‘What are you doing?’

Luc glanced down at her as he strode forcefully across the room.

‘Taking you to bed,’ he rasped. ‘That is what you want, isn’t it?’

Darci looked up at him uncertainly, finding no hint of tender lover in his harshly set expression and the darkness of his eyes.

‘Luc, what—? Luc!’ she cried, as he didn’t place her on the bed but instead dropped her, so that she bounced on the springy mattress.

His mouth twisted derisively as he looked down at her, and she tried to regain her balance enough to straighten her clothing over her exposed body. ‘I said I was taking you to bed, Darci—not that I would be joining you there!’

THE SICILIANS

They seek passion—at any price!

A sizzling trilogy by Carole Mortimer

Three Sicilians of aristocratic birth—

with revenge in mind and romance in their destinies!

Book 1:

THE SICILIAN’S RUTHLESS MARRIAGE REVENGE

Book 2:

AT THE SICILIAN COUNT’S COMMAND

Book 3:

THE SICILIAN’S INNOCENT MISTRESS

THE SICILIAN’S INNOCENT MISTRESS

BY

CAROLE MORTIMER

www.millsandboon.co.uk

CHAPTER ONE

‘SO, WHICH look do you think is going to attract the attention of a heartbreaker like film producer Luc Gambrelli?’ Darci prompted Kerry consideringly, as she threw open the door to her wardrobe and brought out a white dress. ‘The demure virgin?’

She held the garment against her, its plain styling covering her tall slenderness from neck to knee. She pulled her heavy length of red hair away from the delicate lines of her heart-shaped face, at the same time lowering her head, her expression youthfully coy as she looked at Kerry with moss-green eyes through long dark lashes.

Her flatmate and long-term friend laughed softly as she sat on the bed, watching the display. ‘Or…?’ Kerry queried smilingly.

‘Or sexy vamp?’ Darci threw the white dress down on the bed and pulled out a slinky black gown, its ribbon shoulder straps, low neckline, body-hugging style and length—three inches above the knee—leaving very little to the imagination as she held it against her, releasing her hair to fluff its long, fiery length enticingly about her face and shoulders as she adopted a deliberately seductive pose.

‘Hmm.’ Kerry grimaced. ‘Somewhere in between the two, I think. Grant once told me that every man’s perfect fantasy woman is one who’s as beautiful and charming as an angel in public and as sexy as a she-devil in his bed!’

Darci’s brows rose. ‘My big brother told you that?’

‘Years ago, at university.’ Kerry, a tiny brunette, laughed at Darci’s surprised expression. ‘I think we had all just come home from a party at the time, and he was bemoaning the fact that he doubted he was ever going to meet his perfect woman.’

‘Well, he was right about that, anyway; at twenty-eight he’s still a bachelor. In fact, just like me, there isn’t a permanent relationship in sight,’ Darci added with a slight frown. ‘If there was, he wouldn’t have asked me to accompany him to his latest film premiere!’

Exactly five minutes older than Darci, her twin brother was an extremely successful film director. He had scaled the heady heights to superstardom during the last four years, his last two films having been box office hits. Grant was hoping to add to his current run of success with the premiere of his latest film the following evening. A premiere where, as the producer of the film, Luc Gambrelli was also going to be in attendance.

A delicious coincidence too convenient to resist as far as Darci was concerned…

She looked at the two dresses critically. ‘So, somewhere in between, you think…? Of course it would probably help if I knew whether Luc Gambrelli preferred redheads to brunettes or blondes.’

‘Depends on the day of the week, I expect,’ Kerry dismissed sagely. ‘Monday a blonde. Tuesday a brunette. Wednesday a redhead. Et cetera. From the gossip about him in the newspapers over the years, he appears to have a different woman for each day of the week,’ she explained, at Darci’s puzzled look.

Darci pondered her friend’s words. ‘Then we can only hope that it’s redheads on a Thursday evening!’

Her friend gave her a rueful smile. ‘You really intend going through with this…?’

‘And hopefully giving Luc Gambrelli a taste of his own heartless medicine?’ Darci said distractedly, as she began another search through her wardrobe for the perfect dress to wear tomorrow evening. ‘He broke Mellie’s heart, remember. Of course I’m going to get Grant to introduce the two of us at the premiere in the hope of attracting his attention—and then I shall have the pleasure of giving him one almighty set-down if he does show any interest. It’s about time some woman let the arrogant Luc Gambrelli know that every female he meets isn’t going to swoon at his feet!’ she added with determination.

‘Isn’t being rude to someone as powerful as film producer Luc Gambrelli possibly going to have fall-out and damage Grant’s career?’ Kerry responded.

‘That’s the best part.’ Darci grinned. ‘My big brother is so much the golden boy movie director at the moment that he simply can’t be touched!’

Kerry still looked worried. ‘Yet from what I’ve read, the film world is a precarious one; someone can be the darling of the moment one minute and a total outcast the next!’

