Their contract had loopholes in his favour—he had made sure of that in case it came to this. He had known there was a possibility that Umberto was using the Isola deal to leverage him into signing over the castle, but he hadn’t planned on caring about who it might affect.
Dara looked at him thoughtfully. ‘You want that deal badly enough to have accepted my event pitch. I don’t see what can be so important that you would consider walking away from it now?’
Leo knew she had no idea what she was talking about, but she was right. They didn’t know each other well enough for him to take her feelings into account. He had no reason to feel guilty. The loss of the venue might cause her trouble, but he would pay her off. Make sure he lessened the financial blow.
He wouldn’t tell her straight away. He would wait at least until he had made his decision.
* * *
Dara noticed the stern set of Leo’s jaw as they got into the limo. It had been a long evening of polite conversation. The kind of conversation that arose when there was a lot of tension in the air. She noticed that the air of mischief that normally surrounded him had evaporated, to be replaced with a brooding distance.
She found herself wondering at his change in mood, willing him to say something inappropriate and break the silence. She had spent the entire night arguing all the reasons why she shouldn’t just cross the hall and slip into his bed. It had been sheer torture, with every fibre in her body urging her to give in to the way he made her feel.
‘You keep looking at me,’ he said darkly. ‘Something to say?’
Dara raised her brows at his tone. ‘I was just wondering why you were sitting there like a petulant child all of a sudden.’
‘I’m not in the mood for this right now,’ he warned.
‘It’s okay for you to be a jerk, but when it’s given back you get annoyed?’ She laughed, trying to lighten the mood.
‘I was told not to be playful, if I remember correctly. Once the show was over. Or do you forget last night already?’
Dara felt heat creep into her cheeks. How could she ever forget last night? The memory of his mouth devouring hers, his hand sliding between her thighs, had kept her awake most of the night. She had been unable to sleep, knowing he was so near, confused at the sudden longing consuming her. It was not how she usually reacted to men—not since she had made the decision never to be with a man again.
She was unable to think around him and unable to resist the temptation he offered.
‘Like I said, I’m in no mood to play games.’ He stared out of the window, oblivious to the nature of her thoughts.
‘What if I’m not playing games any more?’ She spoke quietly, not quite knowing what she’d been about to say until it had already left her lips. ‘What if I’ve changed my mind, Leo?’
Leo watched her for a moment, moving his hand to rest it casually on her thigh. ‘I think that maybe you need to spell it out for me, carina. In case I am getting the wrong idea.’
With shaky fingers she rested her hand on top of his. Anchoring him there. This was madness. She was supposed to move away, to make a snarky comment or give him the cold shoulder. Not hold his hand like a wanton.
That was the problem, though. She felt wanton.
She felt more sexually charged than she had ever felt in her entire relationship with her ex-fiancé. With Dan it had been mutual respect, puppy love.
This was raw lust.
He was completely still, watching intently for her reaction. She could feel his gaze burning through her. She stopped thinking, grabbed the front of his shirt and pressed her lips hard to his.
CHAPTER FIVE
LEO FELT THE last remnant of his restraint disappear in a haze of heat, running his hands up her sides, his mouth devouring hers. All the pent-up frustration came pouring out of them both as her hands found his hair and she ran her fingers through it, anchoring his head close as he leaned down to kiss her neck.
He began to undo the top few buttons on her blouse and felt her hesitate.
He raised a brow in silent question.
She answered by pulling his head back up and kissing him again. He growled low in his throat, lifting her off the seat and onto his lap. He moulded her curves to him, bunching her skirt up high on her hips and running his palms down the length of her thighs.
‘God, you are perfect.’
He groaned, cupping both breasts in his hands and kneading gently. He tilted his hips upwards, moulding their bodies together in a way that made her gasp. He could feel the moisture between her thighs already. She was hot and burning for him.