‘You have a proposal?’ His voice was rough but his eyes glittered as if he saw through her obvious tactic.
‘How is your eyesight now? Still improving?’
‘Almost normal.’ He spread his hands. ‘But time will tell.’ He paused. ‘You were saying?’
Poppy swallowed. What had seemed easy in theory was now impossibly daunting. The big man standing four square before her bore little resemblance to the emotionally wounded one who’d poured out his remorse and pushed her away when she’d tried to comfort him.
She grabbed her courage in both hands. She could do this. Failure wasn’t an option.
‘You do an excellent job raising money for your charities.’
‘Thank you.’
‘But they’re a series of one-off events that catch the public attention for a short time.’
His eyebrows flattened. ‘So?’
‘What about a sustained approach? Awareness raising that goes on even when you’re not risking your neck climbing a frozen waterfall or crossing a desert?’
‘Go on.’
She had his attention. Perversely she felt a fillip of annoyance that he hadn’t tried to gather her close and kiss her senseless.
Poppy recrossed her legs and satisfaction filled her as his gaze slid to the movement and lingered. Not so aloof after all. Deliberately she swung one foot, watching him follow the provocative movement of a shoe designed with one message: Ravish Me.
‘I have contacts interested in contributing to a media campaign. They’d give their services for free.’
Orsino’s gaze jerked up. ‘Models?’
‘Don’t knock them,’ she said before he could make a disparaging remark. ‘People are drawn to beauty. It can sell a lot of ideas, not just luxury goods.’
‘I wasn’t being negative. We’ll take all the help we can get.’
Poppy stared but read nothing in his expression. ‘Not only models. Photographers and filmmakers.’ She mentioned a couple of names that made Orsino’s brows shoot up. ‘We thought some advertisements and maybe a short documentary. Plus a series of fundraising events with some glamour thrown in.’
‘It sounds too good to be true.’ His stance, feet planted wide and arms crossed, told her he wasn’t convinced.
‘There are a couple of stipulations.’
‘Are there indeed?’ His deep voice grooved a hollow through her empty belly.
It was Poppy’s turn to swallow as his gaze seared her. She lifted a hand to her necklace.
‘You’d have to work with me, for one. I want to be part of it.’
‘Why?’
Poppy shrugged. ‘I’m not going to be a model all my life. I want to develop skills in other areas. This is a perfect opportunity while doing something worthwhile.’
He was silent so long nervous tension buzzed through her like swarming bees. She flushed, heat dousing her skin. Had she misjudged him? Had he pushed her away not for her sake but his?
‘What else?’ He stepped close, looming above her, and the room shrank.
She lifted her head, reminding herself she could do this.
‘I don’t just want to work with you.’
‘No?’ His hands dropped to his sides. Poppy watched them flex. ‘What else do you want?’
Her hand went to her jacket. She slipped open a button then another and the sides swung wide, revealing pale skin and a demi-cup bra of gossamer grey lace.
Orsino’s chest rose mightily as he sucked in air. The planes of his face grew sharp, his nostrils pinching.
‘You want sex?’ He sounded strangled.
Poppy shrugged out of her jacket, feeling the cool air prickle her skin. Her nipples puckered. She’d never felt so exposed.
Why didn’t he move?
‘Yes,’ she whispered, her throat clogging. She didn’t know what to do with her hands, eventually planting them wide on the table. ‘But I want more, too.’
‘More?’
‘I want to be your wife.’ His eyes jerked up to snare on hers and she felt the beat of connection between them. ‘I want us to live together, as husband and wife.’
‘Is this some joke? Payback?’
Her heart plummeted. ‘You think I’d play that sort of game?’
‘No!’ He swung his head from side to side as if trying to clear his head. ‘But I can’t believe …’ He swallowed convulsively, the lines bracketing his mouth carving deep.
For long seconds Orsino stared. ‘Is it possible?’
‘Of course it’s possible!’ Her voice gathered strength. ‘You were so busy beating yourself up about how you’d treated me you forgot about the fact that I love you.’
‘You do? Still?’ His eyes gleamed with a dark brilliance.