friends, and though Beth seems nice how long have you known her?’ Dante demanded. Somehow the thought of the emerald-eyed beauty as a guest at his wedding was not one he wanted to contemplate.
‘Ever since we moved in, eighteen months ago. She’s a great girl and a fabulous cook. Her cakes are to die for. I don’t know what we’d do without her. Isn’t that right?’ Tony asked as Mike appeared with the drinks.
‘Yes, she is a diamond—especially to you, mate. And as we’re standing in her garden, and she prepared most of the food and has offered to take over the barbecue so I can enjoy myself, I’d say she is indispensable. And she certainly improves the view….’
Dante had wondered why Tony insisted on living out here, and now he knew. Tony was infatuated by the woman. With a few judicious questions Dante soon found out a lot more about Beth Lazenby. She was twenty-seven, and an accountant for a prestigious firm in the centre of London. She owned a cottage by the sea, and lived in the ground-floor apartment—too close to Tony for Dante’s comfort. He wasn’t sure why, but his gut feeling was telling him there was a lot more to Beth than met the eye.
He glanced across to the barbecue and saw her standing there, handing out plates of food to a group of men gathered around her, none of whom could take their eyes off her. Maybe that was the problem. She was tall, and so stunningly attractive few men would think to look past her surface beauty. She was an unlikely accountant. With her height and looks she could have been a model—she was slender enough. But maybe her high, firm breasts were a little too much for a fashion model, he mused.
‘Dante, darling.’
Ellen’s voice stopped his musing.
‘I feel like dancing.’ Grasping his arm, she smiled up at him.
‘Not my kind of dancing, but I’ll give it a go.’
Ellen was the lovely, intelligent woman whom he had chosen to be his wife, Dante reminded himself, and it was time he stopped worrying about the redhead and concentrated on his fiancée. Ellen had not wanted to attend this barbecue, but she was making an effort for his sake. Dancing with her was the least he could do….
Julian, the last man standing by the barbecue, was talking about stockbroking, laughing as he described his latest gamble on the markets. Beth listened politely, her mind only partially on what he said. She seemed unable to stop her eyes from straying towards the people dancing on the patio, and the tallest man in particular. For a big man he was a smooth mover—though he wasn’t so much dancing as allowing his fiancée to flit adoringly around him. More fool her, Beth thought. In her experience most men were a waste of time. All she wanted to do was call it a night, get into her apartment and check on Binkie. But there was no way she was going to walk through the crowd of gyrating bodies.
Luckily the music stopped and Mike came strolling over, his face flushed and smiling, obviously having enjoyed himself. ‘Sorry, Beth. I didn’t mean to leave you so long, but with it still being so light I didn’t realise the time. Tony has just gone to change the music. You go and enjoy yourself, and I’ll pack up here.’
For Beth it already felt like the longest night of her life, and she leapt at the chance to escape. People were moving to replenish their drinks, and her route was almost clear to her back door.
She was nearly there when the music started again—this time slow and moody—and suddenly her way was blocked as Cannavaro stepped in front of her, crowding her. She wanted to step back, but her pride would not let her.
‘May I have this dance? Tony is partnering Ellen, and it will give us a chance to get to know each other. We might all be family one day.’
Beth tensed and looked up at him—which was an unusual event in itself for her. She noticed that his eyes were not black. They were the colour of molasses—dark and golden. She found herself thinking that once she fell into them she would be stuck for ever. Disturbed by the fanciful thought, she caught the gleam of mockery in those same eyes and wanted to refuse his request outright. But she did not dare. He had not recognised her, she was sure, but she had aroused his suspicion by being less than courteous when they had been introduced. She did not want to compound her mistake by showing her dislike again.
She took a deep breath. ‘That’s not likely to happen. Tony was just teasing,’ she managed to say evenly. ‘But, yes, if you insist, I will dance with you.’
‘Oh, I insist, Beth.’ He drawled her name softly and his arm slid around her waist.
He looked at her, his other hand taking hers, and she was not prepared for the tingling sensation that crept over her skin and made her shiver as he held her close to his long body.
A reaction to the cooling night air, she told herself, but somehow her body, with a will of its own, was moving with him, automatically following his movements.
‘You are a very lovely lady, Beth. What man wouldn’t insist?’ he added in that deep, barely accented silken voice she remembered so well and so bitterly.
She forgot her good intentions. ‘Are you trying to flirt with me, Mr Cannavaro?’ she demanded. ‘And you an engaged man,’ she prompted, giving him a derisory smile while trying to control her inexplicably racing pulse.
A quizzical expression flickered across his face for a moment, and his incredible eyes seemed to bore into hers as his hand stroked up her spine to hold her closer still. To her shame she felt a fullness in her breasts when they came in contact with his broad chest.
‘No, Beth. I was stating the truth. But if I was flirting with you I would not have to try very hard,’ Dante opined, fully appreciating the feminine sway of her shapely body against his own, testing his control to the limit. ‘I felt you tremble when I took you in my arms, and sensed it in the softening of your body against mine. There is an instant sexual attraction between us—unfortunate, but true. Under the circumstances it is obviously not to be acted upon. But I also sense something more. You seem afraid of me—even actively to dislike me—and I have to wonder why. Are you sure we have not met before?’
God, he analysed everything, and talked like a lawyer even as they moved to the music. His muscular thighs brushed against hers, raising her temperature, and it took all her nerve to hold his dark gaze.
‘I shivered because it is getting cooler now,’ she lied. ‘And, no, we have never met before. I didn’t even know Tony had a brother. He never mentioned you until you turned up here in the garden.’
Dante stilled and let Beth take a step back, putting space between them. His heavy-lidded eyes were shrewd and penetrating, and swept over her flushed defiant face before moving lower.
‘Interesting if true!’ He raised a sardonic eyebrow, noting the thrust of her nipples against her shirt.
The lovely Beth was definitely lying about one part of that statement. He had met enough females in his time, and was experienced enough to recognise when a lustful attraction was mutual. But was she lying about not knowing Tony had a brother until tonight? She had not said half-brother, and if she was telling the truth surely she would naturally assume his name was Hetherington, the same as Tony’s? And yet she had called him Mr Cannavaro—even though his name had not been mentioned when the introductions had been made. He doubted Tony, who was not into formality of any kind, would have called him anything but Dante or bro in the couple of minutes before they had been introduced. So how could she know his surname unless she had met him before, or at least heard of him?
The mystery
