One-Click Buy: September Harlequin Presents

by Penny Jordan

  A surrender that had only made her distrust of him deepen, if the fury snapping in her eyes and the look of self-disgust on her face were anything to go by!

  He drew in a controlling breath as he fought down the clamouring of his own body. ‘What just happened was inevitable, Darci—’

  ‘Maybe to you it was,’ she returned scathingly, as she quickly rebuttoned her top. ‘But not to me!’

  If Darci sought to return some semblance of propriety to this conversation by covering herself, then she was achieving the opposite, Luc acknowledged ruefully, noting that Darci’s long legs were still enticingly naked beneath the thigh-length garment.

  ‘What do you do in circumstances like this, Luc?’ she challenged him. ‘Give yourself half a notch on the bedpost rather than one?’

  He looked at her darkly. ‘I don’t think insulting me is going to help this situation—’

  ‘You think that was insulting?’ she came back shrilly. ‘Let me assure you, Luc, where you’re concerned, I haven’t even begun!’

  ‘No one forced you into responding, dammit!’ Luc lost his temper, the ache in his own arousal—his unfulfilled arousal!—still throbbing painfully.

  ‘Oh, I might have known you would throw that in my face!’ Darci came back furiously. ‘But what chance did I have of refusing when the great lover, the practised seducer Luc Gambrelli, decided to turn all his considerable expertise onto me!’

  ‘I would advise you to stop right there, Darci,’ Luc bit out forcefully, a nerve pulsing in his tightly clenched jaw, his eyes blazing with his own leashed temper.

  ‘Why should I?’ Darci defied him. ‘You just had to prove that you can have any woman you please, didn’t you? Couldn’t accept that there might be any woman in the universe who isn’t impressed by the legendary Luc Gambrelli—’

  ‘I told you to stop, Darci!’ he warned between gritted teeth.

  ‘And you expect me to obey, too, don’t you?’ she rejoined. ‘Well, welcome to the real world, Luc—you’re the last man, the very last man, I would ever obey—either now or in the future!’

  Luc stilled at her vehemence, his gaze narrowing on her searchingly as he tried to make sense of everything that had happened since he’d first met her.

  Was it possible that her coolness towards him on Thursday evening had been a deliberate ploy to engage his attention?

  That her elusiveness when he’d asked her out had been just as deliberate?

  As had her demand that he take her somewhere sinfully expensive?

  Had she done those things with the intention of just as deliberately leaving him sitting alone in Garstang’s for half an hour before telephoning to let him know she wouldn’t be joining him after all?

  Was it possible that she had never had any intention of keeping their date?

  It was possible—more than possible!—yes.

  But Luc had no idea why.

  Even less so after the way she had responded to him just now….

  Although that response was obviously something Darci deeply regretted, and unfortunately it only seemed to have added fuel to whatever resentment she had already been feeling towards him.

  But Luc couldn’t fathom why it was she felt that resentment. He knew that he had never met Darci before—he would certainly have remembered her if he had!

  Neither could it have anything to do with her brother Grant; he and the other man had worked well together on the film Turning Point, and had already discussed collaborating on another project in several months’ time.

  So what had caused Darci’s resentment?

  ‘Tell me, Darci,’ he purred, deceptively softly, ‘what have I done that has—upset you in this way?’

  Darci gave him a startled look, realising that in her agitation—in her self-disgust at her own weakness towards this man!—she had probably revealed too much. The last thing she wanted to do was betray her friend’s confidence by revealing just how badly Luc had hurt Mellie six weeks ago.

  ‘Isn’t making love to me just now enough to be going on with?’ she came back indignantly.

  ‘No,’ he replied calmly. ‘Because your attitude dates back to before that,’ he added confidently.

  Darci moistened dry lips, wishing she were in a more advantageous position than she was—that she at least had all her clothes on! ‘That’s nonsense, Luc—’

  ‘No, it isn’t,’ he contradicted smoothly, that dark gaze narrowed speculatively.

