Claimed by the Wealthy Magnate
‘So here I am.’
‘Here you are and here’s to you, Kaitlin.’ He held up his glass. ‘To your strength and determination.’
Shyness mingled with appreciation of his words and brought heat to her cheeks. ‘Thank you. And thank you for listening.’
Sharing the experience that had clouded her life for so long had drained her, and yet it had also brought her a strange feeling of peace.
‘Now, I’m ready to go back to the hotel—if that’s OK with you?’
‘Of course it is.’
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
THEY WALKED BACK to the hotel in a silence that held comfort and an inevitable closeness. Daniel walked close to her, felt a surge of protectiveness towards this woman who was so much more than he could have imagined. The idea of what she had gone through fuelled anger inside him—at the staff member who had betrayed a young girl’s trust, at the kidnappers themselves, and at the Duke and Duchess for their reactions. For allowing their daughter to take the blame for an atrocity perpetrated by others, for not giving her any help or sympathy or understanding.
‘It’s all right.’ Kaitlin looked up at him, her face illuminated in the moonlight. ‘I’m OK. I didn’t tell you what I told you because I want you to be angry on my behalf. It’s done.’
‘Hey... You aren’t meant to be comforting me!’
‘I’m not. If I’m honest, I like it that you’re angry on my behalf, because no one else ever has been. But I don’t want your blood pressure to skyrocket whilst you brood on it.’
‘It just makes me mad that they got away with it—that they are out there somewhere.’
‘I have to believe that what goes around comes around—that karma will take care of them.’ She moved a little closer to him. ‘But now I think we should be enjoying Venice by moonlight.’
As they walked the magic of Venice seemed to swirl around them—the majesty of the darkened streets swathed in moonlight, the occasional sound of oars on the canal breaking the stillness alongside the laughter of a late-night reveller. And subtly the atmosphere changed. Daniel’s anger faded away and the balm of the evening breeze, the rose scent she emanated, seemed to cast a spell he knew he should try and dispel.
But he couldn’t. As they approached St Mark’s Square—now nigh on deserted, vast and truly breathtaking in its illuminated splendour—it wasn’t possible not to turn and pull her into his arms.
And as if Kaitlin felt exactly the same way—as if she too had been imbued by the same magical allure—she stood on tiptoe, her green eyes wide with wonder as she touched her lips to his.
That was all he had meant it to be—a brush of the lips—but her closeness, the warmth of her body, the taste of her lips, spun him into a vortex of desire and he deepened the kiss.
Kaitlin gave a small moan as her lips parted and he was lost. He tightened his arms around her, gathered her body flush against his. Need jolted his body as she twined her arms around his neck and whispered his name. Time lost all meaning as passion captivated them in an embrace that rocked his body and consumed his mind.
Until finally some small fragment of sense pervaded the enchantment, reminded him of who she was and gently he pulled away.
They stared at each other for a long moment, their ragged breaths mingling in the air.
Eventually she looked around and let out a sigh. ‘We must have been mad, but right now I don’t care.’
Her lips turned up in a smile so beautiful his breath caught.
‘So what now?’
‘That’s up to you.’ However much he wanted her, the decision had to be hers.
Her step was sure as she moved towards him. ‘We have one more night—I want to make the most of it. Of this.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘I’m sure. It’s a risk worth taking. If the reporters find out, so be it. I want this night. With you. If that’s what you want too.’
‘It is exactly what I want.’
A small, breathless laugh dropped from her lips. ‘Then let’s go.’
The short walk back to their hotel was achieved at a half-run, his urge to hold her hand restrained only by the knowledge that there was a chance that reporters and guests for the ball the following night might already have arrived.