Temptation's Song. Janice Sims
Читать онлайн книгу.
laughed softly as he led her to his car. “Of course I still want you. Do you think I would get on the wrong side of a woman with your punching power? I saw that cop’s face. It’s already turning purple!”
Elle laughed. “He had it coming.”
Dominic knew those were just brave words. Elle was still upset. He felt her body shake with nerves as he helped her into the car.
Once inside Elle tried to relax against the leather seat. Dominic started the car and pulled into traffic. “Where are you staying?”
She told him. He was glad she was staying at a nice hotel with twenty-four-hour security. He would feel better about leaving her alone tonight. At least, that’s what he told himself as he drove the few blocks to the hotel. By the time he had parked in their lot, he had made up his mind that he wasn’t going to leave her alone tonight under any circumstances, and he didn’t care how much she protested.
They sat in the car a few moments after he’d turned off the engine. He turned to her. “Look, Elle, you’ve had a shock to the system, and I don’t think you should stay by yourself tonight.”
She started to protest but he stopped her. “If you won’t let me in the room, I’ll sleep outside your door. But I’m not leaving you alone tonight.”
They gazed into each other’s eyes. Elle could tell he was determined. “There are two bedrooms in the suite. You can have one of them,” she said, her voice soft.
Dominic breathed a sigh of relief. There was something so vulnerable about Elle. His first instinct was to protect her. Surely he could smother his powerful attraction to her for one night?
Eyes still boring into hers, he said, “Thank you for not fighting me on this.”
“I would fight you if I thought you were wrong,” Elle assured him. “But the fact is, I just put my friends on the train earlier this evening. I would welcome someone to talk to tonight.”
He gave her a grateful smile, which sent her stomach into somersaults. “Then I’m your man.”
They got out of the car and went into the hotel.
Chapter 4
“The Met must pay you well,” Dominic remarked upon entering the suite. “This is very nice.”
Elle locked the door behind them. “I can’t afford this. My friend Belana’s father, who’s a very successful businessman, paid for our trip.”
The suite, decorated in modern Italian, had a color scheme of earth tones. The thick carpeting muted their footsteps as they crossed the room. Elle gestured to the pale golden sofa in the living room of the suite. “Have a seat.”
Looking back at him over her shoulder, she added, “I’m going to change. These shoes are killing me. There’s a bathrobe behind the bathroom door in the spare bedroom, if you’d like to get out of your clothes, too.”
Dominic knew this was an innocent suggestion. She just wanted him to be comfortable, but the thought of getting undressed while he was alone with her in a hotel room made him imagine other reasons why she’d ask him to get out of his clothes.
Watching her leave the room, her full, shapely hips moving enticingly beneath the white sheath she had on, he felt his groin tighten. He managed a strangled, “I’m fine, thank you. But you feel free to do whatever it is you do to prepare for bed.”
“All right, then. If you say so,” she said lightly as she disappeared around the corner, into the hallway.
In her absence, Dominic removed his jacket, loosened his tie, unbuttoned his long-sleeved shirt at the wrists and rolled the cuffs up to his elbows. That was as comfortable as he intended to get tonight.
In her bedroom, Elle hurried to the closet, removed her dress and hung it on a hanger, kicked off her sandals, bent down, picked them up, returned them to their shoe box and placed the box on the closet shelf. Even with Dominic Corelli waiting for her in the next room, she was, admittedly, anal-retentive and couldn’t just toss her clothing in the closet.
She went into the adjacent bathroom, ran a brush through her long, curly hair and tied it back with a blue ribbon, washed the makeup off her face and flossed and brushed her teeth. When she stripped to put on her pajamas, Violetta’s card fell to the floor. She picked it up. She would keep it as a memento.
Barefooted, she went back into the living room.
Dominic looked up and burst into laughter. “You look like a little girl!”
He had expected her to change into something feminine and soft. He had been hoping for it. Just because he intended not to touch her didn’t mean he couldn’t get his fill of admiring her.
Elle folded her legs under her as she sat down. Amusement lit up her dark brown eyes. “I’m glad you find my pajamas so funny. That’s just the reaction from the opposite sex I was hoping for when I bought them. That, or an irresistible urge to revert to childhood and sit in front of the TV with a big bowl of popcorn and watch cartoons.”
His laughter under control, Dominic regarded her with a warm smile. She was an unusual woman, sitting in front of him with her legs tucked beneath her. Her face scrubbed clean of makeup and in pajamas. Either she was the most unsophisticated woman he had ever met, or she was confident about her sexuality.
Admittedly, she looked beautiful without makeup. Her skin was smooth and clear, a lovely shade of brown with red undertones. He bet he could actually detect it when she blushed.
Maybe he should test it.
“Believe me,” he said softly, his eyes caressing her face, “I am well aware that you are a fully grown woman underneath those pajamas.”
He had been right. She blushed all the way to the tips of her pretty ears. He got a certain satisfaction out of knowing he’d caused that reaction.
Elle cleared her throat. She had to mentally shake herself before she found she could think straight again after that hot flash he’d purposely inflicted on her. She would have to be on guard around him. It was obvious he liked to flirt. She wasn’t exactly an amateur herself. But now definitely wasn’t the time to practice.
That’s why she had put on the armor the pajamas were meant to be. She hadn’t met a man yet who had found them sexy. Except the men who were determined to get her into bed, no matter what. Dominic Corelli couldn’t be that hard up for a woman. He could have any woman he wanted. What would he want with a young, inexperienced, albeit good, opera singer dying for her big break?
If he were a less scrupulous man he might be coming on to her right now. But she sensed he was an honorable man. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have allowed him inside of her hotel room, no matter what he’d said. She was raised in Harlem, after all. She might be young, but she wasn’t naive.
Refusing to rise to the bait, she smiled at him and said, “Thank you for tonight. I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t shown up.”
Dominic relaxed with his arm along the back of the sofa and stretched out his legs. “I could never have ignored your call,” he told her. “You’re alone in a strange city. I know it must have been an ordeal for you.”
“I thought it was a myth,” Elle told him.
“What?”
“That Italian men pinch women tourists on the behind,” she said, looking at him with wide eyes. “Patrice, Belana and I went all over Italy and no one touched us inappropriately. I mean, there was flirting going on, on both sides, but no touching! And then along comes that cop, who acted like he took me for a common prostitute. He said that’s what women tourists are looking for when they come to Italy.” She hugged herself as if she were suddenly chilled to the bone.
“I assure you, most Italian men are respectful of all women, tourists or otherwise,” Dominic said. He wanted to go to her and wrap her in his arms, but thought better of it. “They