One-Click Buy: September Harlequin Presents

by Penny Jordan

  If all Darci managed to do tomorrow evening was get Grant to introduce her to Luc Gambrelli, and then she succeeded in giving the man the knock to his super-ego that he so richly deserved, she would be happy.

  All without telling him that she was a friend of Mellie’s, of course; it would be just too humiliating for Mellie if Luc Gambrelli were to realise she had really fallen for him in a big way.

  Of course an even better set-down would have been if Mellie herself had accompanied Grant to the premiere. But that would have involved telling Grant of Mellie’s humiliation, and for Mellie’s sake, Darci was trying to avoid doing that.

  ‘I think you’re mad to go within twenty feet of all that lethal charm, darling,’ Kerry told her admiringly. ‘And of course, there’s always the possibility that it may just backfire on you,’ she added.

  ‘You mean, he really may not like redheads?’ Darci replied.

  ‘This redhead?’ Kerry looked at Darci consideringly before responding loyally, ‘Not a chance! You’re incredibly beautiful and very sexy. As proven by the amount of hearts you’ve left broken along the wayside in the last few years!’

  If Darci had, then it hadn’t been deliberate. She had just been pretty single-minded about her career—to the point where relationships hadn’t featured too strongly in her life, and certainly none of a permanent nature. There simply hadn’t been the time for that, as well as her work.

  ‘So what did you mean about it backfiring…?’ she said slowly.

  Kerry sighed. ‘Has it ever occurred to you that once you’ve actually met the man, you might just find Luc Gambrelli as devastatingly irresistible as every other female on the planet has? That instead of taking delight in coldly shunning him you might just end up falling for all that Mediterranean charm yourself?’ she warned wryly.

  ‘No chance,’ Darci assured her with certainty. ‘Sicilian playboys with more money than morals hold absolutely no appeal for me!’

  ‘Have you seen this Sicilian playboy?’ Kerry teased.

  Well, of course Darci had seen photographs of Luc Gambrelli; the man appeared in the gossip columns of newspapers and magazines all the time as he escorted one beautiful actress or another.

  He was more than six feet tall, with overlong hair the colour of burnished gold, and his tanned face was all hard, sculptured angles that were enough to make a woman’s pulse race just to look at him. Luc Gambrelli wasn’t only one of the most elusive bachelors in the world, he was also one of the most arrogantly attractive.

  Nevertheless, Luc Gambrelli, the multimillionaire Sicilian who changed his women as often as he changed the black silk sheets on his bed, was about to meet the one woman who had no intention of falling for his devastating charm or succumbing to his irresistible seduction.

  He was about to meet the totally impervious and vengeful Darci….

  CHAPTER TWO

  ‘DID you see much of Mellie while you were in Los Angeles?’ Darci prompted her brother lightly.

  ‘Mellie?’ Grant repeated, as he turned from surveying the crowded reception room at the glittering post-premiere party.

  Darci gave him a coy smile. ‘Yes, you know—Mellie. Old schoolfriend of mine. We all shared a flat together a few years ago.’

  ‘Very funny,’ her brother drawled. ‘I just wondered at your interest, that’s all.’

  Darci’s interest was in knowing whether or not Grant knew of Mellie’s ill-fated involvement with Luc Gambrelli!

  ‘Perhaps the exulted film director Grant Wilde is far too superior now to remember his old friends…?’ she continued to tease her brother.

  ‘Very funny!’ Grant came back. ‘And, yes, I did see Mellie a couple of times,’ he confirmed. ‘But I—Oh—hi there.’ He turned to greet someone smilingly.

  ‘Would you care to introduce me to your beautiful partner for the evening, Grant…?’ Luc Gambrelli asked huskily, strolling over to join the young movie director and the entrancingly lovely woman who stood at his side, drinking a glass of the champagne that was flowing freely now that the after-party was in full swing.

  The premiere had been a success as far as the critics invited to the party were concerned, although the newspapers tomorrow morning would probably be more revealing.

  Luc had been aware of the striking redhead at Grant Wilde’s side earlier this evening the moment she entered the theatre on the other man’s arm. She was far too beautiful to be overlooked, even amongst this glittering crowd of celebrities. Her long red hair was like that of a woman in a pre-Raphaelite painting, her eyes a clear lucent green, her complexion creamy smooth, with a tiny smattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose, her lips a full sensual pout—and as for that body, shown to advantage in a clinging green gown!