‘Do you really think Luc Gambrelli would be petty enough to take his disappointment out on Grant?’ Darci said disbelievingly.

‘He might,’ Kerry returned.

Darci laughed as she bent down to hug the other woman. ‘You always were the worrier amongst us!’ she told Kerry affectionately, knowing that if it weren’t for her friend’s caution in earlier years she would have got into many more scrapes than she had, her own nature—part of being a redhead, perhaps?—having been much more impetuous.

And Darci had no intention of backing off from Luc Gambrelli. Not after what he had done to Mellie…

‘You do realise that Luc Gambrelli will probably be with someone tomorrow evening…?’ Kerry persisted.

‘That’s where you’re wrong,’ Darci announced with satisfaction. ‘Grant told me that Luc Gambrelli is escorting the female lead, Jackie Tunbridge. She’s new to all this, and a little nervous, and apparently Luc Gambrelli has been a little more circumspect in who he takes where recently.’ She paused to consider for a moment, then continued, ‘Grant says it’s because he doesn’t want to get caught in the marital trap, like his brother and his cousin. Count Wolf Gambrelli and Cesare Gambrelli,’ she explained, as Kerry looked totally blank.

‘Luc Gambrelli is related to those two?’ Kerry gasped after a few seconds.

Darci nodded. ‘His brother is the Count, no less,’ she confirmed, still searching through her wardrobe for exactly the right dress to wear tomorrow evening. ‘It’s no good,’ she conceded, as she turned back into the bedroom decisively. ‘I’ll have to go out tomorrow and look for something new.’

‘But you hate shopping for new clothes,’ her friend reminded her.

Darci scowled. ‘For the chance to put the oh-I-think-I’m-so-wonderful Luc Gambrelli firmly in his place I’ll make an exception! Kerry, I know you don’t think this is a good idea,’ she said, as Kerry carried on looking doubtful. ‘But the man really can’t be allowed to just cold-heartedly break the heart of one of my very best friends without some sort of retaliation!’

Kerry, Mellie and Darci had been at school together, and then had stuck with each other while taking further education courses in London: Kerry had taken a degree in History, Mellie had gone to drama school and Darci had chosen Medicine. Grant, having known Darci’s old friends well, and having attended university, too, had joined them in sharing a house during those years of studying.

The passing years had forged a bond between the four of them that was as close, if not closer, than family; if one of them was hurt, the others felt it, too.

And then, six weeks ago, Mellie’s tender heart had been broken by the heartless Luc Gambrelli!

After university Grant had gone to Los Angeles, and the three women had taken another apartment together in London. Then, six months ago, Mellie—after some mild success on the London stage—had gone to Los Angeles, too, in order to look for acting roles.

Which was how she had met and fallen in love with the famous film producer Luc Gambrelli.

The two had got together at a party—Luc Gambrelli apparently dazzling Mellie completely when he’d assured her that she was perfect for a part in the film he was shortly going to put into production.

Kerry and Darci had followed the Italian film producer’s seduction of Mellie via their friend’s frequent telephone calls and e-mails, and she’d waxed lyrical about how wonderful he was, how he had swept her off her feet, pursuing her relentlessly as he showered her with flowers and gifts until his conquest was secure and Mellie was head-over-heels in love with him and more than eager to share his bed. An experience Mellie had related to her two friends in erotic detail.

After which the heartless pig had just disappeared out of Mellie’s life, as had the prospective part in his film, leaving her broken-hearted as she realised she had fallen for the oldest trick in the book when it came to acting—the casting couch. Or, in this case, Luc Gambrelli’s silk-sheeted bed!

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—’

‘Are you trying to shock me, Mr Gambrelli?’ Darci cut in quickly, hopefully hiding her inner discomfort at the fact that he had guessed exactly what she was—or rather, wasn’t!—wearing beneath her gown.

No doubt, experienced lover that he was, Luc Gambrelli was more than capable of undressing a woman with just his eyes, she acknowledged hardly.

‘Am I succeeding?’ he enquired, those dark eyes glinting with a devilish humour.

Something else Darci hadn’t been prepared for…

She had expected Luc Gambrelli to be as good-looking as sin. And he was.

She had expected him to be arrogant. And he was most definitely that.

But what she hadn’t expected was that he would also have a wicked—and very appealing—sense of humour!

‘Not in the least,’ she assured him with calm dismissal, as she took another sip of her champagne.

‘Good—because I haven’t got to the best part yet,’ he murmured assuredly, laughter glinting in those dark eyes. ‘Once I had you out of your dress I would kneel at your feet, paying homage to your beautiful breasts with my lips and tongue on the way down, and then I would slowly slide off your silk panties—’

‘I’m sure it’s fascinating to hear your fantasies, Mr Gambrelli.’ Her scathing tone told him she considered it the opposite. ‘But then they are just fantasies, aren’t they?’

