Chapter 35

'A c-compliment?'

'It is certainly not an insult, bella mia.'

'But I don't want to marry you!'

'I'm becoming fascinated by what must go on in your subconscious mind,' he confessed huskily.

God, he was incredibly attractive. He could talk his way round a lynch mob, she conceded in panic. What she was experiencing right now came down to hormones. That was all. Luc was turning up the heat, stalking her like the pure-bred predator he was. If she lost her head for a second, she would be flat on her back on that bed. Somehow he contrived to say the most outrageous things charmingly. Or maybe it was just that her brain had packed up in disgust at her own frailty.

'You can't persuade me differently with sex either!' she asserted, her spine meeting unexpectedly with a wall that concluded her retreat.

Dancing golden eyes, alight with mockery, arrowed over her. He took her glass from her hand and set it aside. 'We don't have sex, we have intensely erotic experiences,' he countered, his wine-dark voice savouring the syllables.

'Sex!' She hurled the reiteration like a forcefield behind which she might hide. 'And I'm not some tramp…Are you listening to me?'

'I might listen if you say something I want to hear, but you've been rather remiss in that department this afternoon.' Instead of moving closer, he stayed where he was, confusing her. 'And I'm not about to make it easy for you by persuading you into bed.'

She straightened from the wall jerkily, no longer under threat, pink flying into her cheeks. 'You couldn't persuade me.'

'I wouldn't try. I'm saving you up for an intensely erotic experience tomorrow night,' he murmured softly, before closing the door behind him.

She darted after him and turned the key. Then she slumped. Heavens, he was so modest, such a shrinking violet. Wiping her damp forehead, she lay down on the bed, acknowledging, now that he was gone, just how much the past hours of stormy emotion had taken out of her. She had time for a nap before dinner.

She was terribly hot and sticky and thirsty when she woke up. Filling a glass to the brim with flat champagne, she drank it down much as she would have treated lemonade. Had someone been banging on the door a while ago, or was that her imagination?

Nobody's victim, eh? Her earlier fighting thoughts came back to haunt her. Luc had walked the last round. He had switched back to the intimate playful mood of the last few days and she hadn't expected that; she hadn't been prepared. He was in for a heck of a shock when she took her leave at the airport. He hadn't given serious consideration to a single thing she said. Her temper sparked again.

It maddened her to have to admit it, but hating Luc did not make her immune to his physical attraction. It was a hangover from the bad old days—what else could it be? Once she had believed he was a bit like the measles. If you caught him once, you couldn't catch him again.

Evidently the chemistry didn't work like that. Here she was, in full possession of her senses, no longer the doormat doppelg;auanger of recent days, and still she was vulnerable. It enraged her. When he had taken that glass from her and she had thought…she had been in the act of melting down the wall in anticipation.

Pacing about the room in a temper, she helped herself to more champagne. When she had loved Luc, she had just about been able to live with the effect he had on her. When she didn't even like him, never mind love him, it was inexcusable. And as for him—what he deserved was a cheap little tramp, the sort of female prepared to barter sexual favours for his bank balance, the sort of female he ought to understand. That was exactly what he deserved…

She was rifling the dressing-room when the banging on the door interrupted her. Opening it a crack, she found Guilia, for some reason backed by Bernardo, who was holding a large bunch of keys. Her maid looked all hot and flushed and anxious.

'I won't be needing any help tonight. Grazie, Guilia.'

'But signorina—'

'Dinner will be served in one half-hour,' Bernardo said with a look of appeal.

'I'm sorry, but dinner will have to wait.' Catherine shut the door again. Didn't they all speak great English? When she recalled the sign language she had been reduced to using several times during the week, she cursed Luc. Why had Bernardo looked so shattered at the idea of dinner's having to be held back?

Luc would probably create. Well, so what? It would do him no harm to cool his heels for once. He would appreciate her appearance all the more when she did wander in. Dinner, she decided fiercely, would be fun…fun…fun! However, lest the staff receive the blame for her tardiness, she would be as q

uick as she possibly could be.

The shimmering tunic top of a black evening suit was extracted from the wardrobe first. It would just cover her hips and, if she wore it back to front, the neckline would be equally abbreviated. Sheer black stockings, no problem. She had every colour of the rainbow. A very high pair of black court shoes were withdrawn next and finally a pair of long black gloves.

Dressed, she walked a slightly unsteady line into the bathroom to go to town on her face. Sapphire and violet outlined her eyes dramatically. Putting on loads of blue mascara, she dabbed gold glitter on her cleavage and traced her lips with strawberry pink. She was starting to enjoy herself. Having moussed her hair into a wild, messy tangle, she went through her jewellery.

She had three diamond bracelets. One went on an ankle, the other two on her wrists over the gloves. A necklace and earrings completed the look. Sort of Christmassy. It was astonishing how cheap diamonds could look when worn to excess. And her wardrobe, shorn of Guilia, had far more adventurous possibilities than Luc could ever have dreamt. The reflection that greeted her in the mirror was satisfyingly startling.

She picked a careful passage down the staircase, aware that she had been a little free with the champagne. Bernardo literally couldn't take his eyes from her as she crossed the hall. He froze, stared, tugged at his tie.

'Evening, Bernardo,' she carolled on her way past. 'It's a hot night, isn't it?'

And it's about to get hotter, she forecast with inner certainty. Abruptly, Bernardo flashed in front of her, spreading wide both doors of the salon. 'Signorina Parrish.'

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