Sexy Billionaires

by Carol Marinelli

  Alicia tilted her chin. If he didn’t stop staring at her as if she were some kind of alien just landed on planet earth she was going to scream. Thankfully, Signora Pasquale got up and fussed around her. ‘Oh, good. These clothes fit perfectly. They will see you through the next few days and we will have the rest delivered by your plane as soon as they are ready.’ She looked at Dante. ‘This time of the month I presume it’ll be on its usual run?’

  Dante nodded absently. Alicia blanched and looked at the woman. By plane? Dante saw her reaction and stood smoothly, coming over and taking Alicia’s bag, guiding her out of the shop with a hand on her upper arm, burning it.

  In the car she rounded on him. ‘Is a plane really necessary just to bring clothes for me to wear? I mean, really, that is the absolute height of—’

  ‘Alicia—’ his voice was like the crack of a whip ‘—I can afford it and—’

  ‘I don’t—’ she tried to interject, but he raised a hand, stopping her.

  ‘If this is just a facade, a veneer of trendy environmental concern, then give it up now, because I’m not interested. You might try to pretend to others that you didn’t leave your bleeding heart behind in Africa, but you won’t fool me.’

  Alicia gasped. ‘It’s not a veneer or a facade. If you can justify sending an entire airplane into the skies just to bring me some clothes, then go right ahead. And if you can sleep with your conscience, then so be it, but I think it’s disgusting.’

  Dante watched her with fascination. She was leaning forward, face alive, luminous. And all he wanted to sleep with right then was her. Her quick condemnation burned him again but he would not give in to the satisfaction of telling her the truth. Let her stew.

  ‘Well, then, you’d better get ready to be disgusted because we’re on the way to take a helicopter to Lake Como right now. And just remember, you weren’t disgusted when that plane was available to take you back to England at a moment’s notice.’

  She couldn’t tear her eyes away from the censure in his. Yet again he’d managed to make her feel in the wrong.

  She turned her head and looked unseeingly out of the window, her whole body tense and taut. She felt unbelievably exposed in the silky top and flimsy skirt. The silk of the new panties was also an unwelcome sensual reminder every time she moved, of the man who lounged on the seat only inches away. Little had she known that her actions would have brought her to this…back in Italy, to be paraded as Dante D’Aquanni’s newest lover. She might as well be part of the harem of some desert king. What she’d just endured was the equivalent of being washed and sent to his tent.

  Dante ached with the restraint it took not to reach out and haul her into his lap. But he imposed an iron will and he’d just remembered something. Her apparent ease and knowledge of the helicopter must have come from working with them in Africa. It made something uncomfortable lodge in his chest, and for the rest of the journey they were mutually silent.

  The same benignly smiling housekeeper showed Alicia to her room. It was a different one from the one she’d spent that night in. The room she’d been locked in. She tried to hang on to that feeling of outrage as she sat on the bed and looked around, but it was hard. It was fading. Dante had surprised her by showing her where the study was and informing her that she could use it whenever she wanted to call Melanie.

  Then he’d handed her over to the housekeeper, who he’d introduced as Julieta, and informed her that they’d eat at five p.m. He’d told her to make herself at home. A far cry from the last time. She stood somewhat shakily and went to look out of the window. The lake was spread out before her and took her breath away in the early afternoon sunshine.

  Exploring a little, she looked around the room, found the en suite bathroom and then another door. Assuming it to be a dressing room, she opened it, only to find herself in another bedroom. His. She knew it without a doubt. It was huge, dominated by a massive king-size bed. Simple yet discreetly elegant furnishings—not too stark and masculine but enough of a stamp to make it unmistakably male.

  At that moment his door opened and Alicia stood there, her eyes growing round, transfixed when he walked in. He was pulling off his tie, undoing the top button of his shirt and then stopped, seeing her.

  His eyes raked her up and down. Took in her slight form, the jacket gone, the smooth skin of her shoulders bared. Took in her exquisitely shaped calves, her tiny bare feet. She had kicked off her shoes. Her hair was pulled back and one long tendril lay over her shoulder.

