One Night In…. Оливия Гейтс
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with longing.
‘This way.’
His long brown fingers were still loosely entwined with hers and, looking hazily down at them, she allowed herself a dizzying moment of fantasy about the pleasure they were about to bring her. He stopped outside a polished wooden door in a discreetly lit corridor and held it open for her.
Walking over to the bed, she felt a lifetime of anticipation flutter like a cloud of butterflies in her stomach. This was what she had longed for. This, had she but known it at the time, was the logical conclusion of all those girlhood wedding fantasies. She sat primly on the edge of the huge bed—or as primly as she could, given that she was wearing only the briefest bikini top, behind which her nipples were all too clearly visible—and forced herself to look up at Angelo. It was a little like looking into the sun.
He was dazzling.
Tall, broad, effortlessly and stomach-meltingly gorgeous, he stood in front of her, towering over her. But his face was emotionless. With a thrill of dark excitement she wondered if he was going to ask her to strip.
‘You should have everything you need. The bathroom is through there. Just pick up the phone if you need anything and one of the crew will bring it to you.’
Anna felt as if the world were tilting beneath her as the full horror of his words hit her. A whimper of shame and panic rose in her throat and she concentrated every ounce of self-control she possessed on swallowing it.
How could I have got it so wrong? How could I have made such a pitiful fool of myself?
It was pride that enabled her to raise her head and look him in the eye. Muster a small brittle smile. Say a polite, hollow thank you.
But when the door finally shut behind him she threw herself on to the bed and, seizing a pillow, howled out her fury and humiliation into the muffling layers of finest Siberian goose down.
Walking away wasn’t easy, but returning to the upper deck, Angelo grimly congratulated himself.
Whatever he had felt on the beach, she was business, not pleasure.
He wasn’t a man who was overly troubled by conscience. Life had not showered a steady stream of blessings upon him, so he worked on the principle that if he wanted something he had to get it himself. That had made him ruthless.
Reckless.
With money. With rules. With people.
And tonight he had wanted her, but something had stopped him. Some sort of hitherto undiscovered sense of chivalry, which had prevented him from taking her just because he could.
Sometimes he wondered if the nuns in the orphanage still prayed for his immortal soul. Maybe, finally, their prayers were being heard. Maybe there was a glimmer of hope that he wouldn’t be consigned to eternal damnation after all.
He gave a short bitter laugh.
Or maybe he just wanted to make her wait. Who knew how long it might take to get the sale of the château completed? It wouldn’t do to rush things. The longer he kept her on a slow-burn, the better.
And the more satisfying.
In Anna’s dream she was a child again, sitting on her mother’s knee and being rocked.
She looked up into her mother’s eyes, those blue-green eyes she remembered so well, and then a really odd thing happened. They were her mother’s eyes, but they were also Angelo Emiliani’s eyes, and something about that bothered her. She felt safe, protected, loved, but unaccountably uneasy.
When she woke up the rocking continued. For a moment she lay there, as fragments of the events of yesterday and last night came back to her. She sat up with a start.
The boat was moving.
Throwing herself out of bed, she stood up and looked wildly around her. The view through the window showed nothing but sea and sky. She made a sharp exhalation of fury and had reached the door of the cabin before she stopped.
She was still stark naked.
She was in the middle of the ocean and the only items of clothing she had with her were a bikini and a pair of hotpants. Oh, and a sequinned evening scarf—which would no doubt make all the difference should formal dress be required. Collapsing back on to the bed, she pulled the covers up over her head and let out a howl of rage and frustration.
‘Ah, so you’re awake.’
In the darkness beneath the covers she felt her eyes widen in horror and for a second she froze, hoping she’d imagined that dry, mocking voice. But then the covers were drawn back and she found herself staring up into those wicked eyes.
In the clear light of morning his beauty came as a fresh shock. Naked to the waist and wearing only a pair of long shorts, his blond hair was tousled and untidy. He looked more like a carefree golden surfer-boy than a billionaire businessman.
Which was horribly unfair.
Snatching the covers up to cover her breasts, she sat up and glared at him. ‘What the hell is going on?’
That cool, unruffled smile. ‘I brought you coffee.’
‘I don’t want coffee!’
‘I believe the polite response is “thank you very much”. I can assure you, you’re very privileged. I don’t usually do this sort of thing, but I looked in on you earlier and you were rather … exposed. My crew can cope with most things, but a naked eco-warrior might just prove too much, even for them.’
It almost had for him. Lying on top of the cream sheets with her pink hair tumbling over her face and the diamond stud in her navel rising and falling with every sleepy breath, she had looked wild but unbelievably sweet. Like a panther cub. He had to keep reminding himself that if he wasn’t careful she could do real damage.
Anna took a deep steadying breath and pulled the sheet more tightly around her. Making a huge effort to keep her voice level, she looked up at him.
‘Look, Angelo … Last night was …’ Oh, God, don’t blush. Don’t behave like a pathetic, inexperienced kid. Don’t give it away. ‘A huge mistake. I shouldn’t have come here.’
‘So why did you?’
He had set the coffee down on the bedside table and was looking at the newspaper he’d had tucked beneath his arm. He looked totally absorbed, as if what she was saying was a minor distraction.
‘I didn’t have much choice,’ she hissed, thoroughly nettled by his obvious unconcern.
He looked up at her with a slight puzzled inclination of his eyebrows. It was almost as though he’d forgotten she was there for a second. ‘Sorry? That wasn’t how I remember it. I think I asked you if you wanted to go back to your “friends” on the beach—’ he looked back down at the newspaper with a faint smile ‘—and you said no.’
‘I didn’t know then that a cruise around the Med was on the itinerary.’
‘I see. A quick screw. That’s all you had in mind, was it?’ He glanced back up at her. ‘I’m hurt.’
He didn’t look hurt. He look supremely unconcerned, hugely pleased with himself. And immensely bloody gorgeous.
Anna gritted her teeth. ‘We didn’t have sex.’
‘No. But you wanted to.’
Oh, God, the bastard.
Tugging the sheet, she wound it around herself and got up. Sitting in bed she felt at far too much of a disadvantage to be having this conversation. Standing up, she raked a hand through her hair and made a huge effort to keep the hysteria out of her voice.
‘Look, I didn’t have anything in mind. I wasn’t exactly thinking straight. I don’t know—maybe I drank more than I thought. I was upset and—’
‘Upset