cursed her revolving thoughts now, as she debated what to wear after her shower. A part of her wanted to wear jeans and a shirt, but then she thought of the mocking look in Carter’s eyes when he registered that she was obviously trying not to make an effort. So instead she picked out a simple black silk dress that had a scooped neckline and a gathered waist. It fell to her knees. Positively nun-like. Perfect.
After applying a minimum of make-up, and pulling her hair back into a low bun, she slid on her own kitten heel shoes and made her way downstairs, noticing that she was just on time. She was just grumbling to herself that she was pathologically incapable of being late, even if she wanted to be, when Carter appeared in the lobby below, with a bottle of wine in one hand and a glass in the other.
He’d been transformed from manual labourer back to suave, elegant businessman, in dark charcoal-coloured trousers and a light grey shirt. Lia could see that his normally unruly hair looked damp, and was bombarded with an X-rated image of him in a shower, with water sluicing down over those impressive muscles.
‘Esmé told me she’d found you. I apologise again for leaving you to your own devices but after Joao—Esmé’s husband—offered his services for the afternoon, we managed to get all the maintenance jobs done at once.’
Lia wasn’t quite sure how she’d made it down the stairs, but now she was standing only a few feet away from him. Something about his easy manner and her sense of this villa feeling far too familiar, even after such a short time, was very disconcerting.
Her voice was husky. ‘I wasn’t expecting you to entertain me. I had a lovely afternoon on the beach.’
His voice had a faintly disbelieving tone. ‘You weren’t bored?’
Lia shook her head, realising that the afternoon had been far more pleasant than she’d even admitted to herself. And if she had felt a tiny sense of loneliness it hadn’t been for the company of this man, she assured herself fiercely, and got a grip on her wayward emotions. She put it down to the after-effects of the sun.
‘I swam and read a book. I haven’t had a chance to do that for a long time.’
He didn’t respond, but Lia could imagine that Carter believed she meant since her last luxury holiday. She bit back the urge to disabuse him of that notion. She didn’t care what his opinion of her was... All that mattered was putting up with this weekend for the sake of his charitable donation.
Lia followed him into the salon, where the lights had been dimmed and candles flickered invitingly. The air was still warm after the day, and it was heavenly after the biting breeze of autumn in New York.
Carter turned from where he was opening some wine at a drinks cabinet. ‘Would you like a glass? It’s from a good friend’s vineyard in Argentina.’
Lia was about to say no, but then something stopped her. A rogue desire to give in to this seductive relaxation. So she nodded and took the glass of chilled white wine, noticing that Ben Carter had picked up a glass of what looked like water. She recalled that he hadn’t ordered alcohol on their date—or non-date. And he hadn’t been drinking at the charity auction.
‘You don’t drink?’ she heard herself asking, before she could stop the words.
He shook his head and gestured for her to take a seat on the couch behind her. He sat on another couch, on the other side of the coffee table, his arm spread across the back, his big body dominating the space easily.
Lia looked away and took a sip of wine. It slid down her throat like cool silk, its bouquet flooding her senses and making her head instantly light. And even though she wasn’t looking at him his image was burned into her retinas. He reminded Lia of a lounging pasha she’d seen once in a painting, surrounded by a bevy of exotic beauties. The civilised surroundings didn’t diminish his robust masculinity at all. And that provocative memory of him half-naked wasn’t helping.
He eventually supplied, ‘I don’t drink. At all.’
She couldn’t keep averting her gaze, so she looked back to see that his expression was almost challenging. She just shrugged, as if her curiosity wasn’t as piqued as it was. ‘I don’t drink much myself...a couple of glasses is usually my limit.’
Some of the tension seemed to go out of his shoulders. The thought of him having had a drink problem... She just couldn’t see it. He was way too in control. Perhaps it had something to do with his upbringing?
Just then Esmé appeared at the entrance of the room and told them dinner was served. Ben stood and let Lia precede him out of the room to the dining room next door, similarly dimly lit, with candles flickering.
A table was set with a white tablecloth and silver. It was very romantic. And that, along with her sudden curiosity to know more about this man, made Lia say stiffly, ‘You really shouldn’t have gone to this trouble.’
He held out Lia’s chair and she had to sit down, very aware of him behind her.
As he came around and took his own seat he drawled, ‘It took an eight-hour plane journey and a two-hour time difference to get you to have dinner with me, so a little effort is worth it, I think.’
Lia looked at him and had to figure that most men wouldn’t have bothered pursuing her this far—or they would be resenting the trouble they’d gone to. A man she’d dated briefly before her ex-fiancé had turned nasty when she’d been less than eager to jump into bed after their first date. It was one of the reasons she’d liked Simon—because he’d respected her boundaries. Little had she known that he was being respectful because he was eyeing up a chance to get a permanent foothold in the legal team who represented her father’s company, and because his ‘needs’ were being met elsewhere.
But Carter was still here, and it felt as if he had stormed into her life, blasting apart the cynicism she’d built around herself after her parents’ break-up and her disastrous engagement.
The consequences if she was to unbend even slightly and give in to his seduction were suddenly terrifying to contemplate—because Lia knew now that he’d already slid under her skin enough to make an impact that she really didn’t want to acknowledge.
For him this was just about a conquest—personal and professional. Of that she had no doubt.
She leaned forward slightly. ‘Look, Mr Carter... I know that this is about my father as much as you say it’s about me—’
But she had to stop as Esmé appeared with their starters—beautifully prepared individual ravioli in a cream and mushroom sauce. Lia didn’t miss the all-too-interested look the woman sent to each of them.
When they were alone again he responded. ‘First of all, my name is Ben. Second of all, the fact that I have a professional interest in your father is common knowledge. Many others have—not just me. Your father has never had a problem protecting his interests, so unless something has changed he is perfectly safe, no matter what happens between us. And thirdly...when I saw your photo in the matchmaker’s portfolio I wanted you before I knew who you were.’
The words sat between them in the thick silence. Fatally, all Lia registered was that he’d wanted her before he’d known who she was. And, God help her, that struck deep. It was like when she’d been standing on that dais and someone had wanted her enough to bid a small fortune for her...an elusive stranger she’d thought she wanted. Who was him. The man sitting across from her now, blue eyes glinting. Handsome as sin.
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