  She was very slender, with long shapely legs, narrow hips and a flat abdomen, but in contrast her breasts—bare beneath that clinging gown, Luc felt certain!—were full and pert, their creamy swell tantalisingly visible above the low neckline of her gown.

  His curiosity had been piqued earlier, as her coolly dismissive gaze had swept over the crowded foyer. Those eyes the colour of moss—an exact match to the gown she wore, which clung so enticingly to that curvaceous body—had paused on him momentarily, before she had turned away, uninterested.

  Enough to quicken the interest of any red-blooded man!

  And especially one who had already found her so immediately attractive…

  There hadn’t been time for any introductions before the film showing, but Luc had been determined to meet her once they moved on to the party afterwards.

  She was even more beautiful close to: her skin satiny smooth, those green eyes mesmerising through lowered dark lashes, a deep peach gloss on the pout of her lips, her hair the most incredible shade of red as it tumbled over her bare shoulders almost down to her waist. And, being several inches taller than her, even in her high-heeled sandals, Luc had more than a glimpse of that amazing cleavage!

  His gaze was heated as he looked at her from beneath hooded lids, his tongue moving across his lips as he imagined what it would be like to view that cleavage, that amazing body, without the benefit of the green gown, to kiss her, taste her, touch her…

  Having been pursued—and having allowed himself to be captured for a short time—by some of the most beautiful women in the world, Luc found his instantaneous response to this woman’s beauty something of a novelty.

  Although, as he knew from his jaded experience, the novelty wouldn’t last any longer than it took to entice her into his bed!

  If he could entice her into his bed.

  The cool lack of interest that he had seen in her eyes earlier, as her gaze had swept over him so dismissively, hadn’t abated in the slightest as she looked up at him now, from beneath those long, dark lashes.

  ‘Of course, Luc,’ Grant answered him warmly. ‘This is my twin sister, Darci Wilde. Darci—Luc Gambrelli,’ he introduced them.

  Grant’s sister?

  This woman was Grant’s twin sister?

  The two couldn’t have been more unalike; Grant was a six foot blond, and the woman at his side a tall red-haired siren. The only features they appeared to have in common were their height and those moss-green eyes.

  ‘Darci,’ Luc acknowledged, his dark gaze holding hers as, instead of shaking the hand she held out to him, he raised it to brush his lips across her creamy knuckles.

  Her hand felt soft and warm in his, her fingers long and slender, and her perfume—something elusively musky—at once assailed his senses.

  Darci guardedly returned Luc Gambrelli’s gaze from beneath lowered lashes, even as she congratulated herself on the fact that she hadn’t had to ask to be introduced to him after all—that he had come to her.

  Not that she was too surprised at that. She had noted his dark gaze on her when she’d arrived with Grant earlier this evening, and several more times when she’d happened to surreptitiously glance his way. No doubt in a theatre full of celebrities the fact that he had no idea who
she was had something to do with that interest.

  Although she was a little less pleased with her success now, as he bent his head over her hand, those dark eyes openly flirting with hers as his lips brushed against her skin.

  Kerry’s warning came back to haunt her…

  Aged in his midthirties, Luc Gambrelli was just as lethally attractive as he looked in media photos. But more so. The flesh-and-blood man exuded a leashed power, the force of which couldn’t possibly be captured in a photograph. His body was lithe and muscled, in a black dinner suit, snowy-white shirt and black tie, and that overlong burnished gold hair was completely at odds with his olive complexion, his deep chocolate-brown eyes and very white teeth. He raised his head to give Darci a slow, wolfishly appreciative smile while still maintaining his hold on her hand.

  But his reputation, and the cold-hearted way he had used and then discarded Mellie, breaking her heart in the process, made Darci determined not to be in the least impressed by his heart-stopping good looks, that pulse-racing Sicilian charm, or the nerve-tingling huskiness of his voice as it moved as silkily across her flesh as his lips had seconds earlier.

  ‘Mr Gambrelli,’ she returned coolly, as she extricated her hand from his, and she returned his gaze defiantly but uninterestedly.

