Craving Her Enemy's Touch

‘Oh, I dislike you intensely, Alessandro.’ She turned, her words a hurried whisper. Who was she trying to convince? ‘And right at this moment I have no idea what I’m doing here.’

His eyes turned blacker than the night sky, their swirling depths mesmerising. She couldn’t break eye contact. The power he’d had as he’d looked at her reflection had been intense, but this all-consuming fire which had leapt to life in her was too much.

‘You are here, cara, because you couldn’t help yourself.’ His voice was deep and gentle, caressing every heightened nerve in her body into submission. ‘Because this is what you need to do—for Seb.’

At the mention of her brother’s name the spell slipped away like morning mist as the sun came up. She could see everything sharply and in focus again. She was here for Seb—a fact she had to keep in the forefront of her mind—or lose it to the seductive charms of the worst man she could possibly fall for.

‘Exactly.’ Her eyes maintained contact with his and she saw the moment they turned to glittering blackness. ‘So I’d like to see where he worked, what he did.’

* * *

Alessandro couldn’t move, mesmerised by the intensity of what had just passed between them. For the last few weeks he’d been irritated at the thought of contacting Seb’s sister, had put the moment off for as long as possible. But, whatever he had been expecting when they’d finally met, it wasn’t the raw desire that coursed wildly through him.

If she’d been any other woman he’d have acted upon that need; he would have kissed her and explored the passion that lingered expectantly, just waiting for the touch-paper to be lit so it could explode into life.

‘Si, così,’ he instructed her to follow, unable to gather his thoughts quickly enough to use English, a situation he’d never known before.

‘Thank you.’ Those two words were so soft, so seductive he almost couldn’t move. He fought the urge to press his lips to hers. Thankfully, she stepped back, enough to remind him what he should and definitely shouldn’t be doing.

With intent, he made his way across the vast expanse of his office, resisting the urge to look in the windows and see her reflection following. He didn’t need to. His body told him she was; even if he hadn’t heard her footsteps on the marble behind him he would have known she was there.

‘This is where Seb worked.’ He went through a door at the end of his office into the room Seb had claimed as his own, the emptiness of it almost too harsh. On the far wall was the first drawing that Seb had done of the car. But still the office looked stark.

Something akin to guilt touched him. He should have brought Charlie here sooner and not left it until the last days before the launch. He should have done this a long time ago, but he’d been anxious to conceal the truth—for Seb’s sake as much as his sister’s.

As Charlie walked past him he caught a hint of her perfume; instantly he was transported back to her garden and the sweet smells of an English summer. Her deep ragged breath, inhaled quickly, drew his attention back to the present.

‘Is this what he did?’ She stood next to the desk, her fingertips tracing the outline of the car drawing. He noticed her hand shook slightly and, when she looked back at him, hesitation weaved with panic sprang from her eyes. He had the strange sensation his heart was being crushed.

‘Sì.’ His voice was so raw he couldn’t say anything else, painfully aware he was intruding on her moment of grief.

‘What else?’ She looked at him and he saw the gleam of tears collect in her eyes and the pressure on his chest intensified.

Thankful for the diversion, he walked over to the desk and opened the laptop, turned it on and looked across the desk at her. Her pretty face was pale, her eyes wide, reminding him of a startled doe. ‘There are lots of photos on here, as well as all he created in the design programme.’

She hesitated for a moment and he wondered if it was all too much. She stood and watched him as he opened the photos up on the screen and turned the laptop to face her. He felt her scrutiny and questions press down on him.

Slowly she reached out, one fingertip touching the screen. He watched her eyes, the green becoming much more intense as she looked at the photo of Seb sitting in the driving seat of the test car, and he inwardly cursed. Couldn’t he have selected a more appropriate photo for her to see first?

‘When was this taken?’ Her voice was fragile as she continued to look at the screen. She swallowed hard, trying to keep the tears at bay, and for the first time ever he wished a woman would cry. She needed to let out her grief.