Craving Her Enemy's Touch

Old and new blended tastefully with the ornate interior of the grand building and she still couldn’t help but be shocked that he didn’t live in a new and modern apartment with the same masculine lines as his office. She wondered which was the real man—the one who worked in the modern minimalist office or the contented man who surrounded himself with fine art.

Now, she stood looking out over Milan as she waited for the car to take her to the launch party, unable to comprehend how much she was looking forward to seeing Alessandro again. A brief call from him, which had sent a sizzle of anticipation down her spine, had informed her he would send his car at six. As an ornate clock struck the hour she began to have second thoughts about the long red dress she’d bought that morning.

Second thoughts were too late. The car pulled up and her breath hitched as Alessandro got out. From her vantage point at the window above him she could see that he now wore a tuxedo and looked more sexy and stunning than any man had a right to. She drank him in. He looked like every woman’s dream, the strength of his body still evident despite the high-class tailoring.

She watched as he shut the car door, grateful she had time to get her wayward thoughts reined in. She saw the black fabric stretch across his broad shoulders as he leant down and spoke to the driver. Unable to tear her eyes away, she stood watching, enjoying her unobserved vantage point.

As if he sensed her presence, he looked up at her. Despite the three floors that separated them, his gaze met hers, sending her pulse rate into freefall. If he could do this from that distance, what was it going to be like when she was actually with him?

She didn’t have to wait long to find out as the key turned in the lock of the front door and he walked into the apartment, overpowering the splendour of the living room completely.

He stood and looked at her very slowly, his gaze moving down from her head to her toes, peeping out of the red sandals that gave her a few inches more height. Defiantly she looked at him, desperate not to let him know that inside she was melting from the heat of his gaze.

‘Sei bellissimo.’ He moved towards her, each step making her heart pound harder. His Italian was more sexy than his accented English. Her heart soared. He thought she was beautiful.

Shyness swept over her and she lowered her gaze. The vibrant red dress she had bought in a moment of defiance was having more of an effect than she’d imagined possible. She’d been drawn to the red sequins which sparkled on the bodice, and the jaunty single shoulder which had slashed red across her pale skin. But now she wondered and looked down at the silk of the floor-length dress. ‘It is not too much, is it?’

‘Too much,’ he said in a husky tone as he stepped closer and lifted her chin with his fingers, forcing her to look into his handsome face. ‘You look beautiful.’

‘Thank you.’ She shyly accepted his compliment and stepped back, away from temptation. All she could think of was kissing him again, feeling his arms pressing her against his hard body. But she couldn’t; she had to remain aloof, keep him at a distance. He’d already proved what he was capable of doing to her. ‘I’m glad you approve.’

He didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to; the intensity in his dark eyes told her he more than approved. His gaze was so hot she could hardly breathe and she caught her bottom lip between her teeth.

‘We had better go.’ A ripple of awareness cascaded through her as his deep, sensual voice left her in no doubt that he wanted to kiss her, that he too was fighting an attraction so strong the outcome now seemed inevitable.

‘Yes.’ Aware how husky her voice had become, she moved quickly towards the door, the silk of her dress moulding to her legs as she moved. He followed her, his shoes beating a purposeful rhythm on the marble floor.

Whatever it was that had simmered between them that first afternoon in her garden had ignited spectacularly, threatening to engulf them at any second. She drew in a deep breath as she realised she wanted the increasing desire to burn freely between them. After several years of pushing men away, using her off-camera tomboy image to discourage male attention, this was what she now wanted. Was it just lust or was she ready to risk her heart again?

He shut the door of his apartment with a resounding bang which echoed in the coolness of the marble hallway, startling her and knocking all those tempting thoughts out of her mind. She turned to face him. ‘Is something wrong?’

Purposefully, he walked towards her, stopping so close she could smell the heady scent of his aftershave, feel his breath on her face. She looked up at him and swallowed hard against the urge to kiss him.