‘Pretty is for little girls. And you’re all woman, Ella.’ She saw his hands bunch in his pockets, drawing the fabric of his trousers tight. ‘You’re the only woman here that I want in my bed.’
Her breath was an audible gasp.
‘You’re stunning. The fire in your eyes, that sassy mouth of yours, all that lovely lush bounty of hips and breasts and long, long legs. I want—’
‘That’s enough!’
Ella pressed a palm to her pounding chest. Her heart hammered up high as if it had broken free. ‘We’re not discussing my looks or who you want in your bed.’
‘We’re not?’ His mouth kicked up at the corner in a tiny smile that was far more devastating than the one he’d given her before. It was the sort of smile a friend or lover might give, a shared intimacy.
Ella tugged the silk dress further down her thighs. ‘No. We’re discussing the fact that you marrying into the Sanderson family is totally unnecessary.’
‘Unnecessary? Yes.’
At last! She felt as if a huge stone lifted off her chest. Finally some of the tension drained from her body.
‘But definitely appealing.’ His eyes traced a sinuous line down her tall frame and it was a wonder Ella didn’t self-combust. If any other man had ogled her like that she’d have slapped him. Instead her shoulders tightened, pushing out her breasts as if she revelled in that proprietorial look.
‘I beg your pardon?’ Pity the words sounded breathy rather than outraged.
‘You heard me, Ella. Don’t play coy.’
‘I’m not playing anything!’ Had the world gone mad? Had lust addled her brain? ‘You can’t seriously tell me you think my father’s plan makes sense.’
‘Actually—’ his eyes locked with hers ‘—I think it’s an excellent idea.’
‘You’ve got to be kidding.’ She stared into that steady blue gaze, waiting for some sign that Donato was joking.
No sign came. Ella folded her hands over her chest then wished she hadn’t when his gaze flickered to her breasts, pushed up under the tight silk. She hated how that split-second glance flustered her.
‘It’s not going to happen. Felicity won’t marry you.’
‘So you said.’ He leaned forward, holding her gaze. ‘You’re repeating yourself. Do I make you nervous?’
‘Nervous? No.’ Casually she reached for her discarded glass and took a slow sip.
‘Something else then?’ His voice was a dark purr. Instead of reassuring, it primed her fight-or-flight response. Donato was no tame cat. He was about as safe as a panther eyeing its next meal.
‘Several things spring to mind, Donato, but I’m too polite to spell them out.’
His chuckle was warm treacle spilling through her veins. ‘It’s been an absolute pleasure meeting you tonight, Ella. I hadn’t expected to enjoy myself so much.’
‘I amuse you?’ Her jaw firmed, her look dared him to laugh at her.
‘That’s not the word I’d use.’ Abruptly his laughter died. His expression was sombre and intent.
‘I don’t want to know.’
His eyebrows arched. ‘You don’t? I hadn’t pegged you for a coward, Ella.’
She shook her head. ‘I’m not afraid of you.’ She was too busy being terrified of the stranger she’d become while she was with him.
‘Good, that will make things so much more enjoyable.’
‘What things?’
He rocked back on his heels. ‘Our relationship.’
‘We don’t have a relationship. I’m going to leave and you’ll spend the rest of the evening enjoying the party.’ It was a test of willpower not to look at the pool terrace, where the laughter had escalated to riotous. He’d be welcomed with open arms. ‘We won’t see each other again.’
The realisation was like a rock plummeting inside her stomach. Despite all tonight’s negatives, Ella felt invigorated, more energised than she had in ages.
‘Why? Do you have a man waiting up for you?’ Donato dragged his hands out of his pockets, his stance widening as he folded his arms across his chest. The movement transformed him from lazy spectator to belligerent adversary. Or maybe it was the way he scowled.
‘There’s no one waiting up for me.’ Ella could have bitten her tongue. He brought out the reckless, unthinking side she usually managed to squash.
‘Excellent. I won’t be stepping on anyone’s toes.’