  ‘Please call me Luc,’ he invited, heavy lids narrowed now over speculative brown eyes.

  ‘Of course.’ She gave a terse nod, deliberately not returning the politeness.

  ‘And are you involved in movie-making, too, Darci?’ he enquired. ‘An actress, perhaps—?’

  ‘I’m afraid not.’ Darci’s reply was dismissive as she levelly returned his flirtatious gaze.

  A look that more than piqued Luc’s interest. ‘I believe Jackie is in need of your assistance in handling the media, Grant,’ he told the younger man lazily, while keeping his gaze firmly fixed on the beautiful Darci.

  ‘Hell,’ Grant muttered, as he turned and saw that Jackie, a complete newcomer to the stardom that had hit her overnight after starring in his movie, was stuck in a corner with a few of the more voracious members of the press. ‘I had better go and rescue her,’ he said. ‘Darci—’

  ‘I will ensure that Darci does not become too bored in your absence,’ Luc assured the other man, and he reached out to once again take hold of Darci’s hand and draw it into the crook of his arm.

  This man didn’t miss a trick, did he? Darci acknowledged with an inward scowl, as she felt the hard, disturbing warmth of Luc Gambrelli’s body against her arm as he anchored her to his side.

  Grant grinned at the older man. ‘Take it easy on my little sister, hmm, Luc…?’ he warned dryly.

  Luc gave the other man a mocking inclination of his head, totally aware of the tension in Darci Wilde’s body as she stood beside him.

  Totally aware of everything about her. From the glorious scented red hair that he longed to bury his face in, to the beauty of her red-lacquered toes that he wanted to kiss through the black strappy evening sandals she wore. Before slowly working his way up the sultry curves of the rest of her body to those voluptuous breasts….

  Most men, he knew, had a particular part of a woman’s body that they preferred to any other—legs, bottom or breasts. But Luc couldn’t say he had ever before thought of a woman’s breasts as being his own particular preference. He would definitely make Darci Wilde the exception!

  Grant’s grin widened. ‘I should warn you, Luc—it takes a lot to impress my little sister,’ he advised, before strolling off determinedly to rescue his leading lady.

  Darci gave a rueful smile as her brother left her alone with this wolf—in wolf’s clothing!—without so much as a backward glance.

  Not that Grant had any idea of her ambivalent feelings towards the Sicilian film producer. There were some things you didn’t confide even in a twin, and Mellie’s humiliation at Luc Gambrelli’s hands was definitely one of them!

  But, even so, her brother had to be well aware of Luc Gambrelli’s reputation with women—

  On second thoughts, Grant probably saw leaving her to the legendary lethal charms of Luc Gambrelli as a huge joke!

  Although whether Grant intended that joke to be on her or on Luc Gambrelli, she wasn’t quite sure. Grant was as aware of her own elusiveness when it came to relationships as he had to be of the other man’s will-o’-the-wisp attitude towards them.

  She turned to the man standing so arrogantly beside her. ‘I believe you did that on purpose,’ she murmured mockingly.

  ‘True,’ Luc Gambrelli drawled unrepentantly. ‘Is what Grant said also true, Darci?’ he prompted as he moved slightly, effectively cutting her off from the rest of the room.

  ‘That I’m not easily impressed?’ she rejoined. ‘What do you think?’ she prompted provocatively.

  He raised dark blond brows over those melting chocolate-brown eyes. ‘I don’t believe you are ready yet to hear what I’m thinking,’ he came back throatily.

  Darci blinked as he returned her provocation tenfold, the intimacy of his tone telling her exactly along what line his thoughts were wandering.

  As if the dark caress of his stare as he slowly moved it across her face to trail down the length of her body wasn’t already making her completely aware of that!

  Well, she wasn’t some shrinking violet, or a relatively unknown actress who was hoping he would give her a break in her career; she was twenty-eight years old and a doctor, and she was going to take great delight in letting this man know that she really wasn’t impressed by anything about him.

  She stepped back, deliberately removing her hand from Luc Gambrelli’s arm as she did so, amazed at how much easier she found it to breathe now that she was no longer so aware of the hard warmth of his body. ‘Try me,’ she invited challengingly.

