He raised speculative brows as he opened the white wine cooling in the galley, revealing none of the pleasure he felt at hearing her use his given name for the first time. ‘I wasn’t complaining. I merely wish to be pre-warned if that is the case.’
She looked more flustered than ever. ‘I didn’t accept your invitation—I’m only here because you promised to give me information about my father,’ she reminded him flatly.
‘All the while knowing how much I want you.’
‘I was only—I didn’t—Why do you always have to turn everything back to—?’
‘My wanting you?’ Gregorio finished softly. ‘Perhaps because possessing you has obsessed my mind for some time now.’
She snorted. ‘I find that very hard to believe!’
He poured the wine into two glasses before pushing one towards her, an indication that she should drink some of it. ‘That I want you? Or that I have thought of you constantly since I first saw you?’
‘I was engaged to another man!’
Gregorio gave a brief glance at her bare left hand. ‘An engagement is not a marriage.’
‘Obviously not,’ she acknowledged heavily. ‘But I find it difficult to believe you felt an instant attraction to a woman you had only just met.’
‘Possibly because you prefer to continue believing me a man capable of hounding people to their deaths.’
She winced at this reminder of her earlier accusations. ‘Talking of possessing someone—me—isn’t exactly normal behaviour,’ she defended.
‘You would prefer that I flatter and seduce you with words before I attempt to make love to you?’
‘That’s the way it’s usually done, yes.’
He gave a dismissive shake of his head. ‘I have no time for such games.’
‘And, personally, I would prefer it if you never referred to the subject again.’
‘Then you are lying to yourself.’
‘You—’
‘Would you like me to show you how much you are lying?’
‘No!’ Lia could see the raw passion burning in his dark gaze.
He drew in a deep breath as he continued to study her for several long seconds. ‘Drink some of your wine,’ he finally encouraged huskily.
‘And you call me bossy!’ She eyed him impatiently.
He studied her over the rim of his glass as he took a sip of what proved to be a very good glass of white wine. He waited until Mancini had served their first course before speaking again. ‘You believe me to be a male chauvinist?’
She grimaced. ‘Maybe it’s just a cultural difference?’
‘You do not believe that any more than I do,’ he observed dryly. ‘And you should have met my father—compared to him I am a fully enlightened man who believes in equal opportunity for all three sexes.’
‘He’s...no longer with you?’
‘Neither of my parents is still alive.’ Gregorio inwardly berated himself for unthinkingly introducing the painful subject of the death of a parent. ‘My father believed it was my mother’s role to be a wife to him and to bring up their three sons.’
‘And you don’t?’
Lia took her glass of wine. Their conversation was far too personal for her liking. Combining that with how casually dressed Gregorio was this evening, this situation—the private jet, the personal chef—was all too disturbing for her peace of mind.
‘My mother ensured my two brothers and I have a more modern attitude.’ Gregorio shrugged. ‘For instance, she insisted all of us learn how to cook.’