At The Ruthless Billionaire's Command. Кэрол Мортимер
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part of her—certain parts of her—was responding to the flickering flames in those coal-black eyes.
Her skin felt incredibly sensitised. Her nipples were tingling and between her thighs she was becoming slick with arousal.
‘Is it?’ Gregorio raised a hand and tucked a loose curl behind her ear before running his fingertips lightly down the heat of her cheek.
‘Yes...’ she breathed, even as she felt herself drawn to leaning into that caress.
Her father’s death and David’s defection meant it had been a long time since anyone had touched her, held her, apart from Cathy’s brief reassuring hugs. Lia’s body cried out for another kind of physical connection.
From Gregorio de la Cruz?
This man was a corporate shark who felt no compunction in gobbling up smaller fish. He was also a man who had a different woman on his arm in every news photograph Lia had ever seen of him. He bought and sold women—usually tall and leggy blonde women, who looked good on his arm and no doubt filled his bed at night—as easily as he bought and sold companies.
Lia wasn’t tall, leggy or blonde.
Nor was she for sale.
She stepped back abruptly—only to give a shiver as she immediately felt the loss of the heat of Gregorio’s body.
‘I’m going to my bedroom to dress. I advise that you be gone by the time I come back.’
His sculpted lips curved into a smile. ‘I make it a rule always to listen to advice, but I rarely choose to take it.’
Her chin rose challengingly. ‘Is that because you’re always right?’
His smile widened, revealing even white teeth. ‘I have a feeling that however I answer that question you will choose to twist it to suit your own purposes.’
He was right, of course.
As always?
‘Or should I say to suit the opinion you have formed of me without actually knowing me,’ he added harshly.
Lia eyed him impatiently. ‘I know enough to know I don’t want you here.’
‘And yet undoubtedly here I am,’ he challenged.
‘That’s because you... Because I... You know what? Get the hell out of my apartment!’ Her earlier agitation had returned, deeper than ever. ‘Whatever sick game you’re playing, I want no part of it.’
He sobered. ‘I do not play games, Lia, sick or otherwise.’
‘That’s odd, because I’m pretty sure you’re playing one now.’
Gregorio drew in a deep and controlling breath. Lia made no effort to hide her distrust and dislike of him. And right now her body couldn’t hide her physical reaction to him.
Her breasts had plumped, her nipples hard as they pressed against the covering towel, and Gregorio’s nostrils flared as they were assailed with the scent of her sweetly perfumed arousal.
Lia might distrust him, might think she had every reason to dislike him, but the response of her body told him she also desired him as much as he desired her.
He could wait to satisfy that desire. If he had to. And for the moment it seemed he must.
‘I agree—you should go and put some clothes on.’ He nodded abruptly. His self-control was legendary, but even he had his breaking point. And Lia, wearing only a towel to cover her nakedness, was it.
‘Thanks so much, but I really don’t need your permission to do anything!’
A nerve pulsed in his tightly clenched jaw. ‘Dinner will be here shortly.’
‘I’ve already told you I don’t want any.’
Gregorio’s eyes narrowed. ‘Did your father have a line over which it was not safe to cross?’
‘Oh, yes,’ she recalled, with a wistful curve of her lips.
‘And I am sure you knew to the nth degree how close to that line you might venture?’
‘Yes...’ She eyed him warily now.
‘I have now reached my own line,’ Gregorio informed her calmly.
‘Is that supposed to scare me?’
Her bravado was admirable. Unfortunately it was nullified by the rapidly beating pulse visible in her throat: Lia was well aware of exactly how close she was to crossing over his line. And to paying the consequences for that trespass.
Gregorio’s mouth thinned. ‘You are—’ He broke off as the doorbell rang. ‘That will be Silvio, delivering our dinner.’
Her eyes widened. ‘Wow, you must be a regular customer for the restaurant to have delivered so quickly.’
Their dinner had been prepared at and delivered by the staff at Mancini’s, one of the most exclusive and prestigious restaurants in London. If Lia thought they were going to dine on pizza or Chinese food she was mistaken.
‘Go and dress,’ he instructed harshly. ‘Unless you wish Silvio to see you wearing only a towel.’
Lia had a feeling the thought of that bothered Gregorio more than it bothered her. She was half inclined to remain exactly as she was—if only so that she could annoy Gregorio even more than he already was.
The fact that she knew she would feel more comfortable fully clothed was the deciding factor in her turning on her heel and walking down the hallway to her bedroom. But she was aware of Gregorio’s devouring black gaze following her every step of the way.
Once in her bedroom, Lia slumped back against the closed door and drew in several deep breaths. Exactly what was going on here? Because something most certainly was.
Gregorio had not only kept the promise he’d made two months ago, that the two of them would talk again, but now that he was here in her apartment he was making no secret of the fact he still desired her.
Her body’s traitorous response to him was harder for Lia to accept, let alone make sense of.
He was Gregorio de la Cruz, for goodness’ sake. The man who’d had a hand in driving her father to his death.
When did I stop holding him completely responsible?
She hadn’t. Had she...? No, of course she hadn’t.
Gregorio was hard, ruthless, and scary as hell. He was also at least ten years older than she was, with the added experience that came with those extra years.
Dear God, she must be more desperate for human warmth than she’d realised if she’d been physically aroused by a man she should hate!
* * *
‘Good?’
Lia’s only response was a throaty ‘mmm’ as she dipped another piece of asparagus into melted butter before eating it with obvious enjoyment.
Gregorio had removed his suit jacket and tie, and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt to just beneath his elbows by the time Lia had returned fully dressed from her bedroom. Her hair was loose about her shoulders, in the style he preferred—but if Lia had known that he was sure she would have scraped it back into a severe bun! She was wearing tight black jeans with a deep grey sweater that perfectly matched the colour of her eyes.
He had placed their food in the oven to keep warm, cleared the breakfast bar, found cutlery and laid two places so they were ready to eat as soon as Lia returned.
After stating that she wasn’t hungry she had devoured succulent prawns and avocado with obvious relish, and steak, asparagus and dauphinoise potatoes were now being enjoyed with the same enthusiasm. The fact that she had drunk two glasses of the red wine Gregorio had ordered to be delivered with the meal—he’d had the foresight not to order one of the vintages from the de la Cruz vineyard—would