One Christmas Night In.... Кэрол Мортимер
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it made her gasp softly in awe. The walls were gleaming white, with gold—real gold leaf?—picking out the intricacies of the cornices and scrollwork, and another beautiful glass chandelier hung from the middle of the ceiling. A deep blue Aubusson carpet covered most of the marble floor space, and the furniture was obviously from the early nineteenth century—delicate and lovely, with numerous expensive china figurines adorning it. Yet more original paintings were on the walls, and huge, almost floor-length windows looked out onto the magnificence of Rome’s skyline.
And in the midst of all this elegance stood Count Scarletti, very tall and imposing, beside an ornate fireplace in which a fire crackled and flamed, adding a warmth to this beautiful room that Lily felt was singularly lacking in its master.
She huddled into her jacket as she felt another chill run down the length of her spine. ‘You were about to explain why Felix didn’t meet me at the airport as planned.’
He slowly quirked one dark and arrogant brow. ‘Was I?’
Lily looked puzzled. From the little Felix had told her of his employer she’d gained the impression Dmitri Scarletti was a hard taskmaster but a fair one, expecting no more of his employees than he did of himself. In fact, she had got the distinct feeling that her brother’s boss worked as hard as he was reputed to play. Certainly Felix had said nothing about the other man being cold and withdrawn and less than helpful!
She drew in a sharp breath. ‘You—’
‘Perhaps you would care to pour the tea before we continue our conversation?’ He indicated a silver tray on the low, ornate white coffee table on which a teapot and cups had been arranged.
No, Lily would not care to pour the tea; she wanted to know where Felix was, and why he hadn’t met her at the airport—and she wanted to know now! Except good manners—and her brother’s employment by this man—dictated that she not be so obviously rude to him. Especially as the Count had taken the trouble to upgrade her to first class on the flight over here, as well as sending his own chauffeur to meet her at the airport!
Dmitri might almost have smiled at the battle for good manners so obviously going on inside Giselle Barton’s beautiful head. Almost. But until he had ascertained exactly how much she knew about her brother’s present behaviour he intended to treat her with the same suspicion with which he now regarded Felix.
‘I am sure you must be in need of refreshment after your flight, Miss Barton.’
‘Not really. I had more than enough champagne to drink on the plane,’ she admitted ruefully.
‘Indeed?’ Dmitri drawled with obvious distaste.
Colour warmed those pale cheeks as she shifted her shoulders uncomfortably. ‘Courtesy of your kindness in upgrading my seat.’
‘It was the least I could do,’ Dmitri said curtly.
‘Yes. Well. I appreciate the kindness.’
She looked awkward, as if she were unaccustomed to such attentions. Which she probably was; Dmitri knew from his conversations with Felix these past few months that his parents were dead and his only sister lived alone in London.
‘Now, I’m sure I’ve taken up enough of your time, so if you wouldn’t mind arranging for a taxi to take me to Felix’s apartment?’
‘Later, perhaps.’ Dmitri moved with the intention of sitting in one of the wing-backed armchairs beside the fire, and became instantly aware of the way she took a wary step backwards. Perhaps he deserved that; normally a man of cool and rigid self-control, he realised at the moment he was only barely managing to hold his inner feelings of anger in check.
An anger Giselle obviously sensed even if she didn’t know the reason for it …
If indeed she truly didn’t know the reason for it …
At the moment the two of them were playing a cat and mouse game, neither revealing to the other what they knew of this situation, but instead using the dictates of good manners as a shield to what they were really thinking and feeling.
Whatever the outcome of this conversation, she would not be leaving Palazzo Scarletti until Dmitri had decided she would.
He sat down, eyeing her mockingly as he crossed one elegant knee over the other. ‘Even if you would not like one, perhaps you would not mind pouring a cup of tea for me?’
‘I— Yes, of course.’ She dropped her shoulder bag awkwardly to the accompaniment of the muffled sound of a metal clunk as it hit the carpeted 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