  ‘I thought this might be a dressing room…’

  Dante spread out an arm, a hard smile playing around that seductive mouth. ‘By all means, you can dress in here if you want.’

  She stood stiffly. ‘You know what I mean.’ She turned. ‘I’ll go. Sorry for disturbing you.’

  He muttered something in Italian behind her and she turned again. ‘Excuse me?’

  He looked slightly tortured for a second and something in that look made an answering quiver erupt deep in her groin. But she couldn’t trust what she’d seen—it had to be her mind playing tricks.

  ‘Nothing. Go. You should rest. You’re going to need it.’

  A fear of something powerful moving through her made her blurt out, ‘Do we have to have adjoining rooms?’

  He nodded and walked towards her. She backed away. ‘The guests will expect that we will be sharing a room, not merely occupying adjoining rooms, but here we can get away with it.’

  She shook her head. ‘But—’

  He interrupted her. ‘But when we go to South Africa we will share a room, whether you like it or not.’

  Alicia’s head swirled ominously. ‘Hang on a second.’ She put out a hand. as if that might stop him from advancing. ‘South Africa? Since when were we going to South Africa?’ She felt all the conflicting emotions arise again—the reason she’d run there in the first place, the heartache, the unimaginable pain she’d witnessed, the physical pain, hardship and scars she still bore.

  Dante saw the colour drain from her face and frowned. ‘I said that the first week would be here. South Africa is the venue for the last two weeks and the main part of the negotiations. That’s where we’re proposing to finalize the deal and embark on our first project which will be the construction of a huge sports stadium just outside Cape Town. That has been at the centre of this merger. Thousands of companies competed for the job and we got it on the basis of the merger being successful. So even that at this stage hangs in the balance.’

  Alicia felt weak. She wanted to sit down. ‘You never mentioned that.’

  ‘What’s wrong?’ he asked sharply, coming closer.

  Alicia stepped back jerkily. She felt far too vulnerable to be under close scrutiny.

  ‘Nothing.’ She tried to smile, ‘I just hadn’t expected to be going back there so soon, that’s all…’ She’d be fine. She wasn’t going back to the same place. She’d be at the other end of the continent. She turned and put one foot in front of the other. ‘I’ll see you at five.’

  And once in her own room, she closed the door and leant back against it breathing shallow breaths. She’d had no idea the thought of returning to Africa would affect her this badly.

  Minutes later she paced up and down the floor. It wasn’t as if she’d experienced any more or any less than any of the other aid workers. But still…the remembered fear gripped her and the pain seemed to flare in her lower back…it could have been so much worse. And she’d stuck it out after that, determined not to be weak, to give in…but then when he’d arrived, that had been the final straw and she’d returned home. And that still made her feel guilty. That she’d let a man influence her actions—again. He’d driven her there, and then away too…

  She sat down on the bed and felt cold. She didn’t want to think about him, but right now there were too many uncanny similarities.

  Raul Carro. Dr Raul Carro. The man who had taken her heart and watched it beating in his hands before calmly crushing it to pieces.

  Or at l
east that was what it had felt like at the time. Almost two years ago now. The dark and dashing Spanish doctor working briefly in England had captivated her, and her heart.

  And here she was, in close proximity to another of his ilk. Too good looking and powerful for his own good. A Latin magician. She knew this situation was nothing like the one with Raul, who had seduced her with ruthless guile. And she was quite certain that the physical contact Dante had initiated so far was nothing but cold calculation, designed to unnerve her. So why did she feel then as though she were on a precipice, about to fall off again?

  It was only when in her shower a short time later that shock stilled Alicia’s body as she remembered Dante’s assertion that they would be sharing a room in South Africa. She rested her forehead against the tiled wall under the spray. Dark and treacherous desire rose up to taunt her. And then she stood straight. She would not allow herself to be used like that again. She would protect herself this time. And she got on with scrubbing her body. It wasn’t as if Dante D’Aquanni was really attracted to her anyway. A man like him would play around with her for pure idle sport.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  THAT EVENING AT dinner Alicia tried to eat her wild mushroom soup, pulling again at the top which kept slipping down her shoulder. She had changed purely because the skirt and camisole top had felt too flimsy, too revealing, but this was almost worse.