  Appreciation lit those dark eyes as he grinned at her. ‘Would you like a detailed account or just an overview?’ he came back easily, so obviously a consummate flirt.

  Darci calmly took a sip of her champagne as she seemed to give the question some thought, inwardly fighting a battle not to wipe the confident smile off Luc Gambrelli’s arrogant face. Not yet, anyway.

  She’d had every intention of having the pleasure of giving Luc Gambrelli a royal set-down this evening, if he should show interest in her, to let him know that he really couldn’t have every woman he wanted. But just these few minutes in his company had shown her that his interest in her was certain. Those dark brown eyes easily conveyed the depth of his physical attraction to her.

  So much so that Darci couldn’t help wondering if she shouldn’t take this a step further than just this evening….

  There were a couple of ifs involved in that plan, of course….

  If Luc Gambrelli should actually ask to see her again.

  If she had the nerve to actually agree to seeing him again, knowing she had no intention of keeping that date!

  She looked up at Luc and allowed her green eyes to meet his unblinkingly. ‘The detailed account, I think,’ she invited coquettishly.

  Grant Wilde’s sister was becoming more and more of a surprise to him the longer he spent in her company, Luc acknowledged appreciatively; he was no longer just attracted to her luscious body, but also to the sharp edge of her tongue and the intelligence he could read in the depths of those moss-green eyes.

  She was Grant’s twin, so Luc knew she had to be aged in her late twenties, and, beautiful as she was, she must have received more than her fair share of male attention. And it was attention she obviously had no difficulty in dealing with.

  The fact that there wasn’t even the slightest blush on her cheeks as she encouraged him to voice the intimacies he would like to share with her confirmed that.

  He gave a slight inclination of his head. ‘Perhaps we should go somewhere a little more—private, for this conversation?’ he suggested softly.

  Darci continued to survey him coolly. ‘I was only suggesting that you tell me your thoughts, Mr Gambrelli—not that we put any of them into action!�
�� she told him tartly.

  ‘Ah.’ He smiled. ‘My mistake.’

  ‘Indeed,’ she snapped waspishly, those green eyes glittering warningly.

  Luc allowed his gaze to once again move appreciatively over the beauty of her face. Darci Wilde, he decided, was something of a contradiction; that glorious abundance of red hair, the lush curve of her breasts and the slenderness of her waist and thighs were so totally feminine, and yet at the same time were in total contrast to that sharp flick of her tongue.

  It was a contrast he was finding more and more intriguing by the minute!

  Perhaps not such a good idea…

  Only a year ago there had been three Gambrelli bachelors: his cousin, Cesare, his brother, Wolf, and Luc himself. But a year ago Cesare had fallen in love with Robin, and then, four months later, the two of them had married. Only three months ago Wolf had married his beloved Angel. Leaving Luc as the only one who remained single.

  A status quo that he was absolutely determined to keep!

  So much so that he had avoided entering any relationships at all since his brother Wolf’s wedding.

  But telling Darci Wilde of the ways in which he would like to make love to her wasn’t a relationship, was it?

  ‘Very well. As you insist.’ His voice lowered huskily. ‘First of all I would like to kiss you. Just your mouth, you understand? It’s such a—delicious mouth,’ he added, as his heated gaze locked onto her peach pout. ‘Soft. And full. And so tempting. Yes, I would very much like to kiss you,’ he confirmed. ‘To taste you. To let my tongue explore you.’

  Darci could feel the heat creeping into her body as the intimacy in Luc Gambrelli’s voice moved across and into her. She was aware of the way her breasts had swelled, their nipples hard and tingling, of the heat moving between her thighs.

  Not exactly what she had planned to happen when she’d decided to call this man’s bluff!

  ‘And while I am kissing you,’ Luc Gambrelli continued in that low, sensuous voice, ‘I would like to thread my fingers into your beautiful hair, to feel its silky softness, to tangle it about my fingers as we deepen the kiss. And then I would like to release one of my hands to run the zip of your dress slowly down your spine, touching you as I do so, caressing the smoothness of your bare skin as I allow the gown to drop to the floor. Underneath the gown you would be wearing nothing but a pair of silk panties—black, I think,’ he added, as he looked over her with slow consideration, ‘and sheer flesh-coloured stockings—’