‘I hope that I am not treading on anyone’s toes.’ He pulled a seat out for her as the bartender brought the champagne bucket and glasses. Marco shook his head at him when he attempted to pour it.
Imogen frowned at him. ‘Anyone’s toes?’
He glanced at her left hand. No wedding ring. ‘Surely a woman as beautiful as you must have a fiancé or boyfriend at home in London?’
* * *
Imogen blinked back the sharp stab of betrayal at the mention of a fiancé, but it wasn’t this man’s fault that Gavin had walked out on her. The handsome and very charming Marco had no way of knowing Gavin had turned his back on her, on everything, just one week before she should have walked down the aisle with him. Or that Gavin had only recently married another woman after claiming marriage wasn’t for him and that he’d only gone along with it because their families had pushed them into it.
‘No boyfriend and no fiancé,’ she said as lightly as she could, watching him expertly pour the champagne.
The light shone in his dark hair and his tanned complexion hinted at a Mediterranean heritage. He looked up at her and his inky black eyes met hers and she blushed, caught out in the act of appraising him.
He handed her a glass of champagne and she knew without doubt this was a man who moved in very different circles to the normal nine-to-five kind of life she led. Everything about him screamed wealth and power. He was completely out of her league. Imogen had no idea why she was doing this, why she’d gone along with Julie’s suggestion and allowed herself to get so carried away with the fantasy of the island they had unexpectedly been sent to as part of their job.
She also had no idea why she, of all the women here tonight, was sitting at a romantic and very secluded table with the sexiest man in the bar. His tall, athletic body had stood out among all the other wealthy men in the restaurant as soon as she and Julie had arrived, but she’d kept her gaze averted. Men usually preferred Julie’s tall, slender figure to her short and far curvier one. Inwardly she berated herself. Gavin might have knocked her confidence, but she wasn’t going to allow him to send her back to the agony of bullying taunts from her schooldays.
She took the glass he offered her and knew this whole set-up was Julie’s doing. It had been her idea to use their time on this luxurious island to escape their dreary lives. If their employer, Bespoke Luxury Travel, had seen fit to send them to Silviano Leisure Group’s tropical island to sample the kind of luxury holidays the company could offer their clients, Julie had insisted they were going to live like those wealthy clients and sample everything—to the full.
Imogen just hadn’t expected a man like Marco to be part of that plan. He was so different from any man she’d met, so very focused on what he wanted, which right now she was in no doubt was her. Acting the flirty and vivacious blonde wasn’t her at all, but Julie’s suggestion that she needed a wild, passionate affair to finally move on from Gavin’s betrayal of last year had taken root in her mind. Imogen was once more happy and confident with her petite and curvy figure and wanted to prove as much to Julie.
No wonder Julie had practically pushed her at Marco. He was just the kind of man she’d label as a playboy: wealthy, handsome and lethally charming. Imogen smiled secretively to herself. She’d play the game, take up the challenge Julie had thrown her. This week she was going to be a very different Imogen than usual and make the most of tonight. Even if it was only for a few hours, she would live for this moment, as if nothing or no one else mattered. This was her moment and what better person to share it with than a man like Marco?
‘I’m surprised a beautiful woman like you is alone tonight, but I will admit to being happy about it.’ Marco’s deep, sexy voice pulled her well and truly back from her thoughts.
Just as it had the moment he’d come over to her, Imogen’s heart skipped a beat and a host of butterflies took flight in her tummy. Her head was light already and she’d barely drunk any champagne. Could she really be an emotionally detached seductress? Could she really be all a man like Marco wanted?
‘So am I.’ She tried to remember all that Julie had said to her on the flight out. All the advice about forgetting ‘that scum who left you virtually at the altar’ and living again. Julie had made her promise that the next time a man showed an interest in her she would forget the past and live only for the moment. No thoughts of the future and certainly no thoughts of the only other man she’d ever had a relationship with.
She smiled at the memory of how insistent Julie had been. She wouldn’t be surprised if Julie was back in their luxury villa alone, just so she could force her to keep that promise and push her into Marco’s arms. She’d show Julie—and herself—that she had moved on.
‘You’re smiling,’ Marco said softly as he handed her a glass of potent bubbles.
‘What’s not to smile about? I’m in a beautiful place with very agreeable company.’ She tried to tease, tried to flirt a little, but it was so out of her comfort zone. As was the silk dress which clung to each curve she usually tried to play down. The long front slit showed off her legs with each step and she tried hard to own it, to wear it. It was a dress which showcased her in a very different light. It was a dress for just Imogen.
‘Very seductress,’ Julie had said as she’d put on the shimmering gown of blue which had been part of the wardrobe provided for them both for the week to enable them to test the luxury resort and blend in. It was also something she could only dream of wearing and she hated to imagine how much it had cost.
‘Only agreeable?’ he teased as he sipped his champagne, his gaze holding hers, sending tingles of excitement down her spine.
She watched him drink, his handsome looks very Mediterranean, but his accent was unmistakably American. As he waited for her to answer, he lifted his dark brows suggestively, his eyes sparkling with sexy mischief.
‘Okay,’ she laughed. ‘But it might inflate your ego too much. I’m in a beautiful place with a handsome man for company.’
‘That’s much better,’ he laughed. ‘So, just Imogen, what is it you do in London?’
Imogen nearly choked on the champagne as his question threw her off balance. Her thoughts raced as she scrabbled for something suitable to tell him. She was hardly going to tell a man like him, a man who emanated wealth from every pore of his sexy body, that she was merely an office worker living one monthly paycheque to the next. Why spoil the magic of the moment? Why not really live the dream and create a new life for herself?
‘I’m a personal assistant.’ She sipped her champagne then put the glass down, not wanting to drink too much too fast. ‘What about you?’
‘I’m in the leisure industry.’
‘In America?’
He laughed. It was such a sexy laugh her stomach somersaulted and if she hadn’t been sitting down she was sure she would have to because her knees would have weakened as desire began to slip over her body in a way she’d never known possible.
‘That obvious?’
‘A little, but you have Mediterranean looks.’ What was she saying? She might as well have told him that she’d been studying him.
‘My family originates from Sicily. My grandfather emigrated to New York with my grandmother when they were newlyweds to start a new life.’ He smiled, and she
