Married for the Tycoon's Empire

But now Ben was sliding his hands between her legs, finding where her body was her ultimate betrayer and saying, ‘Look at me, Lia.’

So, even though it was the last thing she wanted to do, she welcomed the distraction from her whirling, dangerous thoughts and assured herself that she would be fine. And she opened her eyes and kept them on him even as he tipped her over the edge and she screamed out her release...even as she was afraid that her worst fears would manifest in spite of everything.

CHAPTER EIGHT

LIA MIGHT HAVE regretted bringing Ben to her favourite restaurant if she hadn’t been so hungry and in a physically weakened state from an overload of pleasure.

She took in the exposed stone walls covered with sepia-toned pictures of Italian scenes, slightly mottled with age. The small tables covered with checked tablecloths and the small vases filled with fake posies of flowers.

Feeling defensive, even though he looked remarkably at ease and delicious, dressed casually in faded jeans and a light woollen jumper, Lia said, ‘I’m s

ure you’re used to more salubrious establishments...but it’s unpretentious and the food is to die for.’

Ben looked at her and smiled that wicked smile. It was as if he’d reached out and stroked her skin with his finger.

‘If I’d known you were such a cheap date I’d have taken you to Jersey shore instead of Bahia.’

Lia’s pulse tripped at his teasing.

And then he leaned forward and said conspiratorially, ‘I’ll have you know that I spent many a weekend serving margherita pizzas, and lasagne, to hungry New Yorkers while I worked my way through college.’

Lia seized on the opening he’d given her. ‘How did you get to college?’

‘As a kid from a foster home?’

She half shrugged and nodded. He knew she wasn’t a snob, that she hadn’t meant it like that. But she was curious to know how he’d begun his climb to the top.

Their starters had been served, and Ben took a bite from his calamari fritti, and wiped his mouth. ‘After my parents died I was sent to my first foster home in Queens.’

Lia frowned. ‘There were no friends or family who could take you in?’

A hard gleam came into Ben’s eyes, turning them cold. Lia repressed a shiver and remembered what he’d said about people turning their backs on his parents after the scandal.

‘My parents were both only children, and their own parents were dead. My mother had trouble conceiving. I was the result of years of IVF treatment.’

Lia took some of her soup but didn’t taste it. Her whole attention was on Ben. She put down her spoon. ‘What was it like...after they died?’

He looked at her. Strong, formidable. It was hard to imagine this man ever being vulnerable.

‘It was tough...but it was almost a relief. They’d both fallen to pieces in the aftermath of the scandal. My father had become a bitter drunk. I used to come home from school, after another beating for my accent and different mannerisms and the fact that I was way ahead of everyone else in my class, to find him passed out on the couch. My mother was totally helpless. A Long Island princess living a nightmare. I had to do everything for them.’ His jaw tightened. ‘But that wasn’t what bothered me the most—it was the fact that they gave up so easily.’

Lia tried to ignore the tightening in her chest. ‘You got beaten up for your accent?’

He nodded. ‘Every day. Until I realised that I had to fight back. And I did. I learned to blend in. By the time my parents died no one from my previous school would have recognised me.’ He looked at her with a warning light in his eyes. ‘It’s not a pretty story, Lia.’

‘If you think I’m looking for pretty stories then you still don’t have a clue who I am,’ she fired back.

Ben shook his head, an enigmatic look in his eyes. ‘Tell me again why it is that you’re not sunning yourself on some millionaire’s yacht and worrying about tan lines?’

She arched a brow. ‘That’s the only choice open to me, is it? I could ask the same of you—you’ve surely earned enough by now...’

Ben lifted his glass, mouth quirking, ‘I deserve that. Touché.’

When he stayed silent, though, still waiting for an answer, Lia said, ‘I told you—it’s never been what interests me. I was always nerdy at school—more interested in studying than in gossip or clothes—which didn’t exactly earn me lots of friends.’

Ben tilted his head to one side, with a look in his eyes that she didn’t quite like. ‘Why is it that I get the impression that you were a shy kid? You were shy that evening up on the podium at the auction too.’

Lia sucked in a breath. Was she so awfully transparent to him? His perspicacity made her feel vulnerable.