‘For the moment,’ he agreed, and once again his gaze fixed caressingly on the full pout of her mouth.

Darci knew exactly the effect her looks had on men of all ages—how her height, her unruly red hair and voluptuous breasts prevented most men from taking her seriously. She had been fighting against that prejudice all her life, but especially during her years of training to be a doctor. In fact, she was still fighting it with the male staff at the hospital where she worked. And with some of the patients, too—young men considering her easy bait for their teasing, and most older men reluctant to let an attractive young female doctor care for them at all.

The fact that Luc Gambrelli had taken one look at her and decided not to take her seriously, either, only made her see red!

She was more determined than ever that he needed to be taught a salutary lesson—and that was never to underestimate a woman scorned or, in this case, never to underestimate the friend of a woman scorned!

‘As you said earlier, Luc, this is hardly the place for this sort of conversation,’ she dismissed, with a lightness she was far from feeling. Her breasts ached—her nipples actually throbbed!—and there was a dampness between her thighs from just listening to this man talk about making love to her.

‘Where would you consider the right place to be?’ he encouraged naughtily.

Nowhere, as far as this mesmerising man was concerned!

‘Fascinating as this conversation has been, Luc, I think it’s probably time I rejoined Grant,’ she replied smartly. ‘I—What do you think you’re doing?’ She frowned as Luc Gambrelli reached out and grasped her bare arm, his long fingers dark against her much paler skin.

Yes, what was he doing? Luc wondered impatiently.

Darci Wilde was beautiful, yes. Desirable. Intelligent, too. Certainly quick-witted enough to hold his interest. But wasn’t this an interest, raw as he still was from Wolf and Cesare’s defection to the married state, that Luc was trying to avoid at all costs?

But Darci was so incredibly beautiful, and he was already aroused just from talking about making love to her deliciously sensual body…

‘I wonder if you would care to have dinner with me one evening?’ he asked smoothly, not at all sure of the wisdom of seeing this woman again, but aware that his caution stood little chance of winning out when his body throbbed with a need to know her better.

An urgent need.

A need that at the moment far outweighed those feelings of caution.

Darci looked up at Luc Gambrelli for several long minutes, torn between the satisfaction of having this man invite her out after all, and the fact that, now she had actually spent some time in Luc Gambrelli’s company, she appreciated that Kerry’s warning of yesterday had some merit.

Not that there had ever been any real chance of her actually falling for Luc Gambrelli—not after the way he had treated Mellie. But at the same time Darci had to acknowledge that he really was much more lethally attractive in the flesh. His unusual colouring and undeniable good looks were mesmerising, his every movement was one of elegantly leashed power, and that wicked sense of humour was definitely more appealing than it should be.

His description of how he wanted to make love to her hadn’t been in the least calming, either!

‘Perhaps if I were to assure you, despite what I have just described, that you won’t be on the menu…?’ He mocked her lengthy silence.

Darci’s mouth tightened at the challenge. ‘Perhaps I should assure you that you won’t be, either!’ she came back acidly.

Those dark eyes warmed appreciatively. ‘Tomorrow evening, then? Say eight o’clock?’

‘I’m busy tomorrow evening,’ she took great satisfaction in telling him.

It was the truth, after all; she had a late shift at the hospital tomorrow. But even if she hadn’t, she would have made an excuse not to meet him tomorrow evening. If only to show him she was less than eager to see him again.

The fact that the warmth had faded slightly from those dark eyes, his lips thinning, more than justified her refusal.

No doubt he was used to a more enthusiastic response to his invitations.

No doubt most women would have put off any previous engagement in order to have dinner with him tomorrow or any other evening he suggested.

Well, as Luc Gambrelli was going to learn, Darci wasn’t most women.

And in his case forewarned had definitely been forearmed!

She had no doubt, despite her own reluctance when it came to relationships, that she would have been totally bowled over by his deadly charm if she hadn’t already known what a heartless bastard he really was.

‘Saturday evening?’ he pressed abruptly.

Darci deliberately gave the alternative suggestion some thought, knowing as she glanced at his face from beneath lowered lashes that the egotistical Luc Gambrelli wasn’t best pleased by her obvious hesitation.

He was going to be less pleased when she didn’t even turn up for their dinner date!

‘Why not?’ she finally accepted offhandedly. ‘As long as you intend taking me somewhere sinfully expensive.’ She looked up at him beguilingly, wondering how he liked the idea of literally being used as a meal-ticket.

He didn’t, if the tightening of his mouth and the narrowing of his gaze was anything to go by!

Although it was an emotion he quickly masked as he gave a shrug of those broad shoulders. ‘I’m sure I can find somewhere appropriately sinful,’ he replied.

‘Sinfully expensive,’ Darci corrected—did this man have to reduce everything to the nerve-tinglingly sensual?

‘Of course,’ he drawled, the confident warmth back in those dark eyes as he easily held her gaze and released his grip on her arm to trail his fingers caressingly downwards.

