Зона победы. Джеффри Мур

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      Having exchanged the sexy satin suit for the sombre black and white uniform she wore as a server, Jen squeezed her way through the customers clustered around the bar.

      ‘Excuse me—’ She inhaled sharply as a man barred her way.

      Jen’s body reacted violently with approval. Too tanned and fit to be a regular at the club, he was tall, dark and swarthy, with thick, wavy black hair, and an unwavering stare. Lean and muscular, he was ferociously commanding. Maybe he was someone important. He certainly had shedloads of presence, but there was something about him that made her shiver inwardly.

      He was brutally masculine. That had to be it, Jen reasoned. And she thought she knew him from somewhere. He’d been leaning against a pillar watching her dance tonight, and they’d exchanged a couple of glances—his interested, hers a warning to keep off the grass. But now she could see him close up, she wondered if she’d seen him before at the club.

      ‘I’d appreciate having a word with you in private,’ he said.

      ‘Me?’ She had been glancing round for Tess, thinking an important visitor would ask for the manager.

      ‘Yes, you. Alone.’

      He might be the most attractive man she’d ever seen, but a private interview wasn’t going to happen. ‘I’m sorry, but I have to work.’

      He didn’t take well to her flat-out refusal. As one sweeping ebony brow rose in disapproval she was already looking for a member of the security staff.

      ‘You won’t need them,’ he said, as if he could read her mind. ‘I don’t mean you any harm.’

      ‘I should hope not,’ she said, forcing a laugh into her voice. ‘Sorry, but I really do have to go now.’ She stared past him towards the restaurant, but he remained like a roadblock in her way.

      ‘I’ve paid a lot of money to have dinner with you.’

      ‘Oh, it’s you,’ she said, remembering the ten thousand. And now she remembered why he was familiar to her.

      She raised a brow as his bold stare swept over her, heating every part of her on the way. ‘You’re Italian, aren’t you?’ she said.

      His eyes warmed briefly. ‘Sicilian, to be exact.’

      That was right. She’d got it now. ‘Very glamorous,’ she said distractedly as she thought what this might mean.

      ‘Hardly,’ he said.

      But arrogant, she thought. Meanwhile, her body was going crazy. He exuded pheromones like room haze. Celibacy had become a habit Jen had seen no reason to break. She was certainly paying for those years of denial now.

      He frowned as he angled his stubble-shaded chin to stare down at her. ‘What makes you think Sicilians are glamorous?’

      ‘Oh, you know...’ She waved her hand airily. ‘Sicily seems such a glamorous destination—the fabulous scenery on the island, the emerald-green sea, the sandy beaches, the Godfather—’

      ‘That’s a fantasy,’ he cut in.

      ‘I do know that. Look, is there anything else I can do for you before I go to work?’

      ‘Yes. Confirm our dinner date,’ he said.

      ‘Well, I’m afraid it can’t be tonight. I’m really sorry, but I’m sure we can work something out.’ She hoped he’d take the hint and move on—arrange something with Tess, or with Jay-Dee. He didn’t move. He remained squarely in her way. ‘You could speak to the casino manager, Tess, about your prize. She’s right over there by the door.’ She turned and pointed.

      ‘I’d rather talk to you,’ he said in a way that made all the tiny hairs on the back of her neck stand erect.

      There was no give in him at all, and he had paid a lot of money that would go to Jen’s favourite charity. She mustn’t do anything to jeopardise that.

      ‘Just a few moments of your time,’ he said with a faint smile that couldn’t rub out her first impression that he looked like a pirate on a raid, though he’d shaved recently and she wasn’t sure if pirates had access to razors. Nor did they wear custom-made suits, she thought, though with those shoulders she doubted he could buy anything off the peg.

      ‘Something amusing you?’

      ‘I’m just a little tense,’ she admitted, drunk on the faintest hint of his exclusive cologne. ‘I’m going to be late for work.’

      ‘Surely, they’ll forgive you this once? You have been otherwise occupied.’

      ‘And now the auction’s over, and we’re short-handed tonight.’

      ‘Pity.’

      His lips pressed down in the most attractive way, and his stare was warm on her face. But...from the collar of his handmade shirt, to the tip of his highly polished shoes he radiated money, power, and success. So why was an affluent, good-looking Sicilian prepared to fork out ten thousand for a date with a waitress? Surely he could take his pick from a long line of society beauties? Or did he just have a big, charitable heart, and had happened to call in at the club by chance?

      She was getting a bad feeling about this.

      He reminded her of Raoul Tebaldi, a compulsive gambler Jen had come to know at the club. Everyone knew that Raoul was the son of a man who had been a notorious gangster in his day, but Jen had come to like the quiet Sicilian. She’d lost her sister, and Raoul was estranged from his family. The distance from his brother had hurt him most of all, because they had been close when they were young. This sense of loss had given them a bond, and they’d become close. Jen had looked forward to seeing Raoul each night at the club, but he hadn’t been around for quite some time. A pang of dread struck her now, at the thought that something might have happened to Raoul, but, seeing the maître d’ beckoning to her out of the corner of her eye, she knew she had to cut this short.

      ‘I promise we’ll have dinner another night,’ she assured the Sicilian stranger.

      ‘I can’t wait long,’ he said.

      Jen’s heart leapt in her chest, though she told herself sensibly that what he meant was that he would be leaving London soon, and not that he was impatient to see her.

      ‘I won’t let you down,’ she promised.

      His narrowed eyes suggested she’d better not. ‘Let’s make our dinner at a time and a place of my choosing,’ he suggested. ‘And then it will be a surprise.’

      ‘It should be here,’ she said. ‘That’s what you’ve paid for.’

      ‘So long as we make a date before I leave,’ he conceded, not wanting to put her off by appearing harsh.

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