voice shattered those disturbingly sensuous images. He placed the fork and spoon down in her bowl and moved quickly round to the other side of the table, resuming his own seat. Before Lily could become aware of the throbbing evidence of his very obvious arousal.
This had never happened to him before, Dmitri realised with a frown. This sudden and complete awareness of a woman. And not just any woman, but one specific woman.
Oh, his relationships had been numerous over the years—brief, businesslike arrangements for the main part, that satisfied the woman’s physical requirements as well as his own, while at the same time demanding nothing from him except the occasional expensive bauble as an added sign of his interest.
Dmitri had only known Lily a matter of hours, but he already knew her well enough to realise she was the type of woman who would throw any expensive bauble in a man’s face if it was given to her under such circumstances!
Add into that equation the fact that he was keeping her here against her will—a prisoner in a gilded cage, as she put it so eloquently—and his sudden desire to kiss her, to caress and pleasure her, was the very madness she had accused him of earlier!
‘Dmitri?’
‘Yes?’ He scowled darkly as he looked across the table at her from between narrowed lids.
Lily sat back slightly and eyed him warily, not altogether sure what to make of yet another sudden change in his mood. One moment he had been teasing her, the next seeming as if he might actually kiss her and then he had retreated so suddenly it was as if she carried some sort of contagious disease.
Which was perhaps how he thought of her, believing as he did that her brother was nothing but a fortune-hunter.
And of course the attractive, the rich, the titled Count Dmitri Scarletti hadn’t been about to kiss her! What on earth was she thinking of? He’d only been being kind when he’d offered to teach her how to eat the pasta properly. The rest of it was purely in her own imagination. She would be wise to put such thoughts completely from her mind when she was the very last woman he would ever allow himself to be attracted to.
As Lily was attracted to him?
It would be useless even to try to fool herself into thinking otherwise. How could she possibly attempt to deny the attraction when she was so totally aware of every single thing about the man?
In fact, she was dangerously close to being infatuated with everything about him—the way he looked, the way he talked, the graceful way he moved, even the way he smelt. She physically ached with the effort of trying to resist her feelings.
Oh, hell …
CHAPTER SIX
THANKFULLY, by the time they had eaten the pasta and garlic bread, and loaded the bowls into the dishwasher, Lily had her wandering imagination back under control. It had been helped along by being able to relax as Dmitri related some of the more amusing stories of his time as a student in England. Designed, no doubt, to put Lily at ease.
It also didn’t hurt that along the way they’d managed to empty one bottle of red wine and open another.
In fact, Lily was now so relaxed that she had almost forgotten her reasons for being here with him by the time they sat back down at the table to eat a selection of cheeses and sliced fruit.
‘So, what made you decide to take up kick-boxing?’ Dmitri prompted curiously.
Lily shot him a wry look. ‘The fact that I’m five-foot-two-inches tall and weigh a puny seven-and-a-half stone.’
‘I see.’ He smiled. ‘And no doubt such a skill would also be useful if you were ever to find yourself the reluctant guest of an Italian count! ‘
Lily met his gaze steadily. ‘I didn’t have quite this situation in mind at the time, but yes, no doubt it would. Kick-boxing isn’t about size or weight but ability.’ She shrugged.
Dmitri frowned. ‘I trust you know that I meant it earlier when I said I do not have any intention of harming you in any way? My quarrel is not with you but with your brother.’ His expression hardened.
‘And I trust you know that I meant it when I said I’m not worried?’ she insisted.
‘Yes.’ He laughed. ‘Obviously you are a young lady well accustomed to taking care of yourself.’
Lily frowned, sensing an implied criticism of her brother in his comment. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘Exactly as it sounded.’ Dmitri gave another shrug of those incredibly wide, muscular, biteable—
Okay, so maybe she had drunk a little too much of that deliciously smooth wine with her meal—because she had definitely started drooling again!
‘As you’re well aware, we do things differently in England, Dmitri.’ She shook her head. ‘I’m twenty-six years old, and I certainly don’t need a man—especially my little brother—to take care of me, thank you very much.’ She winced as she realised exactly what she had just said. ‘Not that I’m faulting you for being protective of Claudia. Not at all. The situation is completely different, and obviously you’ve been responsible for her for a long time—’ She broke off as he began to laugh. ‘Am I overdoing the apology?’
‘Just a little.’ He smiled across at her—a smile that made her stomach turn somersaults.
Oh, good Lord … ! It really was time she made her excuses and went upstairs to bed.
‘It occurs to me that we have not had any dessert with our meal,’ Dmitri said.
Lily looked surprised. ‘Cheese and fruit don’t count?’
‘Not when the best ice cream in the world is available a short walk away, cara,’ he replied.
Lily felt warmth enter her cheeks as she recognised that casual endearment—cara was the Italian equivalent of the English ‘dear’, wasn’t it? Perhaps she wasn’t the only one who had imbibed a little too much of that delicious red wine?
Was her imagination playing tricks on her, or had Dmitri just said the best ice cream in the world was a short walk away? Why would he have said that if she was supposed to be his prisoner? ‘Are you suggesting that we go outside for a walk?’
Dmitri winced slightly. ‘You really do consider yourself a prisoner here, don’t you?’
‘Maybe that’s because I am?’ Lily said bluntly.
‘I had not—’ Dmitri stopped, and then took a deep breath. ‘Perhaps I was a little heavy-handed with you earlier.’
‘Perhaps?’ she said incredulously.
Dmitri continued to look across at her for several long minutes, appreciative of the things she had revealed about herself as they’d chatted over dinner—things that she was not perhaps even aware of. Such as the fact that she had obviously taken her role as the eldest of the twins very seriously since the death of her parents. That she had not taken a holiday in several years, and even then it had been in England. That she missed her brother very much. And, most importantly of all, perhaps, that this holiday in