Darci’s breath caught in her throat at the headiness caused by that light touch. Her skin actually seemed to tingle, her own fingers contracting slightly as his thumb intimately stroked the palm of her hand.

It was deliberate seduction, she told herself firmly. Something this man was a master at. In fact, he probably had a diploma on his bedroom wall—as well as several dozen notches on his bedpost!—to testify to his expertise on the subject!

Telling herself that didn’t help in the slightest as those long tapered fingers linked with hers and he once again lifted her hand to his lips, his breath warm against her skin as he brushed his mouth against her knuckles, his dark eyes easily holding hers as his tongue rasped briefly—tasting?—where his lips had just kissed.

A master of seduction? The man should come with a public health warning!

No wonder poor Mellie had fallen victim to Luc’s advances…

‘Until Saturday evening, then, Darci,’ he confirmed, releasing her hand as he straightened. ‘Is Garstang’s sinfully expensive enough for you?’

The exclusive restaurant wasn’t one that Darci had ever been to—a junior doctor’s pay didn’t exactly run to establishments that didn’t even list the prices on their menu!—but she had heard of it, of course, and Grant had been there several times, she knew.

‘It sounds perfect,’ she accepted.

‘I’ll call for you—’

‘No, I’ll meet you at the restaurant at eight o’clock,’ Darci told him firmly; having this man arrange to pick her up was not part of her plan at all.

Garstang’s exclusivity, and the fact that Luc Gambrelli was perfectly confident about being able to secure a booking in a top-class venue that was totally booked months in advance, made it the perfect venue for the humiliation Darci intended to inflict.

She could just picture him now, sitting at the table in the fashionably exclusive Garstang’s, looking oh-so-lethally attractive as he waited for her to arrive.

As he waited.

And waited.

Until it finally dawned on him that Darci had no intention of turning up.

That the legendary lover Luc Gambrelli had been publicly stood up.

Sinfully delicious!

CHAPTER THREE

‘ARE you sure you don’t want to come to the party with Michael and me?’ Kerry paused at the door, on her way out to meet her fiancé for the evening.

‘Perfectly sure.’ Darci grinned at her flatmate reassuringly as she sat on the sofa wearing an old and comfortable pair of pyjamas and wrapped in her duvet. ‘I have the evening off, my favourite DVD—’ she held it up ‘—and a bowl of toffee popcorn; what more could I possibly need?’

‘Luc Gambrelli?’ Kerry suggested provokingly.

‘Forget it!’ Darci protested.

‘Doesn’t it bother you at all that you could actually be out with him this evening, instead of sitting at home alone eating popcorn and watching a film you’ve already seen a dozen times before?’ Kerry sounded incredulous.

‘Not in the least,’ Darci assured her smugly. ‘Just sitting here imagining Luc Gambrelli waiting at a table in Garstang’s for me to arrive is enough to make my evening.’

Kerry looked troubled. ‘You agreed that you would call the restaurant and let him know you weren’t going to turn up,’ she reminded her reprovingly.

Yes, as a concession to Kerry’s worrying the last two days Darci had agreed to do that. She just hadn’t said when she would do it!

Twenty, even twenty-five minutes past eight o’clock should do it, she had decided. Long enough for the egotistical Luc Gambrelli to be made to feel decidedly uncomfortable at the curious glances of the other diners and the restaurant staff that were sure to be directed his way as it became more and more obvious, as the minutes slowly ticked by, that his date for the evening wasn’t going to turn up.

‘Stop worrying, Kerry. I will call the restaurant and make my excuses,’ Darci promised.

‘Dammit, I forgot to tell you!’ Kerry exclaimed. ‘Mellie phoned earlier. She wanted to know how Grant’s premiere went on Thursday.’

Darci frowned. ‘She did?’

‘Stop looking so worried, Darce,’ her friend replied. ‘I wasn’t stupid enough to tell her what you’re up to.’

‘Good.’ Darci breathed her relief.

‘Although I probably should have done,’ Kerry continued. ‘I’m sure Mellie would be the first person to tell you to just let this go.’

‘I am letting it go,’ Darci rejoined. ‘Do stop worrying, Kerry! After tonight I don’t expect to hear from Luc Gambrelli ever again.’

Kerry raised her eyes heavenwards. ‘Let’s hope not.’

‘Just go, and let me enjoy my movie and my popcorn,’ Darci told her friend laughingly, as Kerry still hesitated in the doorway.

She heaved a genuine sigh of relief when her flatmate finally complied. Although Darci had a feeling that Kerry might be right when it came to how Mellie would feel about her interference where Luc Gambrelli was concerned…

Oh, well, it was too late now—and she really did intend to stay well away from the Sicilian in future.

