutes in his company. ‘Did I say that?’ That was funny. She couldn’t remember telling him about studying from home.
‘You’re right, I didn’t.’ She was wondering how they’d got onto this subject when a beep came from nearby. He excused himself and reached into the pocket of the jacket beside him to pull out his phone, answering the incoming call with an apologetic smile, saying something about an ill father. Cara shooed away his apology and signalled that she would leave, to give him privacy, but his hand snaked out and caught her wrist, pulling her back.
As he spoke in rapid Italian he kept his eyes on hers, and his thumb started moving in little circles on the underside of her wrist. Cara had to stop herself from groaning out loud. Did the man have any idea what he was doing to her? But she couldn’t take her eyes away from his either. As she watched, a hard expression came into them. His hand tightened on hers fractionally, but he didn’t stop that seductive motion with his thumb. Cara knew she could have pulled away if she’d wanted to, but for the life of her she couldn’t. Was that giving him some tacit signal? To her shame, she knew that she hoped it was. What was this madness?
He ended his conversation and slipped the phone back into his jacket. He let go of her hand, dropping it abruptly, almost as if he regretted holding it. Cara’s heart went out to him as she guessed it must have to do with his father, and she asked hesitantly, ‘Is everything okay?’
She saw his jaw clench slightly. He seemed to be wrestling with something. He looked at her then, and the intensity in his eyes pinned her to the spot. And then he said, ‘It’s time to get out of here.’
There was an unmistakable edge to his voice this time, and for a second Cara fooled herself into thinking that he’d said it in such a way as to mean for them both to get out of there. And then mortification raced through her. Why on earth would a man like him have meant that? He only meant that he had to leave. And so did she.
But, disturbingly, a shaft of pain went through her. She forced herself to say lightly, as she avoided his eye and gathered her things, ‘I have a busy day tomorrow. I’d better go too. Thanks for the drinks.’
Enzo had paid already, brushing aside her attempt to give him something. It was somewhat of a relief, even though she hated being paid for, as in reality she barely had enough in her purse to get her home. Rob had left before he’d had a chance to give her her tips, and it would be a couple of weeks before she got her final cheque.
She let Enzo guide her out through the now busy VIP area and back through the club. Cara shivered slightly. She wasn’t sorry to be saying goodbye to the place. It was Barney the main doorman’s night off, and his replacement was new, so she just said a perfunctory goodnight as they left.
In seconds the club was behind them and they were out in the darkness and the cool early spring air. It was almost midnight. Cara shivered lightly as Enzo helped her into her coat. He caught her long hair and pulled it free, his hands brushing against her bare neck. Cara’s insides melted. It felt like the most intimate gesture. Just then her name was called by someone in the queue, and Enzo dropped his hands, leaving her feeling ridiculously bereft. She looked to see an actress waving energetically. She was a regular. Cara waved back half-heartedly and watched as she disappeared into the club with her entourage, sending up silent thanks that she’d never have to help carry her out again.
‘A friend of yours?’
Cara turned to face Enzo looking up. Her heart was beating so hard she felt constricted. She smiled awkwardly. ‘Not exactly.’ She stepped back and away, finding it harder than she cared to admit to walk away from him. ‘Look, thanks for everything—and the drinks… It was nice talking to you.’
With hands stuck deep in his pockets he just looked down at her. ‘Do you really want to go?’
Cara’s brain froze. Her heart tripped. ‘What did you say?’
‘Come back to my hotel with me.’
It was shocking, and it wasn’t a question. It was an imperative. A calling that set her blood racing and heart beating fast again. Lord knew she wasn’t ready for this, on this week of all weeks. Who was she kidding? She wouldn’t be ready for a man as virile as Enzo in a million years. And yet even as she thought that, newly awakened awareness flooded her body, making her believe that he was the only man she could make love to in the world.
Confused by how strong this feeling was, she backed away, shaking her head. ‘I’m sorry, I don’t—’ Do that sort of thing because I’ve never done it before. Her voice failed and the words resounded in her head. She shook her head again. No matter what her body might be saying, her head was warning her to run fast in the opposite direction.
Enzo stood under the streetlight, his shoulders huge, his frame lean and awe-inspiring, his face dark and sinful. Everything about him was sinful. Rob’s words came back to Cara. Could this man make her forget? For one night? Even as she was thinking this, her thoughts and belly in turmoil at what she was walking away from, he shrugged nonchalantly and stepped back too. The moment was gone. Of course he wouldn’t insist. It had been a complete mystery to her what he had seen in her at all in the first place. However, disappointment was crushing, mocking her.
‘Allora, buonanotte, Cara.’
Her tongue seemed to cleave to the roof of her mouth as she realised that she’d never in her life see this man again. And she suddenly wondered desperately how it would feel to kiss him. But she reiterated to herself sternly that this was the realm of fantasy. He was not in her league and she wouldn’t even want him to be. Didn’t she despise the kind of men who went into that club? And yet, prompted a voice, didn’t you think he was different?
As if in accord with the rebellious voice, her newly awakened body