spotted Paige making her way back to the table and he was struck anew by how not his type she was. The crimson dress outlined a figure that had more angles then curves. Her breasts were small, her body one long, lean line, and she moved with purpose rather than grace.
And yet…
He rose as she approached the table and held out his hand. ‘I believe it’s our turn.’
Paige’s heart thundered. His gaze had tracked her from all the way across the room and her heart beat as if she’d just dashed one hundred metres in less than ten seconds. She looked up at him, caution wrangling with temptation. How easy would it just be to surrender? To forget her mangled heart and the type of man who had mangled it in the first place and succumb to the invitation in Valentino’s eyes?
But Paige had never been into masochism.
She ignored his hand and headed towards the dance floor.
Valentino grinned. If she thought for a moment that he couldn’t read every emotion, the battle in those large grey eyes, she was utterly deluded. He followed her to the floor, his gaze glued to the elegant length of her naked spine the dress afforded him, and wondered what it would take to convince her to let her guard down.
Paige reluctantly let him shepherd her into the circle of his arms. His big hand sat low, just above her butt and just this side of decent. It was firm and hot and she felt a lurch in areas that hadn’t felt anything in a very long time.
Valentino felt resistance as he tried to pull her a little closer. ‘Relax,’ he murmured to her temple.
She jerked her head back slightly to forcibly remove the brush of his lips from her skin. Relax? He may as well have asked her to fly to the moon. She glared at him. ‘Let’s just get through this, okay?’
Valentino chuckled. Paige wasn’t one for stroking egos. Another factor he was finding surprisingly appealing. He’d drifted through life never having to work for the attention of a woman—ever. From his mother to his sisters and cousins, to the girls at school and beyond, he’d always had them twisted around his finger.
He was starting to realise how boring, how predictable, his life had been.
They moved to the music and Paige automatically followed, her senses infused with Valentino’s clean male scent. She sought desperately for something to say to instil distance, to break the hypnotic pull of the music and his warm breath.
Anything.
‘So, Valentino, Alessandro tells me you are a cochlear implant surgeon.’
Valentino smiled at her robotic question. He looked down into grey eyes that were averted to a point beyond his shoulder. That she could see over his shoulder was a first for him too. Most women he’d dated, apart from Adrianna, had been shorter. At six feet two, he still had a few inches on her but the fact that it would just take one tantalising tilt of her chin to claim her mouth was an intriguing proposition.
‘Yes, Paige. Alessandro tells me you have a daughter who needs one?’
Paige stumbled at the mention of McKenzie, grateful for a moment that Valentino’s body was there to lean into, to steady herself. But then aware, too aware, of the muscles beneath his shirt, the strength in his arms, the heat of him, the power of him.
‘Yes,’ she said, pushing away from his chest and holding herself as erect, as far away as was possible, which was severely hampered as the dance floor filled with other couples and they were jostled closer together.
‘She’s scheduled for two months’ time.’
Curiously Paige found herself wanting to tell him about McKenzie, about her fragile health and the long road they’d both been on, but as much as she was desperate for conversation to maintain distance, the ups and downs of her life were not for public consumption.
‘Is she a patient of Harry Abbott’s?’
Paige’s face lightened. Now, Harry, her boss, she could talk about. She could talk about him and his genius all night long. Finally she felt on solid ground. ‘Oh, yes. Only the best for my little girl. Do you know him? He’s an absolute pioneer in the field.’
Valentino smiled, amazed at the difference in Paige as passion filled her eyes and she came alive, her face animated. Is this what she would look like beneath him in bed? His hand tightened against her spine, inching her unresisting body closer.
‘Of course.’ He shrugged. ‘Everyone knows Harry.’ In fact, it had been Valentino’s very great pleasure to finally meet the man a couple of months back during an interview.
Paige nodded. ‘He’s an absolutely magical surgeon, so clever and such a fair boss. And great with his patients. He insists everyone in the audiology department knows how to sign so the patients are at ease.’
She chatted away, finally comfortable in his arms. So comfortable, in fact, she didn’t notice that the song ended and another began. Or that they were now so close their bodies rubbed deliciously against each other as they swayed to the tempo.
Valentino, on the other hand, had noticed. In fact, he could barely register anything else. Her chatter faded into the background along with the music as his body responded to the subtle friction of her dress against the fabric of his trousers and the waft of frangipani and woman lit a fire in his groin.
She shifted against him as someone from behind bumped into her and he almost groaned out loud. ‘Paige.’
His voice, low and throaty, snapped her out of her prattle and she was instantly aware of the chemistry between them. The ache of her taut nipples as they chafed against the fabric of her dress and his shirt. The darts of heat radiating from the fingers of his hand on her spine, shooting waves of sensation over her bottom and the backs of her thighs. The heat in her pelvis stoked by the heat in his.
Her eyes locked with his, the lust, the intent in his espresso gaze frightening. She opened her mouth again to use conversation as a weapon to repel him, to push him away.
But Valentino got in before her. ‘Do you think if you talk enough you’ll be able to ignore what’s going on here?’
Paige’s eyes widened at his insight. ‘I…I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ she denied, feeling frantic, like a mouse on a treadmill set on maximum speed.
‘Paige.’ Valentino ground out her name as he flattened his palm against her spine, bringing them even more intimately into contact. ‘I think you do.’
For a few seconds Paige wanted nothing more than to grind herself against him. It was an urge she had to suppress with an iron fist.
The music stopped and people clapped. She used the distraction to gather every ounce of willpower and step out of his arms. ‘No. I don’t.’
And she spun on her heel and got as far away from Valentino Lombardi as she could.
An hour later Paige couldn’t take being sociable another second. She knew it was bad form to leave the wedding before the bride and groom but she just couldn’t stand being in the same room as Valentino, watching him dance and flirt, for a second longer.
She made her apologies, assuring Nat she was staying the night but pleading a headache. When the lift arrived
