Название: Surrendering To The Italian's Command
Автор: KIM LAWRENCE
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Современные любовные романы
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It didn’t seem a very realistic statement, considering the unhealthy sheen of perspiration on her pale skin, but he approved of positive thinking, especially when the option was having an unconscious female on his hands.
‘Breathe deeply, in and out...no, not too deeply.’ He steadied her violent sway and left his arm around her waist while he pulled out his phone. He wondered if his plan to fly directly back to Rome was still realistic. ‘That’s better...’
She’d thought his eyes were brown, and they were incredibly dark, but now as he captured and held her gaze she realised they were midnight blue, like the night sky, and flecked with tiny points of silver that glittered like stars. From nowhere the phrase soul stripping came into her head, though actually clinical was more accurate.
She moistened her dry, cracked lips with her tongue and nodded. ‘I’m fine now.’
She looked a million miles from fine. ‘My car is coming. Where do you live?’
Tess, her heart still pounding though now with relief and not terror, heard herself recite her address like some obedient lost child. ‘I don’t need a lift. It’s just around the corner.’ What else was around the corner? Bonkers Ben? She shuddered. The mocking nickname no longer worked in making him seem harmless and absurd. He’d been waiting for her...watching? Was he still watching?
The realisation he could extract himself from this little drama sooner rather than later sent a surge of relief through Danilo and for a split second he was sorely tempted to accept the rejection at face value.
Then she looked over her shoulder, the movement fear-filled and furtive—hell!
‘It’s on my way.’
‘It is?’ She suspected it was a lie but wasn’t about to call him on it. The thought of meeting up with her stalker sent a shudder through her.
Concern roughened the edges of his voice as he said softly, ‘You’re safe now.’
His voice pulled her back from the brink of panic; the unexpected gentleness in it made her want to cry.
‘Please don’t be nice,’ she begged. ‘I’ll cry. I know I’m being...’ Pathetic. ‘I’m not normally so—’ Tess brought her teeth down on her wobbling lower lip and blinked back weak tears. ‘He... Ben... He isn’t my boyfriend. He just thinks he is.’
Danilo dismissed her explanation with a shrug of his broad shoulders. ‘Not my business.’ And he had no desire to make it his business, he reminded himself, turning his head as his sister’s features superimposed themselves over the pale, pinched face of this young woman, producing a familiar knife thrust of guilt that he didn’t try to evade.
‘I have a sister not that much younger than you.’ The woman was a little older than he had first assumed. ‘And I hope if she ever needed—’ His sister had needed and he hadn’t been there.
The woman took a deep breath and Danilo’s habitual objectivity slipped as he watched her attempt to regain control. The effort to straighten her slender shoulders sent a jerky convulsive ripple through her entire body; the air left her lungs in a long gusty sigh, but not the tension.
Heavy lids shadowing his stare, Danilo was torn between reluctant admiration and irritation, his irritation reserved for the protective instincts he felt shift and tighten in his chest as a solitary tear escaped the swimming eyes lifted to his. Things got tighter as he watched it slide slowly down her cheek. He had never seen eyes quite that shade of golden amber before.
Her eyes, almond-shaped and framed by thick, spiky black lashes, lifted her face from plain. They were extraordinary. Still, she was not his responsibility.
‘Well, thank you. I’d be grateful if it’s not out of your way, but I’ll be fine now—really.’
The delivery started firm and slowly faded, ending on a definite wobble. She looked at him with eyes that made him think of the runt of the litter of golden retrievers his father’s favourite dog had produced.
Danilo, promised first choice of the puppies, had, against all advice, chosen the sickly-looking one who everyone had warned would not survive. But that little animal had gnawed its way into his heart with those eyes.
The dog had survived and was still rewarding his decision with unconditional love, though her coat was less glossy than it had been before she’d got old and stiff.
‘But if perhaps you could walk with me, if you’re heading that way?’ Tess was shaking again, her body seized by inner tremors she had no control over. She didn’t shrug off the hand that came to rest gently against her shoulder blades. She was glad of the contact while recognising she was acting like the sort of woman she despised: weak, malleable and in need of male support. And this particular male had an attitude that normally would have got under her skin.
Cut yourself a break, Tess, you’ve got the flu and you’ve had a run-in with your unhinged stalker.
‘I’M TESS.’ IT SEEMED only good manners to tell the man who had saved her from a situation that could have ended up with her being a crime statistic her name.
‘Raphael, Danilo Raphael.’
An angel’s name. Appropriate given the circumstances, though her guardian angel had the physical appearance of the fallen variety.
They had reached the end of the alley, where she hesitated. Danilo walked past her and out onto the identical-Victorian-house-lined street. ‘Right or left?’
Tess didn’t immediately respond because she was doing yet another mental regrade of his position on the gorgeous scale! She pressed a hand to her chest to alleviate the breathless sensation.
There were a number of people who could look pretty good in subdued light but a lot less that could look good spotlighted by the artificially white blanching glare of a street lamp. Her fallen angel could take the unkind illumination, probably because there was not a plane or angle on his crushingly handsome face that didn’t deserve to be lit up. It was flawless.
But he was not just a pretty face—the rest of him looked pretty awesome too. This was a man who didn’t need good lighting or perfect tailoring to set him apart from his fellow men!
As she paused, mouth slightly ajar, he raised a darkly defined brow questioningly. A slither of liquid heat washed through her, the effects of the fever obviously, as she gave her head a tiny shake and, feeling embarrassed, she stepped out, glancing nervously over her shoulder before tilting her head back to reply to his question.
It struck her for the first time that if she were looking for danger, then in a line-up she would dismiss the mild-looking, bespectacled creep who had been stalking her for the past months. Raphael, on the other hand, was not a man anyone would dismiss. He was the living, breathing photofit image of dark, brooding and dangerous to know.
Not just because he was a hundred feet tall and hard—he’d lifted Bonkers Ben as though he were a rag doll! Her stomach gave a tiny flip as she recalled the tensile strength in the fingers that had curved around her upper arm. This man had a dangerous vibe.
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