Affairs Of The Heart: The Italian Boss's Secret Child. Rebecca Winters

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СКАЧАТЬ so that she came closer to his body, closer to the source of that heat, as he gestured to the dimly lit dance floor beyond. ‘Dance with me.’

      She didn’t have to think about whether or not she should; her feet drifted after him of their own accord, her plan to exit all but forgotten. He led her to the dance floor and drew her into his arms, his hand at her back anchoring her close, his other hand wrapped around hers, securing it close to his shoulder, his wide shoulder, the armour enhancing his masculine form.

      ‘You’re beautiful,’ he said, his voice low and husky.

      His words tripped her heartbeat. Beautiful. No one had told her that for a very long time. She had to remember to breathe and when she did it was with a gasp that immediately rewarded her with the scent of him—masculine, clean and enriched with the smell of leather. But not just his scent. She was sure she could just about taste him.

      He started swaying to the song, taking her with him, their bodies moving in unison as the music took them away.

      Heaven. This must be what heaven was like. Sheer bliss. She closed her eyes, allowing herself to be carried along by the music and by the man who held her in his arms with such strength, yet such tenderness.

      Suddenly he stopped. She blinked her eyes open, the music still playing, and saw Damien’s head swivelled to the side. He was talking to someone; it looked like a geisha but the voice was unmistakably Enid’s. She caught a snatch of her words here and there—London—crisis—and Damien rattled off something in response and the geisha disappeared.

      He turned his face back to hers, the line of his mouth grim, tension replacing the liquid heat she’d felt within his grasp.

      ‘I have to take a phone call.’

      His arms continued to surround her and he stared at her as if he was wavering between the phone call and the woman in his arms. ‘I’ll be back. Ten minutes max.’ He hesitated. ‘Maybe twenty.’

      She looked up at him, his face so close to her own, and she knew she would wait forever if it meant feeling like this again. Then he dipped his head and his lips brushed hers, so gently that his breath was as much a part of the kiss, as much a part of the sensation, as his lips.

      ‘So beautiful,’ he whispered, his voice suddenly rougher. ‘Wait for me.’ He smiled and let her go.

      And then he was gone.

      It was like being in a vacuum. Damien had gone, all too quickly, and she felt cold, suddenly bereft of his heat. But he’d be back. He’d promised he’d be back. And that knowledge started the warmth pooling inside her all over again.

      For a moment longer she stood, all by herself, in the centre of the crowded dance floor, couples jostling for space all around until she realised she had to move.

      Ten minutes, he’d said. Maybe twenty. Where should she wait for him? How would he find her?

      She made her way to the bar, ordered a mineral water and held the iced glass to her cheeks, trying to think about the time, trying not to think about the time. How many minutes now—five?—ten? She wanted to be back in his arms and every minute he was away felt like for ever.

      The band finished its set and the dancers dispersed as someone took over the microphone. A stand-up comic. Good. At least that might take her mind off the time.

      Damien cursed, loud and emphatic, before turning the microphone on the speaker telephone back up. It was worse than he’d thought. Enid sat nearby, armed with pen and paper and tactfully ignoring his comments, her delicately made-up white face giving nothing away.

      He raked a hand through his hair, waiting for someone to pick up, snagging it on the mask. He tore it off, flinging it down on the desk of the makeshift office. It was actually a storeroom but with her usual efficient style Enid had already organised a couple of chairs, a phone and a fax machine. He didn’t need a computer—this was no time for email. He wanted action.

      Of all the times for Delucatek’s United Kingdom agent to collapse. The news had been splashed in London’s Saturday papers and now there were a hundred clients all screaming for help. Okay, these things happened in business. He’d dealt with worse before and no doubt there’d be worse to come, but why did it have to be tonight? Why now? Already he’d been here forty minutes but he wasn’t going anywhere until he’d cornered his agent’s CEO. There were plenty of questions he wanted to ask him.

      He picked up a pencil, tapping it furiously on the table as he waited.

      Strains of laughter drifted in from the nearby auditorium and his mind wandered back to the ball and the woman he’d left behind. She was waiting for him. Or at least he hoped she was.

      He could still feel her in his arms, the magic way her body floated into his, matching his moves and the music so that her sweet body flowed, her curves swaying to the rhythm. How he’d like to feel that body sway to a different rhythm, how he’d like to feel her body dance to a different music, a music they would make together. His body ached just thinking about it. He was a normal man; he liked sex. But it had been a long time since he’d wanted anyone as much as he wanted her.

      There was something about her. Something special. That body, those lush lips. The way she’d come as Cleopatra, Mark Antony’s seductress. That had to be fate.

      He glanced again at his watch. What if she’d found someone else? The thought of her with another man—holding her, dancing with her, maybe even… His teeth ground together. She’d tasted so sweet, so ripe. The mere idea that someone else was sampling her mouth or even something more…

      The pencil in his hand snapped in two.

      At the other end of the line the phone rang out. Damien slammed down the receiver and checked his notes for the next number. He’d track this guy down and get him to take responsibility for this mess if it killed him.

      He wasn’t coming back. The sad truth hit her like a blow to the gut. Almost two hours now. The comedian had finished, the band had done another two brackets, leaving taped music in its wake, and it was clear there was no way Damien was coming back. Either whatever had called him away was taking more time than he’d anticipated or he’d found someone else and changed his mind.

      There was no question as to which scenario was the most likely. She’d been kidding herself to think she was that special.

      It was getting late. She should go home. Staying here longer just increased the feeling of bitterness, the sense of overwhelming loss that gradually but irrevocably gnawed away at her earlier euphoria.

      He wasn’t coming back.

      She had one last look around the ballroom. The party was in full swing and laughter and music filled the air. Her evening hadn’t been a total loss. She’d chatted with a few people, sticking to safe topics like costumes and the party. She’d enjoyed the comedian. Even the lavishly spread tables, covered with all manner of finger food and nibbles, had proved a diversion, at least for her eyes, helping for a little while to take her mind off the time and its passing.

      But now it was time to go home. There was no point staying. She put her glass down and turned towards the exit.

      ‘Would you care to dance with me?’

      She smiled her thanks at the six foot tall kangaroo looking down at her and shook her head. ‘I was just СКАЧАТЬ