  ‘Of course it is,’ she defended. ‘You said you came here this evening out of concern because I was ill, and instead—’

  ‘You are no more ill than I am, Darci,’ he cut in hardly. ‘I can assure you, you are in robust health!’

  Very robust health if her memory of her reaction to his hardened body pressed so intimately against hers was anything to go by!

  And she was sure that it was. Her legs felt weak just at the thought of that hard, muscled body against hers, her cheeks hot as she recalled the touch of those sensuous lips and tongue against her breasts, the way she had opened herself to him as his hand intimately caressed her.

  The way her inner thighs still ached from the force of her physical release…!

  As Kerry had pointed out so bluntly three days ago, Darci had been far too busy for relationships these last ten years, only having allowed herself the occasional date with a colleague as a break from her rigid regime. Obviously all those years of abstinence had done Darci absolutely no good whatsoever if she could respond so wantonly to Luc Gambrelli, a man who had hurt and betrayed one of her best friends!

  ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about, Luc,’ she told him dismissively, stepping out of her fallen pyjama bottoms to move across the room. ‘I would like you to leave now, if you don’t mind,’ she added hardly, the crumpled lower garment a stark reminder of the fact that she had been almost completely naked in this man’s arms a few minutes ago, while he was still fully dressed—and looking slightly satanic with it!—in black shirt and trousers.

  Luc drew in a harsh breath, knowing there was much more to Darci’s behaviour over the last few days than she obviously intended sharing with him.

  Yet.

  Because he had no intention of just walking away from Darci this evening and never seeing her again; he intended getting to the bottom of her resentment towards him if he could. He was absolutely certain now that she had felt resentment towards him before he had even spoken to her on Thursday evening.

  He gave a terse inclination of his head. ‘I think that might be advisable—for now.’

  ‘For now?’ she echoed warily.

  Luc gave a humourless smile. ‘I don’t like mysteries, Darci—and I find your behaviour a puzzle verging upon an enigma!’

  ‘I can’t imagine why.’ She gave an impatient shake of her head. ‘Just accept that there’s one woman who doesn’t go weak at the knees just looking at you—’

  ‘All evidence is to the contrary, Darci,’ he drawled mockingly, and was rewarded by a flash of fiery anger that coloured her cheeks and made her eyes sparkle accusingly.

  He knew he was behaving like a complete bastard by reminding her of her weakness a short time ago, but that interlude, pleasuring her, was the only evidence he had that Darci was keeping something from him—something that made her deny even her own response to him. A response she would dearly have liked to pretend had never happened, if that mutinous glitter in her eyes was anything to go by.

  But, at the same time, she knew that even if she could forget it, Luc had no intention of doing so….

  He grimaced. ‘I don’t believe we will achieve anything by discussing this…situation any further this evening, Darci—’

  ‘We aren’t going to discuss this any further at all!’

  ‘We will have dinner together tomorrow evening—’

  ‘We most certainly will not!’ she assured him incredulously.

  ‘Oh, yes,’ he asserted, ‘we will. But not in a restaurant this time,’ he stated forcefully. ‘Instead
I will bring the makings of our dinner here, leaving it to you to ensure that your flatmates have gone out.’

  ‘I said we aren’t having dinner together, Luc,’ Darci told him frustratedly. ‘Not tomorrow or any other time!’

  He quirked one blond, arrogant brow. ‘You would rather that we continue this…discussion…in front of your flatmates?’

  ‘I don’t intend continuing this discussion at all, let alone in front of any third party,’ Darci snapped impatiently.

  He gave an arrogant smile. ‘Nevertheless, I will be here at seven-thirty tomorrow evening. It is your choice whether or not your flatmates are present.’

  ‘Flatmate,’ Darci corrected him sharply. ‘I told you that one of my flatmates is away at the moment,’ she reminded him.

  Mellie—the woman this man had used and then so callously discarded, Darci reminded herself vehemently.

  As Luc would no doubt discard Darci herself once he had satisfied his curiosity about her….

