Under the Italian's Command (7 page)

Because like a cup of hot chocolate thick enough to stand a spoon in, Lorenzo
Domenico
was wicked, but irresistible.

Carly’s
hope of presenting the perfect canapé faltered at the entrance of the twenty-four-hour supermarket. She stood outside staring through the plate-glass window at people fighting over Christmas food and just knew she couldn’t face it. Turning on her heel, she hurried across the street towards Greasy Jo’s. The local pizza
parlour
had never let her down…

By half past seven she was back at the flat carving up pizza in the kitchen. She heard the front door open and Lorenzo and his friend come in.

Lorenzo and male friend…

Thank goodness! She wasn’t sure that even for the sake of the scholarship she could have waited on some It girl with the
hots
for Lorenzo!

Giving her hands a final lick, she wiped them down the front of her jeans, and then, picking up the platter of oozing pizza, she backed her way into the sitting room and turned around with a flourish. ‘Gentlemen…’

Two pieces of pizza flew off the plate.

She ignored the startled glances and carried on. Dipping low, she offered, ‘Gorgonzola and gherkin, pickled onion and pastrami, or…’ and she was rather proud of this one ‘…squid ink and pineapple…’

Beneath his tan Lorenzo paled. ‘Thank you,
Carly
. Perhaps you’d like to put them down over there?’ He indicated the furthest corner of the room. ‘And then perhaps you’d like to pour the chilled white wine?’ He said this in a slightly harder voice.

The chilled white wine?

‘Of course…’ She gave a little laugh, scooping up the pizza on the floor as she made her escape.

Exchanging an amused shrug with his friend as he went to retrieve the plate, Lorenzo said, ‘Excuse my pupil. She’s embarked on a rather steep learning curve—’

‘Drawn up by you?’ Ronan’s lips pressed down. ‘Pass the pizza, will you? I’m starving.’

‘Me too,’ Lorenzo confessed. He and Ronan had been students together; they’d eat anything. Not that
Carly
needed to know that! ‘So, what
d’you
think of her?’

‘You’re a lucky man. She’s gorgeous.’

‘Do you think so?’ He played it cool.

Ronan gave him a look. ‘How long do you intend to keep up the tough-tutor act?’

‘For as long as it takes.’

Ronan raised his yet-to-be-filled glass in a toast to him, while he called unrepentantly, ‘
Carly
—wine.’

‘Lorenzo…’ Ronan remonstrated, shaking his head in disapproval.

But he knew he’d be lucky if he didn’t get that wine poured over his head, Lorenzo thought, already smiling as he anticipated the banter that would ensue between him and
Carly
once Ronan left.

Carly
ignored Lorenzo’s summons. Leaning against the kitchen door, she thought back to when she had been such a together sort of person—that was before Lorenzo came along, of course. Now she barely knew her own name, let alone remembered to chill the wine. There was only one thing for it…

Rinsing off some ice cubes from the back of the box, she dropped them into the wineglasses, filled them to the brim with warm white wine and stirred vigorously.

Lorenzo’s stare found her face like a heat-seeking missile the moment she came back into the room. Lifting the wineglass, he held it up to the light without comment.

‘So you liked the pizza?’ she said with relief, glad something had gone well. She handed Ronan a glass of wine.

‘We had to throw it down,’ Lorenzo said solemnly, staring out of the window.

‘Into the dumper?’
Carly
exclaimed, glancing in the same direction and then at the empty plate. But even as she gasped she was sure she saw Lorenzo exchange one of his wicked grins with Ronan. As she stood there the two men clinked their glasses, and with gusto the ice cubes collided.

‘Ice?’ Lorenzo’s stare didn’t so much burn into her as presage Armageddon.

Ronan tried to soften the situation, suggesting pleasantly, ‘Aren’t you going to join us,
Carly
?’

He turned to look at his friend as a stab of something unaccustomed took him by surprise. It wasn’t jealousy, of course, more head-of-the-herd instinct. Well, Ronan was no angel, and it was up to him to defend his pupil. ‘My apologies,
Carly
,’ he said sternly. ‘Allow me to present Ronan O’Connor, a friend of mine and a trader in futures. Ronan, this is my pupil,
Carly
Tate…’

Ronan gave
Carly
a sympathetic look as he stood to shake her hand.