She wait until half past eight before telephoning Garstang’s and asking them to pass a message on to Luc Gambrelli that she wasn’t well and so wouldn’t be able to meet him after all, hastily refusing the offer of having Mr Gambrelli brought to the telephone so that she might tell him that herself; she didn’t want to even hear that sexily persuasive voice again!

But that didn’t mean that she hadn’t thought about Luc Gambrelli a lot over the last two days—that she hadn’t remembered the delicious shiver that had run down her spine as his lips had brushed across the back of her hand, and how her body had responded as he’d detailed how he would like to make love to her, while all the time that devilish sense of humour had glinted in his eyes.

And she had guilty thoughts of him right now, as he sat in the restaurant, waiting for her to arrive, probably under the increasingly pitying gazes of the other customers. Thoughts that kept intruding as she tried to watch her favourite film…

It was only the memory of the way Luc Gambrelli had so callously hurt Mellie that made Darci so certain she had been right to carry out her plan to stand him up tonight. The man simply didn’t have the right to go around breaking women’s hearts without even a backward glance. And especially when that woman was a friend of Darci’s.

Then why did she feel so increasingly uncomfortable about what she had done?

It was ridiculous.

Luc Gambrelli deserved everything he got!

When the doorbell rang, a little after nine o’clock, Darci knew she was relieved at the interruption in her tortuous thoughts. She didn’t in the least mind pausing the DVD to go and answer the door—any visitor would be a welcome diversion.

Until she opened the door and found that visitor was Luc Gambrelli…

Darci gaped at him, rendered totally speechless as she took in how suavely handsome he looked, in a black silk shirt and black tailored trousers worn beneath a tan suede jacket. The latter was almost a perfect match for his overlong, burnished gold hair, and the shirt and trousers gave the strong angles of his face and his superbly moulded mouth a slightly saturnine appearance.

All of it succeeded in making Darci feel completely vulnerable, dressed as she was in men’s striped cotton pyjamas, with her face completely bare of make-up, her hair tousled and her feet bare!

Her legs were in danger of buckling beneath her, she discovered, and she quickly put out a hand to clasp tightly onto the door, the panicky palpitations she could feel in her chest bringing a deep blush to her cheeks.

‘I—What—How—’ She was gabbling like an idiot, Darci recognised disgustedly. ‘What are you doing here?’ She finally managed to string a whole sentence together.

Luc took in Darci’s appearance in one sweeping glance: her tumbling hair, her flushed face, fevered green eyes. His gaze narrowed as he noted the men’s pyjamas she wore and wondered to whom they had originally belonged…

He shrugged broad shoulders. ‘I was concerned about you after receiving your message at the restaurant you weren’t well,’ he responded. ‘So I telephoned Grant and asked him for your address.’

Those green eyes widened. ‘And he just gave it to you?’

‘Why would he not?’ Luc replied.

‘Well, because—because—’ She gave an incredulous shake of her head.

‘Once I had explained to him that the two of us should have been having dinner together this evening he was quite happy to be accommodating,’ Luc assured her smoothly. ‘May I come in?’

‘I—Well—Yes, I suppose so,’ she accepted grudgingly as she moved back from the door.

Luc stepped inside, noting the crumpled duvet on the sofa before turning back to look at Darci. ‘The maître d’ at Garstang’s informed me that you have a fever.’

‘Yes,’ Darci confirmed, hoping the warmth she could feel in her cheeks looked convincing.

Because Luc Gambrelli was a totally disturbing presence in what she had always considered her private sanctum!

He seemed so big—he was well over six feet to her five feet nine inches—and he made the sitting-room seem somehow smaller, his steel-muscled body totally dominating and exuding a power, a barely restrained strength, that caused a rivulet of apprehension to skitter down the length of Darci’s spine.

Did he really believe she was ill? Or was his being here some form of retribution on his part for leaving him sitting in the restaurant all that time?

‘Have you consulted a doctor?’ he demanded to know.

‘I am a doctor,’ Darci informed him, and was rewarded by the raising of dark blond brows as he widened those chocolate-brown eyes.

She hadn’t expected—not in her wildest dreams!—that Luc would actually turn up at her apartment this way after she had stood him up. If she had, she would have kept the door locked and barricaded herself in her bedroom until he went away again!

But she had stopped shaking now, and while her heart was still beating far too wildly in her chest, the palpitations had thankfully ceased.

All she had to do was reassure Luc that her illness wasn’t a hospital case, and then maybe he would leave.

He had to leave!

Because just having him here in her apartment was more unsettling, more disturbing, than anything she had ever known in her life. The overhead light was making his hair appear silkily soft in contrast to the harder planes of his aristocratic face. It was enough to overwhelm a woman’s senses—any woman’s senses!—completely.

In fact, Darci wasn’t sure she didn’t have a fever, after all!

She was definitely more aware of Luc Gambrelli, more physically aware of him, than she had a right to be…

‘And what is your diagnosis?’ Luc persisted, slightly surprised—although why he should be he had no idea—at her choice of profession.

