Master of Passion

'I do, and that is where we are going.'

'Can't you cook?'

'If that is an offer, thanks.' He smiled, and her heart jumped at the easy charm on his face. She was vividly reminded of the first time he had ever smiled at her so long ago. 'But there's no food in the apartment,' he added ruefully.

Half an hour later, sitting opposite Luc at an elegantly laid table in the dining-room of a top London hotel, she stared in amazement as he tucked into a full English breakfast of bacon, eggs, sausage, mushrooms, tomatoes and toast. She sipped from a small china cup what was her fifth dose of coffee that morning, and thought again of his warm smile. He was an odd man.

One minute he had. been furious and the next he had been smiling at her as though they were friends.

'Have you decided?'

Parisa choked on her coffee, and glanced across the table. 'How could you possibly eat all that in the morning?' she asked, trying to change the subject.

'Easy. I'm a big man, in case you hadn't noticed. I have a big appetite...' A lazy smile curved his hard mouth. 'Now answer my question,' he drawled, his gaze resting on her flushed face.

She would go to Italy with him—she had already promised Moya—but, sitting in the hotel dining-room looking at Luc, an attractive, well-fed, relaxed male, she could not help trying to appeal to Ms better nature just once.

'Luc, I can't believe you need money so badly, or that you would break up Moya's engagement for the hell of it. She is very much in love with Simon; they dropped me off at your place today, on their way to buy the wedding rings. Why not give me the photographs and forget about it? Just this once.' She watched his handsome face, hoping to see some kind of acceptance. Instead his jaw tightened, and she noticed a muscle jerk in his cheek.

'"Just this once"...' he drawled cynically. 'Am I supposed to be flattered that you considered appealing to me?' One dark brow arched enquiringly. 'What about all my other victims? Are they no less deserving of my sympathy?'

'I don't care about the rest, Luc. If you'll just forget about Moya, I promise no one will ever hear a word from me about your business,' she said earnestly.

'I'm relieved to hear it,' he told her, his mouth tightening in a thin line. 'But it is no deal. .All I want from you is a "Yes" or "No".'

Parisa looked up sharply, meeting his gaze with angry wide blue eyes… 'Yes, damn you! I will come to Italy with you, for two days. I will pretend to be your fiancée, and on Wednesday I want those photographs.' She stood up. She should have had more sense than to appeal to Luc's better nature. He didn't have one.

'Good. In that case we will follow your friends' example and go shopping for the ring.' Tugging her small hand firmly under his arm, he led her out of the restaurant and to her astonishment stopped at a large black limousine complete with chauffeur, parked outside the hotel.

'Good morning, Mr Di Maggi. Nice to see you again,' the uniformed driver greeted him, opening the rear door.

'Good morning, Johnson.' And as Parisa stood with her mouth hanging open, Luc urged her into the car. She could not understand it: they had taken a taxi to the hotel. 'The jeweler’s, please, Johnson,' he commanded and slid the glass partition between driver and passengers closed, before settling back against the soft leather upholstery.

'My God! Who said crime doesn't pay?' Parisa exclaimed involuntarily, her blue eyes huge as saucers in her beautiful face.

Luc shot her a quelling sidelong glance. I always hire a limousine when I am in London. The parking is so terrible that there is no point in keeping a car. But before we go any further, I want to get one point straight. For the next few days, you will refrain from calling me a criminal. To my friends and family I am a businessman,' he said curtly.

Some business, she thought, but one look at his face and she wisely kept her opinions to herself. Instead she asked, 'Is it really necessary to buy a ring? I don't really have time. I have to go home. I'll need to tell my...' She almost said housekeeper, but stopped in time. I have to pack...' She was babbling, but in the close confines of the car Luc's nearness was vaguely intimidating. No, not vaguely, but seriously intimidating, she thought, shooting him a nervous glance. Her leg burned through the soft hide of her skirt where his muscular thigh pressed against her. Was he doing it deliberately? No, of course not, she told herself, looking out of the window; the car was turning a corner.

'Yes, a ring is essential, and don't worry—I'll take you home. Then I'll know where to collect you on Monday morning,' he said smoothly, adding, 'Unfortunately I have business to attend to tonight and tomorrow or we could have spent the time practicing acting as lovers!' His dark eyes flashed a mocking message, but Parisa did not respond. A vivid image of Luc and Margot Mey in each other's arms flashed in her mind. A cynical smile twisted her full lips. She knew just what his business was this weekend.

If she needed any confirmation she got it at the jeweller's. The assistant greeted Luc with a broad smile. 'Back so soon, Mr Di Maggi? Was there something wrong with the bracelet you bought yesterday?'

Parisa almost laughed out loud. She was forced to go to Italy for the sake of her friend, but she obviously had nothing at all to fear from Luc Di Maggi, as, with a suave smile, he responded to the assistant.

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'No, the bracelet is perfect and I'm sure the lady will appreciate it. But it is rings I wish to see today.'

The assistant gave Parisa an apologetic smile, and some imp of mischief, or maybe it was pure feminine pride, made her declare, 'I want to see your biggest, flashiest costume rings—something that looks like the Koh-i-noor.' She would act like one of his tarty mistresses, and see how he liked it.

The man looked at Luc, and after a brief exchange in Italian and a nod of Luc's dark head the man disappeared and returned a few minutes later with a tray of rings.

Parisa picked the biggest one. It was a huge slightly blue stone and couldn't possibly be real, but she slipped it on her finger and it fitted perfectly.

'I love this one, Luc, darling,' she drawled, turning a patently false smile on her companion.

'Are you sure, Parisa? There is a wide selection.' Luc's dark eyes, glittering with suppressed anger, captured hers.