His Poor Little Rich Girl (13 page)

‘I had some luck but most of it was hard work,’ he said. ‘I didn’t want to waste any opportunity that came along. I worked hard, got to understand things from the ground up, and then made the most of the opportunities that arose. I am no different from any other self-made businessman. You don’t have to be born to wealth to be successful.’

She picked up her glass for something to do with her hands. ‘I’ve always wanted to explain about that night … the night of my engagement.’

‘Forget about it,’ Alessandro said. ‘Even if you had felt something for me your father would have forbidden any connection between us. He would have cut you off without a penny.’

‘If I had loved you I wouldn’t have let my father’s opinions matter one little bit,’ she said. ‘Love is worth much more than any amount of money.’

Alessandro curled his lip in a mocking manner. ‘So in spite of your broken engagement your head is still full of romantic notions about true love, is it?’

‘I believe in love,’ she said. ‘I believe it’s possible to find fulfilment in a relationship with someone. I think it takes work but I still believe it’s possible to have a long and happy
life with a partner, growing and changing together rather than drifting apart.’

‘So you intend to marry and have children one day?’ he asked.

Rachel toyed again with the rim of her glass. ‘I would like to think that is going to be a part of my future,’ she said. ‘I can’t see the point in working hard for years on end with no one to share it with. Life is all about connecting with others. It’s too lonely otherwise.’

A small silence ensued as Alessandro topped up their glasses.

‘What about you?’ Rachel asked. ‘Do you see yourself settling down one day with a wife and family?’

He put the wine bottle back in its cooler before he answered. ‘I have no immediate plans to do so.’ He gave a small rueful twist of his mouth. ‘I find relationships hard work. I am not good at long-term commitment. No doubt it comes from my background, the lack of good modelling or a strong sense of family or something. The longest relationship I have had was six weeks. The last two of them were some of the most miserable days of my life and hers too, I would imagine. We didn’t part as friends.’

‘Did you love her?’

‘No.’

‘Did she love you?’

‘She loved the lifestyle I could give her,’ he said. ‘Most if not all women I have met do. But no amount of luxury holidays and gifts of expensive jewellery can make up for not being connected on the levels that count.’

‘I don’t agree that most women fall in love with a rich man’s lifestyle,’ Rachel said. ‘You make us all sound like a bunch of greedy, shallow gold-diggers who don’t care about
anything but their hair and clothes and how many carats are in the diamonds in their ears or around their necks. I think you’ve been hanging around the wrong women way too long. You need to get out more, to mix in other circles for a change.’

He gave her an indolent smile. ‘Maybe before you leave you could set me up with someone you think would be suitable. Someone who could make me change my mind. Do you have anyone in mind?’

Rachel felt that funny little fluttery pulse between her thighs again. Every time he looked at her a certain way she felt another piece of her armour slip away. He was so attractive when he was in a teasing mood. He was attractive in just about any mood, which was even more alarming to her. She found his brooding looks just as mesmerising as his playful ones. And she still hadn’t been able to forget about that kiss in the gym. Nor had she forgotten the feel of his hard body pressing down on hers, the way it had made her feel, the ache and longing that were still burning deep inside her. ‘I am sure you are quite capable of finding a partner all by yourself,’ she said with a touch of asperity. ‘I have no qualifications as a matchmaker. I haven’t exactly had the best of luck myself in the relationships area.’

‘Perhaps we are two of a kind, Rachel,’ he said, still with that lazy half-smile. ‘Two people who are unlucky in love.’ He picked up his glass and touched it against hers. ‘Let us drink a toast. To finding what we both want.’

Rachel sipped her wine, wondering what exactly it was that Alessandro wanted. He had said sleeping with him was optional but she could feel the undercurrent of sexual tension in the air when they were together. A simmering tension that seemed to build as each minute passed. She could feel it now, especially when he looked at her with those intensely
dark blue eyes. She felt as if she were being cast under a spell. The more time she spent with him, the more she felt her defences crumbling. He might have been the one in lust with her in the past, but this time around she was being drawn to him in a way she could neither explain nor control. She had never thought of herself as a particularly sensual person and her experience with Craig had only reinforced that. His criticisms of her had cut her deeply, making her feel unlovable and unattractive. Sex had been a physical act that hadn’t touched her at all emotionally. But Alessandro challenged all of her assumptions about herself. With him she felt alive sensually. With him she felt desire hot and strong. With him she felt a need that would not go away.

