Vieri's Convenient Vows. Andie Brock
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loving every moment of her discomfort.
‘Yes.’ Her voice went up a notch. ‘You know perfectly well what I’m talking about.’
He certainly did. Vieri let his eyes travel slowly over her flushed face, lingering on the swollen pout of her mouth. His very physical reaction to her had taken him by surprise, as clearly it had her, the passionate nature of the kiss catching him unawares. He had thought himself firmly in control, never doubted it for a second but somehow, lost in the heat of Harper’s mouth, that control had slipped dangerously. In fact, if Harper hadn’t called time on their little role-playing exercise he wasn’t sure he would have had the willpower to do so himself. And then where would they be? In bed, that was where, at least if he’d had any say in the matter.
The image of Harper splayed across his bed had lodged in his mind and refused to be shifted. Her copper-coloured hair spread across the pillows, that shapely figure of hers waiting to be divested of its clothes, the no doubt sensible underwear he’d find and the pleasure he would take in slowly removing it. There was something incredibly sexy about Harper McDonald, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on, though his traitorous body would have him putting his finger pretty much everywhere. And that would be just the start.
He gazed at her now, at the way those remarkable tawny eyes glittered with a mixture of arousal and defiance. She really had no idea how attractive she was and that made a welcome change from the sort of women he usually found himself surrounded with who, frankly, suffered from the opposite problem. But it was more than that. There was an earthiness to her, a sensuality that was entirely unwitting, just a part of who she was. Perhaps it was her Scottish heritage. Somehow she conjured up purple heather and damp bracken and soft green moss and how it would feel to lay her down on such a bed and make love to her.
Enough! Moving a couple of steps away, he adjusted the fit of his trousers. Taking Harper to bed was not part of the plan. He just needed to remember that.
‘Well—’ he adopted a businesslike approach ‘—if you are sure we are done here, I will go and get on with some work.’
Turning to leave, he had reached the doorway when he remembered something. ‘Oh, by the way.’ He looked back to where Harper was still rooted to the spot. ‘I meant to say, there is a charity gala here in Palermo on Saturday. Alfonso is a patron. He would like us to go.’
‘Oh, right.’ She didn’t even try to hide the despondency in her voice and for some reason that riled him. He wasn’t used to his dates being anything less than wildly enthusiastic when they were chosen to accompany him to glittering social events.
‘You will need an appropriate outfit.’ He raked his eyes dismissively over her casual jeans-and-top ensemble. ‘In fact, you should choose several outfits. There may be a number of social engagements we need to attend while we are here.’
‘I see.’
‘My driver will be at your disposal. And obviously you will charge everything to my account.’ Still she refused to look remotely grateful. Weren’t women supposed to like shopping? ‘I trust that won’t be a problem?’
‘No problem at all.’ She tipped her chin haughtily. ‘It’s your money.’
‘Indeed it is. And you are, to all intents and purposes, my fiancée.’ Mounting irritation scored his voice. ‘So please make sure you choose appropriately.’
‘Yes, sir.’ She tossed her hair dramatically over her shoulder. ‘Heaven forbid that I should embarrass you in any way.’
Vieri ground down on his jaw. Embarrassment was not one of the emotions this infuriating young woman stirred up in him. But right now he had no intention of examining the ones that she did.
‘Bene, that’s settled, then.’ He turned and strode from the room. Suddenly the need to put some space between them seemed vitally important.
HARPER HAD TO admit that there was a certain heady excitement about going into these exclusive designer boutiques and knowing she could buy anything she wanted. At the mention of Vieri Romano’s name, the snooty shop assistants were falling over themselves to help her, parading a dazzling array of garments before her. In the end she bought a cocktail dress, a pair of tailored trousers and a fitted jacket, all of which, she decided sourly, would be considered sufficiently appropriate.
But still no ball gown. As she breathed in the expensively scented air of yet another boutique, Harper determined that she would not leave this one without the requisite purchase. She was quite sure that there were any number of beautiful dresses here that would be more than suitable. The fact that she didn’t feel right in any of them was because of the circumstances, not the gowns.
Finally she made her choice, a dark green lightweight velvet creation with a demure neckline and a full-length skirt. It was considerably less daring than some of the outfits, which was why she picked it. She didn’t want to feel sexy around Vieri. Not when just the memory of that clinch, that kiss, was enough to set her knees wobbling again.
She was arranging to have it delivered to the hotel when she was interrupted by a tall, striking-looking middle-aged woman who she had noticed idly flicking through a rail of clothes and who had now silently come to stand beside her.
‘Excuse me.’
Harper turned and gave her a friendly smile. It wasn’t returned.
‘Did I hear you say that you are a guest of Vieri Romano?’ The woman spoke perfect English.
‘Yes.’ Harper wasn’t sure what business it was of hers but she politely replied.
‘How very interesting.’ Perfectly made-up eyes swept over her from top to toe, taking in every little detail until Harper felt she was staring at her very bones. ‘And that outfit you are buying.’ She pointed a manicured finger at the dress being held by the sales assistant. ‘It is for the Winter Ball?’
‘Yes, that’s right.’
‘Then how fortunate for you that we bumped into each other. A dress like that will never do. Vieri will hate it.’
Harper frowned. She didn’t like being spoken to like this by a woman she didn’t know from Adam. In fact, instinctively she didn’t like this woman at all, but, positioned firmly beside her as she was, she was impossible to ignore. Sensing Harper’s reluctance, the woman gave her a forced smile.
‘How rude you must think me, my dear.’ She extended a hand weighed down with jewelled rings. ‘Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Donatella Sorrentino. I am an old friend of Vieri’s.’
‘Harper McDonald.’ Harper took her hand but found herself pulled into an awkward embrace, the soft fur of the woman’s mink coat crushed against her chest as several heavily perfumed air kisses were wafted on either side of her. Pulling away, Donatella studied her with highly critical eyes.
‘So tell me, Harper McDonald, how do you come to be accompanying Vieri to the ball?’
Harper moved a step away. ‘Alfonso, Vieri’s godfather, is a patron of the charity that hosts the ball.’
‘You hardly need to tell me that, my dear.’ Donatella’s eyes glittered coldly. ‘I suspect I know rather more about Sicilian society than you do. And quite apart from that, Alfonso Calleroni is my uncle.’
‘Oh.’ Harper was suitably chastened. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t know.’
‘Why would you? How is the old man, by the way?’ She only just managed to stifle a bored yawn. ‘I have been meaning to pay him a visit.’
‘He is very frail.’ Harper chose her words carefully. She wasn’t going to be the one to tell this woman her uncle was dying, even if she suspected she wouldn’t give a damn. ‘But I think having Vieri here is cheering him up.’
‘I’m