She's On Top. Susan Lyons

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СКАЧАТЬ you must be surrounded by beautiful women.”

      He shook his head. “I’m surrounded by girls who are trying desperately to create an image, an illusion, that appeals to their target audience.” He shrugged. “Not the company I would choose to share—” He broke off as a waiter lifted the champagne bottle from the ice bucket, then finished, with a smile at the waiter—“a peaceful meal in a fine Italian restaurant.”

      What had Giancarlo been going to say? From that gleam in his eye, she’d guessed he was thinking about a long, sweaty, passionate night in bed.

      The waiter poured the last of the champagne into both their glasses. “Another bottle?”

      “No,” Rina quickly protested.

      “We need something to drink with our dinner,” Giancarlo said. “How about a glass of white wine, to go with your salmon?” When she nodded he asked the waiter what was available by the glass. Rina chose a pinot grigio and Giancarlo picked a chianti classico to go with his lasagne.

      When the waiter went to get their wine, Giancarlo raised his champagne glass to Rina. “No, I can think of no woman I’d rather share an Italian meal with, or a glass of champagne. Or any of the things that, if a man is very lucky, may come after.”

      Rina knew her cheeks were rosy from his suggestion, and her own arousal. So was her chest, now bare of the draped scarf. She really must have had too much wine, because damned if the man didn’t come across as genuine. Helplessly she raised her glass to click it gently against his. “To sharing,” she murmured.

      Quickly she added, “Dinner, I mean. And talk. That’s it, for now. We don’t even know each other anymore. Okay, maybe there’s an attraction—”

      His knowing smile made her falter. Yes, there was no question she craved the man, and it seemed as if, by some miracle, he was attracted too.

      “But,” she went on firmly, “that’s not enough. We’re probably not even compatible anymore.”

      Another meaningful grin made her flush. “Damn it, I meant as people,” she said. “Not as l-lovers. I’m not going to bed with someone I barely know.”

      Besides, Al had proposed to her and she hadn’t given him her answer.

      Although…didn’t she know the answer?

      The girls had told her she had to see her old lover before she’d be sure how she felt about marrying Al. And now she knew.

      Sparks. Yes, they flew through her body whenever Giancarlo touched her, when his gaze even lit on her. Passion? Yes, if erect nipples and the burning ache between her thighs were any indication. Romance? What could possibly be more romantic than the most handsome man in the world toasting her, Rina Goldberg, with French champagne?

      If she didn’t seize this opportunity, she might never have the chance again.

      And yet, she’d never been the kind of woman who could date, much less sleep with, two men at the same time.

      “Damn,” she muttered.

      “Sorry?”

      She shook her head. “Nothing.” Just the end of a caring friendship that quite possibly might have turned into a companionable, even loving marriage. But no, she wasn’t willing to settle. She wanted those damned sparks. Wanted the kind of passionate romance her girlfriends had found.

      Even if only for one night.

      Even if it was only a fantasy, an illusion, a creation of a charmer who was here today but might be gone tomorrow.

      She was a fool. Al was a good man, a forever kind of man. They could have worked out that issue about him getting pushy when he didn’t get his way. How could she hurt him, cast him away for a crazy, enchanted fling with a man like Giancarlo?

      Because, for her, there were no other men like Giancarlo. When she’d been a girl, she’d loved her time with him but hadn’t realized how truly amazing it was. Hadn’t known theirs would remain the standard against which she measured other relationships. A standard that had yet to be topped.

      This was too confusing. She’d always believed in the romantic idea of The One. That for each woman there was one special man. She was almost twenty-seven and Giancarlo was the only man who’d ever felt special to her—and it had happened twice now.

      Still, she reminded herself firmly, he wasn’t The One for the long term. She didn’t want a crassly commercial jet-setter any more than he’d want her. But if he was offering her romance, passion and fantastic sex for even just a night…

      Was she utterly insane to consider it?

      “Rina, what’s wrong?”

      Inside her head, she bid a quiet good-bye to Al. She’d make it official tomorrow, but for her they were broken up as of this moment.

      Raising both hands, she dragged her hair back from the sides of her face. “This wasn’t what I expected when I came tonight.”

      “What did you expect, cara?” he asked gently.

      Clenching her hair, she thought about his question. She hadn’t expected him to be so handsome. Or to come on to her. Nor had she anticipated finding him so impossible to resist.

      She released her hair and it sprang free. “A high school reunion,” she said wryly. “Where people who used to be best friends no longer have anything in common. Where the chat is superficial and forced and there’s just no…” She shrugged. “No connection anymore.”

      “And here we most definitely have a connection.” There wasn’t an ounce of uncertainty in his heated gaze, the conviction in his voice.

      “Yes,” she admitted softly.

      A smile of delight split his face. “I’m so glad you feel it too. Now, stop fighting it and just enjoy. Yes?”

      “I’ll try. We’ll talk, eat dinner, see where things go.”

      Even as she spoke to Giancarlo, a part of her was still worrying about Al. How could she have led the poor guy on—to the point he’d propose—then reject him?

      But she hadn’t meant to lead him on. Every step of the way, she’d been honest. She’d never told him she loved him. Maybe he’d assumed it, because she slept with him.

      Not a mistake Giancarlo would ever make. If—big if—she did go to bed with him.

      “You’re still worried about something,” he said softly. “Something more than tonight.”

      She nodded. “There’s something I need to do. Something unpleasant, and sad. It’s going to be very hard.”

      “I’m sorry. Can I help in any way?”

      The more she looked at him, the more she saw the boy he’d been. The engaging tilt to his head, the way unruly curls tumbled over his forehead.

      She smiled across at him. “I have to do this on my own. But thank you.”

      “Can you do this СКАЧАТЬ