‘We’re discussing the possibility of extending the Unicorn scholarship to the City,’ Lorenzo explained to
Carly
. ‘Would you care to join us?’

Sit between them while they drank Lorenzo’s expensive wine, which she had watered down with ice cubes? No, thank you! It was time to head for the badlands away from Lorenzo’s accusing stare!

She didn’t want to brood in her bedroom either,
Carly
realised
, not with Lorenzo in her head darkly mocking. She was going to dress up, go out, and show him!

After making a somewhat feeble excuse about leaving the men to it, she went to her room to get ready. Faded jeans wouldn’t cut it, and so she ditched them in
favour
of a black spangled top from a charity shop, along with a short denim skirt from the same place. And then, because she’d always known they’d come in useful, she unpacked the killer heels she’d bought at the sale.

Lorenzo would never guess it was all a sham. The tip tap of heels on a laminate floor would tell him everything she wanted him to know. She was a sophisticated city girl in full control of her life.

THE BAR CARLY was heading for was popular with young city types, and tonight it seemed busier than ever. Odd for midweek, but perhaps not when you considered that this was the lead up to Christmas…

Peering in through the tinted windows, she felt daunted. She had only been for a drink in a crowd before. She tried to identify a free table before taking the plunge, but then a few spots of rain hit her in the face, forcing her to act.

Noise and warmth hit her as she walked inside. An earnest young man in designer jeans and a smart black top came towards her right away. ‘Ah, good,’ he said, as if he had been expecting her. ‘You’re just in time.’ Without any explanation he grabbed her elbow and started steering her through the throng. She was about to protest he’d got the wrong person, but then she noticed he was leading her towards an empty table. At least she’d get the chance to sit down and read her book.
Buzzy
? The place was heaving.

At least this wasn’t Lorenzo’s type of place,
Carly
consoled herself, pulling out her novel. But as she tried to read Lorenzo’s face replaced the cover, the first page, the second, and the—Slamming the book shut, she tried to attract a waiter. This was an emergency! What she needed was coffee: hot, sweet and strong.

Lorenzo made coffee and then settled down with Ronan to chat about old times, but he kept thinking about
Carly
and an image of her alone and unprotected in the city sharpened in his mind.

He’d caught sight of her as she click-clacked past the door, and she’d been dressed up by
Carly’s
standards. Surely he’d have heard on the chambers grapevine if there’d been a party, which left a meeting in a bar or in a restaurant. It had to be close by because she hadn’t called a taxi, and the nearest tube or bus stop was over a mile away. She had definitely planned to walk, but not far in those heels…

It was pitch-black outside and the rain was turning to sleet. He couldn’t kid himself any longer; he’d been hard on her and that was why she’d gone out. What was more important to him?
Carly’s
safety and happiness, or an evening chatting with his pal?

‘Oh, no, thank you, I brought a book with me…’

‘But not this book,’ the young woman said confidently,
plonking
one from the pile in her arms down in front of
Carly
before disappearing back into the crowd.

She tried to attract the attention of an attendant to hand the glossy booklet back. She was here to relax, not to be drawn into something that put such a flush on people’s faces.

Having failed, she found as she had suspected that it wasn’t so much a book as a marketing tool, entitled, Raise Your Market Value, but it was the subheading that caught her attention: ‘Make contact, make chat, make love…’ She jerked around to take a closer look at everyone else in the bar.

‘Is this chair free?’

She panicked and stood up.

‘Please don’t go,’ the man said plaintively. ‘I’m desperate to make contact with something other than a cyber chip—’

Knocked back into her seat by a fresh rush of people she made a silent pledge to give it five minutes and then she was out of here.

‘Is this your first time?’ the man asked her.

And the last,
Carly
decided, noticing he seemed fixated by her breasts.

‘We’ve made a good start, haven’t we?’ he said.

