seduction before the cruel and devastating realisation that he had only been using her.
With a bitter little sob she wrenched herself away from him, and through gritted teeth managed to grind out, ‘You conceited oaf!’
Though he had allowed her some merciful space, his hands were still gripping her shoulders. ‘Deny it all you like,’ he said, his strong features flushed, his breathing laboured. ‘But we both know that your body is in conflict with that scheming little brain of yours, don’t we? I might have exposed you and your mother for what you were, but there’s much more to your venomous feeling for me than that, isn’t there, Riva? You don’t like me, cara, because of how I made you feel, because I reduced you to a whimpering mass of sensuality just begging me to take her, which didn’t quite fit in with your plans to bring me to my knees and have me as putty in your greedy little hands.’
Which was what he had to keep reminding himself of, Damiano thought savagely, thrusting her away from him because—mamma mia!—it had only taken one kiss to convince him of how much he still wanted her. Even now the ache in his loins was so acute that it hurt.
‘Believe that if you want to,’ Riva retorted in a small, shaky voice, all the fight gone out of her after the shocking way she had responded to him—a man she hated, and with just cause!
Trembling from her response, and unsteadied by the way he had so brutally released her, she clutched at the table behind her, breathing deeply to try and regain some composure, staring at the broad span of his impeccably clad back.
It was no good reminding him of how his interference in her mother’s affairs had indirectly caused the woman’s death. She didn’t even dare to goad him with that now.
He was angry—really angry—but there was something else, Riva realised. Something that had made him swing away from her, as though he couldn’t bear to look at her. As though he were weary of the constant battle he was fighting with her. Or was it some sort of battle with himself?
Pulling herself up to her full height, which didn’t seem to make a scrap of difference against his dominating six feet plus, surprisingly she found herself saying, ‘If you’ve finished humiliating me, I’ve mapped out a few ideas on the computer that you might like to see.’
He was shrugging out of his jacket, tossing it down on a chair, and Riva averted her eyes from his hard, tanned torso—visible through the fine shirt—as he came and stooped over the table, pressing keys on her laptop, using the mouse himself.
‘Olivia was right,’ he said, after studying her ideas for a few breath-catching moments—because he was much too close, the sight and scent and sound of him invading her senses, and because she wanted his approval of her professional capabilities even if he despised every last bone in her body. ‘You’re very good.’
Such praise from him in the past would have made her glow with pleasure. All she felt now, though, was relieved acceptance and a strange, inexplicable regret.
‘I like to think I’m a better judge of shapes and designs than I am of people,’ she stated pointedly, glancing surreptitiously at her wristwatch when she thought he wasn’t looking.
‘Are you in some particular hurry to leave?’ He was using the scroll wheel, and hadn’t even looked up from the screen. But then that shrewd brain of his wouldn’t miss a thing, Riva decided, resenting him, resenting his cleverness, his sharp wits, his cold and calculating mind.
Nervously, she swallowed. ‘I have an appointment.’
‘An appointment?’ He glanced up at her now, his dark eyes raking over her face. ‘An appointment?’ he repeated, straightening up. ‘Or a hot date?’
She wouldn’t tell him that she didn’t date—not seriously, anyhow—any more than she would tell him that she’d been burned so badly by him during that summer in Italy that she had never allowed herself to get that close to any man since. But if he wanted to think that there was some man in her life who might mean something to her, then let him think it! she thought acridly. Perhaps that way, at least, she would be safe from him—and from herself!
‘Damiano …’ The sudden notion that she might need any protection from herself where he was concerned was as abominable as it was startling. Had she wanted him to kiss her? Surely not! Because if that was the case then she was no better than a Judas, even entertaining such ideas about him. How could she dismiss the way her mother had suffered—and at his hands? Forget her lack of will? The drinking? Her depressions?
He hadn’t even responded to that last supplication. He was still contemplating the rough paper sketches she had made, no doubt mentally adding ideas of his own.
‘Damiano …’ It came out sounding much more desperate now. It was absolutely vital that she got away on time.
Casually he reached around her to drop the sketches down on the table, so close that the tangible warmth of his body made her drag in her breath.
‘Who is this special person who makes you plead?’ That familiar mocking smile was back, but there was curiosity too in those interrogative eyes.
‘I’m not pleading.’ Damn! Was that what he thought he could do to her? ‘I just have to get away on time.’
He leaned back against the table and folded his arms, giving her all his attention now.
‘This is no appointment, I think. Definitely a special date. Well, don’t worry, cara mia. If he’s worth his salt, he’ll wait.’
Trying not to appear too alarmed, Riva shook her head. So much for letting him think there was another man in her life! ‘I made a promise. I have to keep it.’
He picked up her mobile phone, which was lying close by. ‘Then call him,’ he invited, holding it out to her.
Trying to keep her anxiety in check, Riva snatched it from him. ‘I don’t need to,’ she uttered, hating him provoking her like this. ‘I just need to be on time!’
‘So much devotion!’ He was like a cat playing with a mouse, relishing every second of her discomfiture. ‘He must be pretty special.’
Angrily, she snapped, ‘He is!’ then wished she hadn’t, when those luxurious brown eyes narrowed to speculative slits and that hardening male mouth seemed to turn to stone.
‘Does he know that another man only has to touch you to make you forget just how special he is.’ His tone derided, and his cruel reminder of what had transpired a few moments ago made Riva’s pale cheeks flame.
‘If you’re talking about your assault on me just now, I was taken totally off-guard, that was all.’
‘Really?’ Mockery gave a cruel curve to his lips again. ‘In that case I’d be interested to witness how you’d react if I. prepared you, carissima.’
The deliberate hesitation, plus the endearment, were heavy with meaning, and she was reminded—as he’d intended her to be—of just how expertly he had ‘prepared’ her before.
That riveting sexual tension made her too slow to respond, and she stiffened as he spoke again in a voice now stripped of anything but professionalism.
‘Is this what I am to expect? Your darting off at a moment’s notice every