  Dante felt prickly and irritable. He’d spent the afternoon castigating himself for insisting on bringing this woman here. And all the very good, valid reasons for bringing her here had immediately jumped out at him, not least of which was the fact that he still didn’t trust her or her sister an inch. But he knew, if he was honest with himself, that all of his reasons were about as rock-solid as he’d wish to make them. If he didn’t desire her as much as he did, and if that top fell off her shoulder one more time—he stopped his fevered thoughts—then he knew she wouldn’t be here, it was as simple as that.

  Alicia put down her spoon and yanked the top up again, but already the material was making its treacherous descent. She sighed and gave up. She heard an inarticulate sound and looked up to see Dante staring at her with such intensity that her insides melted.

  ‘What…what is it?’

  ‘Leave your top alone,’ he gritted out.

  Alicia felt confused for a second. ‘My…oh…’

  And as if on cue, the shoulder of the light golden silk top slipped again, baring her down to her upper arm. Alicia had hummed and hawed before picking it out of the bag earlier. It had been the next most casual thing in there, along with the linen trousers. She wasn’t able to wear a bra as its design was meant to show off the shoulders.

  His voice sounded tortured. ‘It’s meant to fall like that.’

  Dio! Didn’t she know that?

  Alicia’s stomach felt tight. ‘I know that. I’m just trying not to look like some half naked wanton as we eat dinner. I’d be much happier in my own clothes—’

  Dante shuddered delicately. ‘No. They should be burned.’

  Alicia rolled her eyes. ‘I mean my real own clothes. My suitcase didn’t make the journey home. That’s why I had a limited wardrobe to choose from. I did a big clear out before going to Africa and, as Melanie is about five inches taller than me, her clothes swamp me. It might be hard to believe, but I’m not a total hick, Dante.’

  The hand which held his spoon fell back to the plate and he frowned lightly.

  All of a sudden, all she could see and think about was how handsome and compelling Dante looked dressed, in a black shirt and dark trousers. She chattered to fill the silence. ‘I mean, you must wear jeans sometimes. T-shirts?’

  ‘That’s the first time you’ve said my name.’

  ‘Didn’t your—what?’

  ‘The first time you’ve said my name.’

  So she had. And it had come out easily—too easily—without thinking. Familiarly. Alicia shrugged and the feel of a light breeze on her bare skin made her shiver slightly. She focused on her soup. ‘Well, I’m going to have to get used to it. I presume I can’t be calling you Mr D’Aquanni in front of the others…’

  Dante studied her downbent head, the silken mass of corkscrew curls pulled back and up in a haphazard knot, showing the clean, elegant lines of her neck. When she’d said his name it had reached out and curled itself around his senses, pulling on them with sensual promise.

  ‘No,’ he said and his voice was curt. His eyes rested on the tempting, smooth curve of that bare shoulder and he shifted in his seat. A heavy tension seemed to envelop them as neither spoke, and it was only when Julieta came in with the next course that Alicia felt she could breathe again.

  ‘Come out to the terrace; Julieta will serve us coffee there.’

  It didn’t sound as if she had a choice. Alicia stood and preceded Dante out of the dining room. Again, she had that sensation of déjà vu. Only a couple of days ago she had fainted at the man’s feet in this very hall and now she was dressed in silk and linen, walking out to the terrace to take some after dinner coffee. She was very aware of him behind her. Her skin prickled and she felt goosebumps come up.

  The air outside was warm and silky. Still. It was so quiet and the lake looked so beautiful in the lingering dusk that it took Alicia’s attention away from her situation for a second. She went and rested her hands on the wall, breathing in the scent of fragrant flowers, and felt some kind of weight lift from her shoulders, which was a bizarre sensation to admit to, here, with him.

