Claimed by the Wealthy Magnate - Page 3
‘OK. One drink.’
He held out a hand. ‘I’m Daniel.’
The woman hesitated a moment before reaching her hand out to his. ‘Lynette.’
* * *
Half an hour later, seated across from Daniel in the cool anonymity of the elegant yet highly functional hotel bar, Kaitlin sipped the last of her pomegranate cooler. The non-alcoholic blend of sweet and sour was exactly what she’d needed to revive her.
Come on, Kaitlin.
It wasn’t the beverage, nor the comfort of the cream-cushioned round-backed seats, nor even the vivid splash of bright yellow flower arrangements—it was the man.
Daniel lacked her brother’s classic handsomeness—the slight crook to his nose indicated that it might well have been broken once, and his features were craggy rather than aquiline—but in sheer presence he could rival Gabriel, even if the latter was the Earl of Wycliffe.
He projected a raw energy—a force that showed in the intense blue of his eyes, the jut of his jaw, the sheer focus he bestowed on her. It was a focus underlain with a pull of attraction that caused a warning bell to toll in the dim recesses of her brain that knew the sheer scale of the stupidity of all this.
Attraction was a tug she couldn’t afford to feel—an emotion that in truth she had never felt. The blight, she assumed, was a result of her childhood trauma.
Stop, Kaitlin. Don’t go there.
The kidnap was an experience she had done her best to suppress, and she had every intention of keeping it buried in the deepest, darkest depths of her psyche, never to surface. After all she had created her safe, controlled Lady Kaitlin persona to achieve that exact obliteration of her memory banks.
‘Another drink?’ he asked, and his deep voice caressed her skin like velvet and decadent chocolate. ‘Or how about dinner?’
‘Thank you.’
But no—they were the words she knew she should say. Each minute she spent with Daniel increased the risk of recognition, the possibility that she would slip up and reveal her true identity. That would be a disaster—her parents would be incoherent with anger if Lady Kaitlin Derwent was revealed to have been picked up by a stranger in a Barcelona bar. Because—and she might as well face it—if she agreed to dinner this would no longer be a ‘medical’ interlude. It would move into different territory altogether. An unfamiliar minefield of a terrain. So...
‘But I don’t want to disrupt your plans. I’m fine now. Thank you for coming to my rescue.’
‘I have no plans.’ There was a bleak note in his voice under the casual disclaimer.
‘You must have had some plans,’ she countered. ‘You were on your way somewhere when you ran into me.’
‘Nowhere specific. Wherever the night took me.’
His shoulders lifted and her gaze snagged on their breadth. Once again awareness struck—an undercurrent that swirled between them across the square glass-topped table.
‘So what do you say?’
‘I...I shouldn’t.’
‘Why not?’ Ice-blue eyes met hers. ‘Is anyone else expecting you?’
‘No.’
‘So you’re here alone?’
Kaitlin hesitated...couldn’t face the complications involved in a full explanation. And, anyway, to all intents and purposes she was alone. ‘Yes.’
‘You’re sure?’
‘Yes.’
‘Then how about dinner? No strings. We’re two people alone in a vibrant city and I could do with some company.’
The words held a ring of truth, and for a moment she wondered what demons he wanted to hold at bay.
Source: readsnovelonline.net