  ‘So you did.’ He nodded unconcernedly. ‘Until tomorrow evening, then, Darci.’ He bent to pick up his jacket, shrugging his broad shoulders into it before turning to look at her from between narrowed lids. ‘My advice, despite what you may feel to the contrary, is for you not to absent yourself tomorrow evening,’ he told her hardly. ‘That would only involve my having to contact Grant again in order to ascertain your whereabouts…’ he explained.

  Darci stared at him impotently. All Kerry’s warnings about the wisdom of attempting to inflict retribution on Luc Gambrelli for hurting Mellie seemed to have come true.

  Grant was going to be curious enough about her date with Luc Gambrelli this evening, and would no doubt tease her mercilessly about not confiding in him about it. She had to avoid adding fuel to that fire by allowing Luc to talk to Grant about her again.

  She glared. ‘I dislike you intensely, Mr Gambrelli!’ she told him fiercely.

  He gave a slow, deliberate smile as his gaze moved slowly up the long length of her bare legs, over her thighs and slender waist, before coming to rest warmly on the firm thrust of her breasts.

  Breasts that instantly betrayed her when her nipples hardened against the material of her top!

  ‘Yes, I can see that you do,’ he observed knowingly, before strolling unconcernedly to the door. ‘Until tomorrow evening, Darci,’ he repeated over his shoulder, before quietly letting himself out of the flat.

  Darci stared after him.

  She wanted to throw something.

  Wanted to hit something.

  Wanted to scream and shout.

  And all to no avail. She knew doing any of those things would make absolutely no difference to the outcome of her conversation with Luc Gambrelli. She had no choice—unless she wanted Grant to become even more involved than he already was, which she most certainly didn’t!—but to prepare herself for Luc Gambrelli to arrive back here at seven-thirty tomorrow evening….

  CHAPTER FIVE

  THE snug-fitting denims and green T-shirt Darci was wearing the following evening, when she opened the door to Luc’s ring on the doorbell prompt at seven-thirty, were, he considered, a vast improvement on the striped pyjamas she had been wearing the night before. This outfit emphasised the feline leanness of her body beneath the full swell of her breasts.

  Although Luc couldn’t say he approved of the fact that Darci had swept back all that fiery-red hair and secured it in a loose topknot that dulled its colour to auburn.

  However, the mutinous sparkle in those moss-green eyes as she looked at him in challenge warned Luc not to say anything that would put tinder to that particular flame.

  He smiled enigmatically as he strolled past her into the apartment. ‘I think we should open this right now.’ He pulled a bottle of red wine from the bag he carried. ‘You look in need of a glass,’ he opined dryly.

  ‘I already have a bottle of red wine open in the kitchen,’ Darci told him tersely. Never usually one for drinking on her own, she’d felt she needed a glass this evening, in order to fortify her nerves ready for when Luc Gambrelli arrived.

  In view of the fact that he was dressed much less formally than when she had previously seen him—his own faded denims fitting low down on his lean hips, the black fitted T-shirt emphasising his flat, muscled stomach and the powerful width of his shoulders providing a sharp contrast to the burnished gold of his overlong hair—her instinct had obviously been a correct one!

  ‘Are we alone this evening?’ he enquired mildly as he placed a laden bag down on the table that stood in the middle of the kitchen.

  Darci’s gaze narrowed. She knew he was asking if she had complied with his advice and asked Kerry not to be here.

  As it happened, she hadn’t needed to ask Kerry to go out—because once Kerry had arrived home the night before, and Darci had told her of her own disastrous evening, her friend had felt absolutely no inclination to be here when Luc Gambrelli came back again tonight. In fact, Kerry had opted out of the situation altogether, and decided to spend the night at Michael’s flat!

  ‘Yes,’ she confirmed tersely, her eyes widening slightly as Luc took prawns, steaks, mushrooms, baby potatoes and the makings of a salad from the bag he had carried in with him. ‘I really don’t think I’m going to be able to eat any of that,’ she told him, as she poured some of the red wine into a glass for him and topped up her own at the same time.

  He looked at her curiously. ‘I should warn you, Darci, I do not intend to go hungry again this evening,’ he told her, as he lifted the glass and took a sip of wine.

