floor. ‘The wheel that dropped off my suitcase earlier this morning,’ she explained with an embarrassed grimace.
Dmitri stood up smoothly. ‘If you would care to give it to me … ?’
Lily stared down at that lean and elegant hand for several seconds, imagining how that olive hue to his skin would look against her much paler—
Her cheeks began to burn as she realised exactly what she was doing. This was Count Dmitri Scarletti, for goodness’ sake! A mega-rich and successful man, reputed to escort only beautiful and successful women. Lily—only passably pretty and a mere schoolteacher—would be of no interest to him, so any fantasies she had were a complete waste of her time!
She bent her head to hide her blushes, before sitting down on her haunches beside her bag. ‘It’s completely broken, I’m afraid.’ Nevertheless, she held the wheel out to him; he possessed such a compelling arrogance it was impossible for her not to do so.
It was a compelling arrogance she realised was totally merited as he tilted her suitcase to one side before reattaching the wheel with a mere sideways twist and then a click.
She felt totally inadequate. Damn it, she had struggled all day with that suitcase, and in only a matter of seconds he had fixed it! ‘Thank you,’ she murmured as she moved to pour the tea, at the same time completely aware of his every move as he strolled across the room to resume his seat by the fire.
‘You’re welcome,’ he answered softly.
Lily avoided his penetrating gaze as she handed him the cup of tea she had just poured—careful not to so much as touch his long and elegant fingers as he took the saucer from her. She was already completely aware of this man, without the need to physically touch him.
Although she would think that plenty of women had enjoyed indulging that need …
Those spectacular good-looks aside, there was an aloofness to Dmitri Scarletti—an emotional distance that would challenge women as well as tempt them. Not Lily, of course; she could behave impetuously—as this sudden decision to spend Christmas in Rome with Felix proved—but she wasn’t stupid. Men like this one, indecently rich and dangerously handsome, weren’t attracted to lowly teachers from England. Except maybe as a casual bed partner, of course, and she had always preferred not to involve herself in meaningless physical relationships.
What on earth was she doing?
Lily sat down abruptly in the armchair on the opposite side of the fireplace to Dmitri Scarletti, still avoiding looking at him, slightly dazed by the continuation of her wild imaginings about him.
Best she stayed only long enough find out exactly where Felix was before leaving for her brother’s apartment—with or without Dmitri Scarletti calling her a taxi—and then hopefully there would be no reason for seeing the Count ever again. Lily certainly shouldn’t be allowing herself the indulgence of finding such a totally unattainable man in the least attractive!
She straightened. ‘I really do appreciate your kindness earlier today, Count Scarletti—’
‘Dmitri. I would like for you to call me Dmitri if I may be allowed to call you Giselle?’ he expanded.
Lily looked across at him blankly. ‘No! I mean—’ She waved her hand as she hastened to explain. ‘Everyone calls me Lily.’
‘Indeed?’ Once again those midnight-black brows rose to his hairline. ‘Why?’
‘It’s a long and boring story, and really one not worth wasting your time hearing,’ Lily dismissed.
‘I have no other commitments today,’ he drawled softly. ‘And surely it is for the listener to decide whether or not a story is worth hearing?’
‘By which time they’ve already been bored silly.’ Lily grimaced as she sat forward to pour herself a cup of tea after all; if the Count was in no hurry to finish this conversation—and he obviously wasn’t—then she might just as well drink some tea too. It might also help to stop her hands shaking …
Intimidated was only one way of describing how this compellingly handsome man made her feel. And from a woman used to dealing with a self-opinionated headmaster and condescending male colleagues, that was quite an admission.
But as well as the man’s obvious wealth and confidence there was a—a— The only way Lily could think to describe it was a waiting quality about this man—almost like that of a large and stealthily confident predator watching his small and decidedly vulnerable prey.
Well, she might be small in comparison to him—in comparison to most men, actually—but she certainly wasn’t vulnerable. She was a woman used to keeping a classroom full of sixteen to eighteen-year-old boys and girls in check, and Lily couldn’t allow herself to show any such weakness!
‘Please continue,’ the Count invited smoothly.
‘It really isn’t very interesting,’ Lily insisted.
He shrugged those powerful shoulders. ‘As I said, I have no other commitments today.’
That was hardly the point, now, was it? Lily just wanted to see Felix, so that they could go off and spend Christmas together. Talking of which … There wasn’t a single decoration, let alone a Christmas tree, in this elegantly beautiful room to show that Christmas Day was only two days away. Didn’t they celebrate Christmas in Italy? But of course they did—they just called Father Christmas Babbo Natale instead. So maybe it was Count Dmitri Scarletti who didn’t celebrate Christmas?
And maybe Lily was just allowing her thoughts to wander in this haphazard way because she really had no inclination to share any personal details about herself with this arrogantly aloof man?
‘Fine,’ she bit out tersely, glad she hadn’t bothered to explain the name thing to the flight attendant earlier; twice in one day was just too much! ‘My mother named me Giselle after her favourite ballet, but it soon became obvious that the name was too difficult for Felix to get his tongue around. His version of it came out as Lelly, later shortened to Lily. I’ve been known as Lily ever since. Which is probably just as well, because after only two ballet lessons at the age of six it became perfectly obvious that I have two left feet! All the grace of a charging elephant,’ Lily explained ruefully at the Count’s questioning look.
If Dmitri had met Lily at a dinner party or other social occasion then he knew he would have found himself highly entertained by her conversation. As it was, he was far too preoccupied by other considerations at this moment to allow himself to be in the least amused by her.
‘I find that very hard to believe,’ he said.
‘Oh, I assure you it’s true.’
Dmitri slowly sat forward to place his empty cup back on the silver tray. ‘Might I ask if you have heard from Felix today?’
Lily suddenly felt herself speared—yes, speared definitely described it!—by the intensity of that pale green gaze. Eyes that he must have inherited from his Russian grandmother, along with the sharply sculptured angles of his face and that incredible and imposing height.
Whatever, Lily felt herself pinned into place like that prey she had thought of earlier—a rabbit or a deer, caught in the headlights of an approaching car. ‘I— No. Why should I have done? Our arrangements were