Had they? Had they made a good start? If so she was giving out the wrong signals! Glancing round, she dreaded Lorenzo walking in, and yet wished he would.

Then just as a bell sounded a man stepped out of the rain. The collar of his rugged jacket was pulled up tight, revealing a hint of the casual
chequered
shirt underneath. Snug-fitting blue jeans teamed with workman-like boots added to the piratical image created by the rough, dark stubble on his face. His unruly black hair curled damply round his
chiselled
cheekbones, and his eyes were narrowed as he searched the room.

Lorenzo!

Waitresses swarmed round him, and then looked her way.

Escape! was the only thought in her head, but the bell had been a signal for everyone to move, or so it seemed. She was jostled and staggered as she tottered determinedly towards the nearest door. The handle seemed so temptingly close, yet as she launched herself forward to grab it the man who had been at her table got in the way.

‘No,’ he said, shaking his arm free as she clutched hold of him to steady herself. ‘Only we men move around. You women have to stay at your table.’

‘I’m sorry?’

‘You’ve had your five minutes with me,’ he explained self-importantly. ‘If I tick your box at the end of the evening you might get five minutes more.’

Tick her box?
Urgh
! That sounded horrible! But the thought of Lorenzo delivering one of his fire-and-thunder sermons was even worse—

Deciding the man was the best shield she’d got,
Carly
hid behind him, but he made some rude comment, which prompted everyone to turn to look at them. And now Lorenzo was staring too!

‘Ah, there you are,’ Lorenzo said with satisfaction. ‘What’s this about?’ His dark gaze switched to the face of the other man, forcing a nervous laugh from him.

‘Perhaps you should ask your young lady—’

‘Perhaps I will,’ Lorenzo said icily. ‘Intending to take advantage of her, were you?’ he suggested.

‘Not at all! She came on to me—’

‘To you?’ Lorenzo’s raised brow was enough for some of his audience to start laughing.

‘Yes. I think she was trying to kiss me!’ Shock! Horror! ‘She doesn’t seem to appreciate the finer points of speed dating. The regulations demand—’

Speed dating? What a
clutz
!
Carly
felt as if someone had sewn a running thread through her stomach and pulled it tight.

‘To which regulations are you referring?’ Lorenzo demanded in his deceptively mild court tone, commanding everyone’s attention.

‘We get given five minutes with each woman, and then I tick her box if I’m interested. I haven’t made up my mind yet,’ the man declared with affront.

‘I think you have,’ Lorenzo told him. ‘Did you come on to this man?’ he demanded, switching his attention to
Carly
. ‘Did you want him to kiss you?’

‘Of course not!’ she protested hotly in possibly the most humiliating moment of her whole life.

‘Then why did you come here?’ the man cut in.

‘If you want a kiss so badly, I’ll kiss you,’ Lorenzo offered.

Was there anyone else in the world who could accidentally speed date? He thought not. And it only made
Carly
all the more adorable in his eyes. How alone she must have felt to come here in the first place. And whose fault was that? Time to make amends.

Carly
gulped as Lorenzo dragged her into his arms. What happened next was less a kiss, and more a lifetime achievement award in seduction, and it went on and on until people started applauding. First he laced his fingers through her hair, while with his other hand he caressed her cheeks. He made her feel as if she were the most beautiful woman in the world, stroking her jaw with his thumb as he kissed her, and kissing her so tenderly she could hardly believe this was what people did. And then the kiss morphed into something so stirring and passionate, she had to wonder if he’d forgotten himself as he plunged and withdrew in what was surely a dress rehearsal for a performance she had no part in.

Drawing back at last, he stared deep into her eyes, and then, taking her by surprise, he came back for more. This couldn’t be a mistake, could it? She hoped not. Lorenzo’s face was still cold from the night air, and his stubble felt rough against her cheek, but his lips were hot with a persuasive heat that ran riot through her body and as he continued to kiss her their audience egged them on.

‘I think I’d better get you out of here,’ he said, pulling away at last.

He was still holding on to her. ‘I think you better had,’
Carly
agreed, her eyes sparkling like diamonds.