  ‘It’s beautiful, isn’t it?’

  She looked up at the man beside her. His face was transfixed, totally relaxed. Her breath was taken all over again, as much with her rogue imagination as anything else. ‘Yes.’ And she knew she wasn’t talking about the lake.

  He looked down at her and she coloured, mortified to be caught staring. A mocking glint in his dark eyes drove her away from the wall and she chose a single seat behind them. She was burningly aware of the way the fabric of the top felt against her bare breasts. It felt…bold, but also sensuous, like going skinny dipping. Dante kept looking at her, she could feel it as she resolutely looked the other way and crossed her arms over her chest to disguise the betraying steepling of her nipples.

  Julieta appeared with coffee and Alicia helped her with the tray, relaxing for a moment in the other woman’s easy presence. When she handed Dante his cup, he came and took it with a funny look on his face.

  Alicia quickly took a big gulp from her own cup and winced, gasping in pain as the hot liquid burnt her still sensitive mouth from where she’d burned it only that morning. She put down the cup with a clatter. Dante was beside her instantly.

  ‘What is it?’

  Alicia shook her head, her eyes smarting. ‘I burnt my mouth this morning and just got it again…I’m fine, really.’

  Dante was hunched down beside her, looking up, a hand on her knee. The pain faded in Alicia’s mouth as all she could seem to feel was her heart thumping heavily, loudly, in the silence. He was looking up at her with a dangerous glint in his eyes, his hand heavy on her leg, burning through her clothes. Alicia’s heart clenched. Oh, no, please…

  Dante stood with lithe grace and pulled her up with him. Their bodies were very close. Both his hands went around the back of her head, her jaw. She couldn’t breathe. Her hands were clenched by her sides. Arms rigid.

  ‘What…what are you doing? I’m fine.’

  He shook his head softly, the burning light in his eyes drowning out any coherent thought in Alicia’s head. ‘Just checking…Open your mouth.’

  Stupidly, Alicia did. She felt foggy, heavy…

  ‘Show me your tongue.’

  Stupidly, she did that too.

  It was the sight of that small pink tongue that drove him over the edge. His thumb snagged her lower lip, her tongue darted back in and a flush stained her cheeks. He could feel her breathing change, grow more rapid. The pulse in her neck beat frantically against his wrist.

  ‘Dante…really, I’m a
nurse. It’s nothing.’

  ‘This…is not nothing.’

  Alicia knew he wasn’t talking about her mouth being burnt. She was valiantly clinging on to the hope and belief that he was, though, clinging on to it right up until his head descended and his mouth settled over hers.

  At the moment their mouths touched Alicia felt a sigh move through her—a sigh of inevitability. And a fierce exultant force that terrified her. So here was the evidence—he did find her attractive. One arm was wrapped around her back pulling her into him and the other hand threaded through her hair to cup the back of her head, tilting and angling her so that he could plunder her mouth. And that was what it felt like. She was being plundered right to the tips of her toes.

  Her hands had to hold on to something and she found herself clasping his waist, the trim lean lines. His belly was hard and taut against her breasts which seemed to swell in direct response. It was as if she were literally flowering beneath this man’s touch. His tongue touched hers, stroked and danced. Drawing back, he nipped gently on her lower lip before returning and making her feel so boneless with mounting need that she couldn’t stop herself trembling uncontrollably.

  He drew back and looked down. She found it hard to look up, her head heavy. It was as if she were drugged, incapable of moving, thinking, could hardly open her eyes.

  Then a gust of slightly cooler evening air danced between them and it was as if a bucket of cold water had been thrown in her face. She stiffened and pulled out of his arms and, taken aback with the suddenness of her movement, he let her go. It was all very clear to Alicia right now. What she needed to remember, what she’d forgotten in a shockingly short amount of time.

  She looked up to Dante’s face and willed herself to stand tall, strong, when everything in her wanted to hurl herself back into his arms and beg him to kiss her again.