But, in his defence, no doctor he had ever consulted, on the rare occasions that he’d been ill, had ever looked like Darci Wilde.

In fact, he would have thought that just facing all that wild red hair, those come-to-bed green eyes, the full pout of her mouth and the temptation of her full, thrusting breasts across the desk in a doctor’s consulting room would be enough to raise any man’s temperature!

As his own was rising now, as he realised that she wore absolutely nothing beneath those striped pyjamas…

As garments, they shouldn’t have been in the least sexy. They were obviously meant for someone much bigger in size—the shoulders hanging loose and the sleeves falling over the slenderness of her hands, and the trousers only held in place by the tie-string at her slender waist as they bagged about her hips. With their awful green-and-cream striped pattern, the pyjamas should have been anything but sexually alluring. But the low neckline of the jacket revealed the slenderness of Darci’s throat and a creamy expanse of her bare breasts as they thrust pertly, her nipples taut, against the cotton material.

Luc could imagine nothing more erotic than slowly undoing the buttons down the front of the pyjama jacket to reveal those thrusting breasts, then lavishing the full attention of his lips and tongue across her hardened nipples…

‘My diagnosis?’ Darci echoed, moistening her lips before replying, although she was slightly disconcerted as Luc’s dark gaze followed the movement. ‘I have the start of a cold, I believe,’ she dismissed briskly, in an effort to dispel the air of—of—intimacy that slowly seemed to be surrounding the two of them.

Where was the cautious Kerry, the worrier, when Darci most needed her?

Although after Kerry’s anxiety over the last two days, she had a feeling her friend might have little sympathy with Darci’s present predicament. Especially as it was completely self-inflicted! Kerry, without having even met Luc Gambrelli, had warned Darci against interfering, seeming to know instinctively that it would be dangerous to wake this sleeping tiger.

It was a pity that Darci’s instincts hadn’t been as acute!

And that she hadn’t thought to pre-warn Grant that under no circumstances was he to reveal her address to Luc Gambrelli….

But it had never occurred to Darci, as she’d made her fiendish plan to leave Luc Gambrelli sitting at Garstang’s, that he would actually feel concerned enough about her supposed ill-health to actually seek her out!

The man was completely unpredictable, she decided.

‘As I’m sure you appreciate,’ she went on firmly, ‘there’s no actual cure for the common cold, and it’s also highly contagious. In fact, I don’t think you should even be here in the same room with me,’ she added, belatedly registering the intensity of his dark gaze as it roamed freely across her face and body.

Luc gave a slight smile as he recognised her skittishness for exactly what it was. ‘But I couldn’t possibly desert you when you aren’t well,’ he drawled huskily. ‘Do you live here alone?’ he probed, having thought it was rather a large apartment for just one person.

He wondered if the owner of the pyjamas didn’t live here, too… Although he would have thought Grant would be more circumspect about telling him of Darci’s living arrangements if that were the case…

‘My flatmate has gone out this evening,’ Darci informed him. ‘I have two flatmates, actually, but one of them is away at the moment,’ she finished.

Luc quirked blond brows. ‘Male or female?’

‘Both female, of course,’ she came back tartly. ‘Now, I really do think you should leave, Luc—’

‘And I think that you need someone to take care of you—at least until your flatmate returns,’ he cut in decisively as he slipped his jacket off and laid it across one of the chairs. ‘Point me in the direction of the kitchen and I’ll get you something cold to drink. It’s important to keep up your liquids when you have a fever, isn’t it?’ he opined, when she looked totally nonplussed.

Darci couldn’t answer him for several seconds, totally thrown by the expanse of his broad back in the black silk shirt, and by how his muscles rippled beneath the softness of the material.

She had no idea how much time Luc necessarily spent behind a desk for his work, but he obviously made time to work out in a gym: his shoulders were wide and powerful, his chest muscles, and his stomach lean and flat.

In fact, all that lean maleness took her breath away!

Maybe she did have a fever? It would certainly explain the symptoms she was exhibiting: shortness of breath, fevered brow, flushed cheeks and a dry throat.

But she had a feeling that sexual awareness would also explain her ailments—the aching, heavy feeling of her breasts, and the moist heat gathering between her thighs!

She swallowed hard. ‘There really is no need for you to stay, Luc. I was about to go to bed anyway—’ She broke off, her eyes wide, and gave Luc an awkward glance for what she had just said.

Luc gave a knowing smile at her obvious discomfort. ‘Surely, Darci, you don’t imagine that I’m about to take advantage of your weakened state?’ he mocked softly, all the time knowing that was exactly what he had been thinking of doing!

In fact, he seemed to have thought of nothing else, anticipated nothing else, but taking this woman to bed for the last two days. The memory of those challenging green eyes, her temptingly full lips and the lush promise of her body had intruded into his thoughts all too often during the last forty-eight hours.

Finding her here wearing nothing but those disreputable pyjamas was doing absolutely nothing for his tenuous restraint!