  Darci felt cross. ‘I don’t believe for a moment that you went without dinner last night—’

  ‘I wasn’t necessarily referring to food,’ Luc corrected her, raising one mocking brow as Darci eyed him suspiciously.

  She delivered him a quelling glance as his meaning became clear. ‘Let’s get one thing straight, shall we, Luc?’ she bit out tensely.

  ‘By all means,’ he drawled, as he leant back against the table to look at her with calm enquiry.

  Her mouth thinned. ‘I am not one of those aspiring young actresses in Los Angeles who are just so grateful to have you even notice them that they are more than willing to share your bed! Neither am I impressed by the legendary lover, Luc Gambrelli—’

  ‘That appears to be two things, Darci,’ Luc cut in dangerously, not liking the way this conversation was shaping up at all. ‘And that’s one more time in our acquaintance that you’ve referred to me as a “legendary lover”—in a derogatory way,’ he pointed out.

  ‘Because that’s what you are!’ Darci told him impatiently. ‘The newspapers are constantly full of stories about the relationships that you, your brother and your cousin—’

  ‘Both Wolf and Cesare are now happily married and completely faithful to their respective wives,’ he pointed out.

  ‘That just means that, as the only single Gambrelli male left, the press will concentrate completely on your own exploits in future,’ Darci retaliated.

  Luc was well aware of that. Just as he was aware that for the last three months, since the shock of Wolf’s marriage so soon after Cesare’s, there hadn’t been any exploits of his for the newspapers to sensationalise. Unlike his brother and his cousin, Luc had no intention of falling foul of the dreaded Gambrelli Curse: namely, finding himself hopelessly in love, and—worst of all!—married.

  He shook his head. ‘The tabloid press simply write what the public wants to read,’ he dismissed unconcernedly.

  That hadn’t been true concerning his relationship with Mellie, thank goodness, Darci thought. The last thing Darci would have wanted to read in the newspapers was how this man had broken her friend’s heart some weeks ago.

  But, again, she couldn’t bring Mellie into this without betraying her friend’s confidence….

  ‘You’re totally missing my point, Luc,’ she told him impatiently.

  ‘That point being…?’ Once again he quirked that arrogant brow. A gesture that was beginning to irritate Darci im
mensely.

  ‘That, no matter what you may have assumed to the contrary, I do not go to bed with womanising playboys!’

  He took another sip of his wine, not betraying his reaction to her deliberate insult by so much as a twitch of that annoying eyebrow. ‘That sounds like a very sensible philosophy to me,’ he finally reasoned.

  Darci wasn’t fooled for a moment by the pleasantness of his tone; she could see the way his eyes had narrowed, and the very stillness of his leanly muscled body was a warning in itself.

  A warning she decided not to heed. ‘I was referring to you!’ she told him defiantly, her whole body taut as she waited for his response.

  He nodded. ‘Yes, I thought you were.’ He placed his wineglass down on the kitchen table, his movements slow and deliberate, before turning to walk around the table to where Darci stood, coming to a halt only inches away from her. ‘Perhaps, Darci, it would be better if you waited to be asked to share my bed before saying no?’

  Darci stood her ground, glaring up at him, determined not to be intimidated by his close proximity.

  Even if she was!

  For all Luc’s lazy elegance of movement, his ultra-calm expression, Darci could feel the danger, the threat swirling beneath that stillness, and knew that beneath the trappings of his casual clothing Luc’s body was taut with displeasure. Those dark eyes were no longer laughing, but glittering down at her with intent.

  This man, she realised with wary clarity, was much more than he appeared on the surface!

  Much more than the womanising playboy she had just accused him of being?

  Yes, much more, she recognised, as an apprehensive quiver moved across her skin.

  At this moment he was more than ever that sleeping tiger she knew she had awakened—and if she didn’t tread very carefully she was in danger of getting mauled!

  She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue, instantly stopping the movement when she saw the way Luc’s gaze darkened hungrily as it followed the progress of the pink tip of her tongue. Reminding her all too forcefully of the way his tongue had caressed her in the same way the evening before!