‘You have a lovely home. I hope you have these insured?’ She ran her finger down a leather spine.
Cesare dragged his attention back to his beautiful companion who was examining a row of first editions on the shelf just as the door was flung open.
‘Sorry.’ Anna, following close behind the excited child, bent forward to grab her charge but missed as Jasmine pushed excitedly by her and straight at Cesare’s outstretched hand.
‘What have you got me?’
‘Who says I’ve got you anything, kiddo?’ While he bent to angle a teasing look at his diminutive niece, in the periphery of his vision he was aware of another figure. He straightened up and watched Jas tear the paper off the gift she had extracted from his pocket before he turned his gaze her way.
Louise’s presence did not protect him from the streak of white-hot lust that shot through his body. With the lust came the reluctant acknowledgement that the explanation for the impulse behind the uncharacteristic invitation to the beautiful lawyer had little to do with the pleasure of her company or even the prospect of steamy sex. He had wanted to demonstrate to Anna Henderson that there were men who could kiss her and walk away without a backward glance. He could see now that the need to prove something, even to himself, was in itself a weakness. Wanting to catch a glimpse of jealousy on Anna Henderson’s face... That was hardly a sign of indifference.
He expelled a long slow breath and found his gaze drawn irresistibly to the face in question. His eyes roamed the delicate contours, the softly flushed cheeks, the small nose sprinkled with freckles and the mouth smiling now as she looked at Jasmine. A mouth that promised sensual delight and delivered on that promise.
Not allowing himself the dangerous indulgence, he pushed away the memory before it had fully surfaced and exhaled in a series of carefully controlled breaths. This was all about control and exerting it, all about not being a victim of his own hormones or the lush promise of her lips.
As if feeling his eyes, she turned her head. As their glances connected he saw wariness in those blue iridescent pools and also a need that made the ache in his groin tighten another painful notch.
He thought of Paul. It should have been enough to quench the hunger—it wasn’t.
‘Uncle Cesare, we lifted a stone and counted the different creepy-crawly things underneath. They were totally gross! You’ll never in a billion years guess how many there were. Uncle Cesare?’
Dark lines scoring the chiselled angles of his cheekbones, Cesare wrenched his stare free of those blue eyes and responded to the sharp imperative tug on his sleeve.
‘Were you listening?’
He cleared his throat before answering the charge. ‘A billion?’
‘No, stupid, twenty-two.’
His dark smouldering stare had deconstructed Anna’s careful rationalisation of that kiss and her shameful response brick by brick. She had never wanted to know what real passion felt like, the sort that made otherwise sensible women like Rosie act foolishly for men who were so obviously no good for them. She still believed there was always a choice, but now she understood why some women made the wrong choice.
She wouldn’t, but still... Heart pumping like an overstretched piston, she watched him grin. It softened the lines of tension from his handsome face, managing in the process to make him look even more wildly attractive and years younger.
She felt the dangerous weakening of her antagonism and reminded herself that even monsters had soft spots. Some loved their mother or their dog, and maybe this monster loved a tall blonde with the sort of grooming she would never achieve?
Jaw clenched, she slid a surreptitious look at the other woman. Tall and elegant in a silk shirt and high-waisted, wide-legged linen trousers that emphasised her endless legs and tiny waist. The woman with her sleek bobbed hair, immaculate appearance and perfect figure made Anna feel hopelessly inadequate, but on the plus side having her around might mean Cesare wouldn’t have the time to be on her case so much.
The thought of him being too exhausted after a night of relentless steamy passion with the ice queen here afforded Anna surprisingly little comfort, though it was hard to imagine that hair mussed.
Not so hard to imagine those long crimson-tipped fingers running over his golden skin. She recalled the feel of the hair-roughened skin of his face and flexed her tingling fingertips before she smothered the memory under several layers of antagonism and stubborn resolve. If he still continued to harass her even with his girlfriend around she would rise above it and simply ignore him. Anticipating her occupation of the moral high ground, she lifted her chin.