‘Of course not,’ she dismissed sharply, her moss-green gaze no longer meeting his. ‘I—You’ll find some juice in the fridge in the kitchen.’ Reluctantly, she pointed him in the right direction.

In keeping with the Georgian building in which the flat was housed, the kitchen was long and rambling, with a large work-table in its centre and a breakfast bar at one end, at which it was possible to sit and eat. The room was obviously normally at the centre of life in this spacious apartment. The pots and pans hanging on one wall showed evidence of frequent use, along with the dried herbs set next to the Aga range, for adding to each dish as it was prepared.

A capable cook himself when there was the need, Luc could easily envisage cooking a meal in here with Darci—with or without the pyjamas.

Preferably without!

His body hardened just at the thought of a naked Darci moving effortlessly around the kitchen as they prepared a meal together, at the image of the fullness of her naked breasts, and those lean hips and thighs with a triangle of fiery red hair at their apex…

Having arrived at Garstang’s on time this evening, he had been at first irritated, then worried, when Darci hadn’t arrived at the restaurant at the appointed time. Then the pendulum had swung to anger as the minutes had ticked by with no sign of her arrival nor a telephone call to explain her tardiness.

It had been almost a relief when James, the maître d’ had approached his table with the message that Darci had telephoned and was unable to join him after all because she wasn’t well.

Almost…

Because Luc hadn’t been fooled for a minute by the telephone message. In fact, he was sure that James hadn’t been, either. The surprised look in the other man’s eyes had been in complete contrast to his politely bland expression! Luc knew that if Darci had really been ill, she would have telephoned the restaurant much earlier than she had to inform him she wasn’t able to join him.

Which meant she had to have deliberately left him waiting at the table in Garstang’s.

The question was, why had she?

Luc had been a little taken aback two evenings ago when Darci had made it a condition of their date that he take her somewhere sinfully expensive if he wanted her to meet him at all. The fact that she then hadn’t even bothered to turn up had intrigued him enough for him to take the unprecedented step of contacting Grant in order to ask for his sister’s address.

Grant’s surprise that his sister and Luc were actually supposed to be out on a date together this evening had been even more interesting, and posed the question why hadn’t Darci informed her twin on Thursday evening that she had agreed to have dinner with Luc tonight?

Luc had a lot of questions where Darci Wilde was concerned.

Questions, one way or another, he was determined to have answers to…

CHAPTER FOUR

‘DRINK some of this. It will make you feel better.’

Darci, sitting cross-legged on the sofa, turned frowningly to take the glass of orange juice from Luc’s long tapered fingers, feeling like a fraud at his unexpected display of kindness.

Who would have thought that the heartless Luc Gambrelli, after having been informed Darci wasn’t well, would actually come here like this and offer to care for her until Kerry returned later this evening?

Darci certainly hadn’t.

It didn’t exactly fit in with her image of him as a selfish playboy, did it? she acknowledged, a troubled frown creasing her brow as she sipped the cold juice.

Maybe—

‘I also brought you this,’ Luc murmured, before placing something against her forehead.

That ‘something’ was several ice cubes wrapped in cling film which, once placed against Darci’s forehead, made her arch up in surprise. Her back stiffened as the intense cold was almost painful against her overheated skin.

‘Good grief!’ she gasped breathlessly, and she struggled to sit up—the action made harder because of the way she was sitting cross-legged. Her awkwardness dislodged the makeshift ice-pack and caused the cling film to burst open and scatter the ice cubes.

Most of them down the front of Darci’s pyjama jacket!

‘Oh, dear,’ Luc said ruefully as Darci, her entangled legs making it difficult for her to stand up, flapped the pyjama jacket in an effort to stop the icy cubes coming into contact with her flesh. The movement gave Luc, as he stood behind the sofa, tantalising glimpses of her bared breasts…

They were firm and uptilting, their nipples rose-pink, hard and enticing, causing his own flesh to burn, to stiffen, as his body responded.

Luc took a step around the sofa. ‘Would you like me to—?’

‘Don’t even think about it!’ Darci cut in warningly as she finally managed to stand up, allowing half a dozen ice cubes to fall onto the carpeted floor as she backed away from him. ‘You did that on purpose!’ she accused furiously, her cheeks flushed, her green eyes sparkling.

Much as they would look when she was sexually rather than emotionally aroused…

‘I was merely trying to help, Darci,’ he contradicted. Her pyjama jacket was damp in several places now, the wetness of the material clinging to her luscious curves…

‘By almost giving me a heart attack?’ she scorned. ‘I don’t think so!’

Luc didn’t think so, either, having considered, as he took the ice cubes out of the freezer to put into her drink, that perhaps a cold awakening was the least Darci deserved for what he was now convinced had been a deliberate ploy on her part to stand him up this evening.

