She met his eyes and saw in them a direct attack that hadn’t been there before. It both startled and excited her and she couldn’t answer.
When he realised he’d silenced her he changed tack, speaking smoothly, easily, as though to put her at her ease.
‘I’m not quite the calculating monster you think. I had this place cleaned because I wanted you to feel welcome here.’
‘Thank you. I didn’t mean to sound ungrateful. I don’t know how long I’ll be here, but I’ll make the most of it while I am.’
‘Good, then tonight you must let me entertain you.’
‘Another nightclub?’
‘No, we’ll eat here.’
‘But I don’t know my way around that kitchen yet,’ she protested.
‘Leave everything to me.’
‘You cook as well?’
‘Wait and see. I’ll leave you to get settled in, and be back this evening.’
When Vincente had gone she wandered slowly through the apartment, trying to believe that this was the place Ben had bought. Even for him, this grandiose, overblown residence shrieked self-delusion.
Suddenly she no longer knew exactly who she was.
She felt even more strange when she opened her cases and removed what few possessions she had left. They looked inadequate in this splendid setting.
Vincente had spoken of a new life, a new freedom, but it was hard to feel that she belonged here.
Elise yawned, remembering that she’d had no sleep the previous night. Instead she’d lain awake, wondering at the step she was about to take. She’d meant to be so resolute, but when she’d seen Vincente again she’d known in a moment that he could set her determination at nothing.
She’d slipped out in the early hours to pay one last visit to her father’s grave and returned to find Vincente there, tense and surly. She’d responded in the same vein and so their new relationship had gotten off to a craggy start.
Which might be best.
She got under the shower and stood, relishing the water splashing over her, washing away her old life and bringing her, bright and new, into whatever lay ahead.
One wall of the shower was a mirror and she used it to study herself critically. How far away now seemed the girl who’d gone to Rome and fallen passionately in love with a young Italian, then abandoned him to his death. That girl had been slightly plump, with a pretty, innocent, unworldly face.
Now her face was slimmer and more beautiful, her eyes seeming larger by contrast, her full mouth haunted by irony. Her body too had lost weight, perhaps a little too much, or perhaps she was merely honed to perfection, slender in the waist, but with a generous bosom. Any man would say this was a woman created for love. Which was ironic, considering her loveless life.
Then she heard his voice again.
From the start there’d been a mysterious link between them. Now he’d gone to the heart of it, astonishing her with a direct attack.
Elise understood perfectly. He was forcing her to face the sexual attraction that had flared between them, warning her that his patience was running out and she must soon make a decision. It was high-handed, but instead of antagonising her it caused a sense of exhilaration to stream through her.
Now it made her look again at her own body, seeing it with his eyes. Would a man want that smooth creamy skin, those long legs, rounded behind and generous breasts? It was so long since she’d asked herself that question, but she knew by instinct that the answer was yes.
At least it was yes if she’d decided to make him want her. And, as she felt the sweet tremor of anticipation go through her, she knew she’d made that decision long ago.
Elise dried herself and slipped between the smooth sheets of the grandiose master bed. It was blissful to revel in such comfort, to relax and let sleep drift over her.
For hours she lay without moving, letting herself be submerged in her new life, not fighting it now. There were battles ahead and she must summon all her strength to make sure that she was the winner.
When she awoke Vincente was sitting on the bed, watching her.
CHAPTER FOUR
STRANGELY, it wasn’t entirely a surprise to find him there. Some part of her knew that he would never be far away. But she would have given anything to understand the expression in his eyes. There was wariness, and something that was almost calculation, but there was also frank desire. The combination intrigued her.
‘How long have you been there?’ Elise whispered.
‘Only a few moments. I knocked on the front door but there was no reply, so I used the key just once more. I’ll leave it here, at the side.’
‘What time is it?’ she asked.
‘Just past seven.’
‘I’ve slept that long?’ she demanded, startled.
‘I think you needed it. I didn’t want to awaken you.’
She pulled the sheet up higher, vibrantly conscious that she was wearing nothing beneath it. He had only to tug at the material and her nakedness would be revealed. The thought made her skin tingle, and although she clutched the sheet she was also tempted to release it.
‘Don’t hide from me,’ he whispered. ‘There’s nowhere to hide.’
‘Isn’t that for me to say?’ she asked with a touch of rebellion.
As she spoke she tightened her hand on the sheet, but he didn’t try to take it from her. He merely laid his hand on the outside and ran his fingers lightly across her breasts, then let them drift to her waist, where he paused.
He had the cunning of the devil, she realised. The sheet might as well not be there for all the protection it gave. She felt the soft caress of his fingertips back and forth across her stomach and waited for them to go down further, while her heart raced and the breath danced in her throat.
Why didn’t he pull the sheet down and touch her bare skin? But then she knew that he was waiting for her to do it, signifying that she had weakened first. It was a battle of wills and she was damned if she would let him win. But how long could she hold out while her blood raced with excitement? She knew he must be able to read her face.
But then, just when she could feel her will beginning to yield, rescue came in the form of a knock on the outer door. He snatched his hand away, muttering something she couldn’t catch, and walked out quickly, closing the door behind him.
For a moment Elise could do nothing but lie there, her whole body trembling, stunned by what had happened and what she had so nearly done. Suddenly she forced herself to move, scrambling out of bed and groping frantically for something to put on. Anything would do as long as she was dressed before he returned.
She found a pair of elegant black trousers and a white blouse. Then she brushed her hair vigorously and left it loose. She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of seeing her dressed up elaborately. When she was satisfied that her appearance suggested casual indifference, she walked out.
And was taken completely by surprise.
Voices were coming from the kitchen. There she found Vincente and a young man laying out containers of food on the table. They were just finishing as Vincente signed a paper, sending the young man on his way.
‘I see you’re a really great cook,’ she said, amused. ‘All ready prepared.’
‘You do me an injustice. Only the side dishes were prepared by others. The meat I shall cook myself.’