But it would
have
to go away if she was to come out of this arrangement with her emotions intact. He wasn’t interested in anything other than a temporary dalliance. He had signed her up for a limited time and she would do well to remember it. This was a contract relationship, a business transaction that had no emotional bearing whatsoever. She would be a fool to fall in love with him now. It was too late. The chance for love had been five years ago. Why hadn’t she realised it at the time? She looked at him across the table and felt her heart tighten painfully. She had missed her chance with him. There was no going back.

It was too late.

‘Is everything all right?’ Alessandro asked.

Rachel gave him a rueful look. ‘I was just thinking about how different things would have been if I’d had more time with you back then.’

His gaze steadied on hers, holding it for a beat or two. ‘We weren’t exactly strangers, Rachel. I’d been working for your father for three years.’

‘I know, but I was only starting to get to know you when we started dating,’ she said. ‘I think I was only starting to get to know myself …’

His smile was fleeting. ‘You were young and used to living a certain way. It would never have worked between us.’

Rachel wondered if that were true. Did a difference in background really matter? Even royalty married commoners these days and lived happily together. Alessandro had qualities she had never seen in any other man. She suspected his difficult upbringing had given him a depth of wisdom that someone from a privileged background could never possess.

The meal progressed until it was time to clear away. Rachel pushed back from the table but Alessandro’s hand came down on hers and held her fast. Her eyes met his, heat pooling in her belly when she saw the dark blue flame of his gaze. ‘Thank you for doing dinner,’ he said. ‘I am sorry I can’t be of much help in clearing away.’

Rachel felt the burn of his touch, making every pore of her skin tingle. ‘That’s OK,’ she said huskily. ‘I’ll make coffee and bring it into the salon, shall I?’

He slowly released her hand. ‘That would be perfect,’ he said. ‘I will meet you in there in a few minutes. I have a call to make.’

When Rachel came into the salon a short time later Alessandro was sitting in one of the leather sofas, his long legs stretched out in front of him. The crutches were against the wall close by. He put his mobile phone away and moved his legs as she put the coffee on the table in front of him.

He patted the seat beside him. ‘Come,’ he said. ‘Don’t hover over there as if you are afraid I am going to bite you.’

Rachel came over and sat down beside him, careful not
to allow her thighs to get too close to his. But even so she felt the warmth of his body, and the citrus spice of his aftershave made her long to lean closer to breathe more of its intoxicating and alluring scent. It had been a mistake to sit beside him. She knew it as soon as he turned his head to look at her. There was no way she could disguise her reaction to him. Her breathing was all over the place, her heart rate rising as every pulsing second passed.

He put a finger to her temple where a strand of her hair had fallen across, his touch so light and tender as he brushed it back from her forehead it made her breath hitch in her throat. ‘Like silk,’ he said, picking up another tiny strand and running it through his fingers. ‘Your hair is like spun silk.’

‘It’s too fine and I can never control it,’ she said. ‘Sometimes I think I should just cut it all off.’

He cupped the back of her head, his fingers setting every sensory nerve on her scalp alight. ‘No, don’t do that,’ he said, his eyes locking on hers, dark, intense, serious.

Rachel sent the tip of her tongue out over her lips, a nervous, anticipatory gesture she couldn’t quite control in time. She watched as his eyes moved to her mouth, and the way his tongue did the very same thing over the much dryer landscape of his lips, leaving a faint glisten of moisture that instantly disappeared. She brought her hand up, her index finger tracing the line of his mouth in intimate detail, the smooth skin of her fingertip catching on the dry lines of his lips. ‘You should use lip balm when you go to bed at night,’ she said in a voice that was so soft it was close to a whisper.