Since arriving at her apartment, Luc had noted the look of absolute horror on Darci’s face when she’d opened the door and found him standing there, had taken in at a glance the almost empty bowl of popcorn in the sitting-room and the fact that the DVD player was on ‘Pause’, and had become convinced that Darci was no more ill than he was! Before he’d arrived she had obviously been lying on the sofa indulging herself by watching a movie and eating popcorn. Toffee popcorn, he had noted irrelevantly.

The fact that she had decided to continue with the deception of her supposed illness had brought out a need for retribution in him. Hence the deliberately precarious cling film wrap on the ice cubes…

‘Now, why on earth would you even suggest that I should deliberately cause those ice cubes to fall?’ he asked with feigned innocence.

Darci didn’t know—surely Luc couldn’t have guessed that her excuse about being ill in order to avoid their date this evening had been a complete fabrication?—she was only sure that he had.

‘Because—Well, because—’ She broke off as Luc took another step towards her, taking a step back herself as she easily read the intent in those dark, compelling eyes.

Luc Gambrelli was going to kiss her!

‘I told you not to even think about it!’ she warned sharply as, her gaze fixed on his, she continued to back away—only to come to an abrupt halt as her back hit the wall.

Leaving her trapped by the obviously determined Luc Gambrelli.

‘Stay away from me,’ she told him breathlessly, eyes wide with apprehension as he continued to move stealthily towards her.

Like the stalking predator he was…

‘Are you sure that’s what you really want, Darci?’ he questioned, and he took the two steps that brought him to stand dangerously close to her.

Darci wasn’t sure of anything any more—except that she didn’t dare allow Luc Gambrelli to kiss her.

Because, against all reasoning, all her inner warnings that this man was a consummate flirt, as well as being a selfish playboy, she wanted him to kiss her!

Her body ached with wanting to feel his hard sculptured lips against hers, her nipples were tingling with awareness, and her inner thighs were warm—becoming warmer by the second!

‘I didn’t think so, Darci,’ he said, his gaze steadily holding hers as he reached out to smooth her hair back over her shoulders, before stroking his fingertips from the hollows at the base of her throat down to the valley between her breasts.

She couldn’t breathe—had forgotten how to breathe!—as the touch of those lean, caressing fingers seemed to burn against her flesh. She was completely mesmerised as Luc’s head slowly lowered to hers and he claimed her lips with his—gently, softly, enticingly—sipping from her lips, parting them with the tip of his tongue. The hardness of his thighs, pressed intimately against hers, told her of his own arousal…

Darci had no idea what was happening to her as her body curved weakly into his, was only aware that in Luc’s arms she had become someone different, someone she didn’t recognise. Her body felt full and lush, her breasts and thighs sensitive to his pressing demand, all of her senses now screaming for his intimate touch.

As his lips became heated on hers, as he deepened this kiss and his hand moved to cup beneath one throbbing breast, his thumb stroking unerringly across the hardened tip, Darci forgot everything and everyone else, able only to feel and taste Luc.

Her hands were crushed against his chest, against warm skin and solid muscle, and every inch of him was hard male as his mouth continued to plunder and capture hers, his tongue seeking out every secret as it probed and caressed and duelled with hers. Her throat arched instinctively as he broke that kiss to trail moist kisses against that sensitive column, down to the creamy swell of her breasts, his hands now busy with the buttons down the front of her pyjama jacket.

He looked up, his gaze easily holding hers captive as he peeled the sides of the jacket back, his eyes darkening appreciatively as he finally looked down at the naked fullness of her breasts.

‘You’re beautiful,’ he groaned achingly, and his head lowered.

Darci barely had time to draw in a ragged breath before his mouth closed moistly over one turgid nipple, drawing its fullness into his warmth as his tongue licked and stroked its ultra-sensitive tip and his other hand captured its twin, to caress and roll the peak between his fingertips. Waves of restless need washed over her as she felt herself swelling, as hot moisture pulsed between her thighs.

Luc had never tasted anything, anyone, as delicious as Darci. Her breast was pure nectar as he drank his fill of her with his lips and tongue, as he laved her nipple, sucking harder on that dusky tip as she held his head cradled against her and he heard her throaty groans of pleasure.

He continued to suckle her breast as his hand moved to the tie on her pyjama bottoms, deftly releasing the bow to let them fall to the floor so that he might touch the flesh beneath, seeking, caressing, gently cupping her there. He was able to feel her fiery heat, her dampness, her legs parting as she completely opened herself to him.

Her hands moved up to grasp his shoulders as he made his claim on her heat, stroking those soft, moist lips so that she arched against him.

She was on fire with need, Darci acknowledged, as she moved to allow Luc greater access between her legs. Her neck arched, thrusting her breast into his mouth as he entered her with first one finger and then two. His thumb sought out the hard nub above and he stroked her to a sobbing release that caught her and carried her over the edge of an abyss, as wave after wave of heat and sensation made her body pulse and contract in pure pleasure.

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