His eyes were even darker now as they came back to hers. ‘Is that what you do to keep your lips so soft?’ he asked, placing the pad of his broad thumb on the pillow of her bottom
lip, moving it back and forth in a slow caress that sent the sensitive nerves into a frenzy.

‘I—I sometimes forget …’ she said, swallowing as his mouth inched closer.

‘I guess it becomes a habit if you do it often enough,’ he said just above her lips, his voice low and deep and raspy.

‘Yes … it just becomes part of your nightly routine,’ she said, mesmerised by his mouth so close now she could feel his warm breath on her lips.

‘Like flossing and brushing your teeth,’ he said, caressing her top lip this time, taking his time over the bee-sting curve.

‘Yes …’ She could barely take in a breath; her chest felt so tight, her heart hammering now.

His hands cupped her face, his thumbs either side of her mouth, touching the sensitive corners. ‘I’ve been doing some thinking. If we are to convince others of the authenticity of our relationship we should really practise our moves a little more.’

Rachel’s heart gave a tumble. ‘Moves?’ ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Like kissing, touching, all the things lovers do in public.’

Her forehead crinkled slightly. ‘But I thought—’ He silenced her with both of his thumbs pressing softly against her lips. ‘Don’t think,
cara,’
he said. ‘Just feel what is there between us. Feel the chemistry. Feel the electricity. Feel the heat.’

Rachel could feel the heat all right. She could feel it through the pads of his thumbs on her lips. She could feel it in her breasts, the tingles of her skin making her ache for him to touch her there. She felt it in her lower body, the feminine heart of her contracting with a pulse of longing that was
activated just by him looking at her. It was magnified a thousandfold with his touch. She moved her lips against the soft pressure of his touch, her tongue pushing through to make contact. She saw the flare of his pupils and heard the intake of his breath as he moved his thumbs aside and brought his head down and sealed her mouth with his.

It was an erotic, heart-stopping kiss. It brought her senses alive in a way she had never imagined possible. She felt every movement of his mouth on hers, every subtle turn, every slide or glide, every dart and thrust of his tongue as he took the kiss to a deeper, far more intimate level. Her insides melted as he pushed her further back on the leather sofa, his weight coming over her, his chest crushing her breasts, making her aware of her tightly erect nipples and how they longed for more of his touch. She felt the stirring of his erection against her feminine mound, the temptation of having him inside her, the feeling of the friction of his body against hers totally and utterly overwhelming. She pushed up against him with her pelvis, aching for more contact, her need for him so desperate she made soft little whimpering sounds that came from deep inside her. It was as if a longing had been unleashed, an inner yearning she had never even realised she possessed until now.

He pushed down against her, the primal grinding of his male body against hers reminding her of everything that was different about them: his maleness, her femaleness, his hardness, her softness. The pounding of his blood as he rocked in time with her delighted her, making her realise just how much she had underestimated the chemistry that had always existed between them. It burned like a fire between them. It was a conflagration of the senses. They had only to be in the same room as each other for it to fire off. She felt that fire
now. She felt it in every part of her body, especially now as his tongue curled around hers, calling hers into a sexy combat that mimicked what their bodies craved above all else. She felt it in the tautness of his muscles, the knife-edge tension, and the crawling need of the flesh that was like a thirst that could not be denied. She was thirsty. She was parched. She was desperate to be filled with the essence of him, to feel her female world tipped on its axis, to feel the possession of his body as she had never felt before.

‘I shouldn’t have started this.’ Alessandro pulled back from her, his weight supported by his elbows as he looked down at her.

Rachel didn’t want to stop. She wanted it to continue. She wanted it all. She wanted to feel him take her to the place she knew existed but had never felt personally. She wanted to feel what it felt like to have two bodies totally in tune with each other, the chemistry just right, the need to be fulfilled overtaking any other caution. She didn’t want to think about why she was here and how it had been engineered. She didn’t want to think about the fact that he was intent on revenge. All she wanted to think about was how much she wanted him and he wanted her. That was all that counted. It was not something he could deny, no matter how much he said to the contrary. She had felt it. She could still feel it. She felt it in her own body. It was a raging inferno of need that refused to be damped down with a thimbleful of common sense, which was all she possessed right now.