Far From Perfect (10 page)

He couldn’t bear the thought of anyone hurting her, but knew that his out-of-control actions of last night had probably done just that.

Not at the time though. She’d been right there with him, his passionate match, her magnificent erotic spirit rising exquisitely to his touch. But in the aftermath, when she’d flown the room, he’d realized to his chagrin that he’d taken far too much from her far too soon. Again.

What the hell is the matter with me?
Shame at his own sexual greed washed through him. With any other woman I’d have been far subtler and more circumspect.

“Are you all right, Anna?”

Self-disgust made his voice sound far harsher than he’d intended. “You’ve gone as white as milk.”

“It’s nothing. I’m all right.” Visibly pulling herself together, she straightened and tried to free herself from the grip he suddenly realized he was exerting on her. He released her instantly, then watched her rub at her wrist.

Per Dio
, had he hurt her physically too now?

“It is rather a long time since breakfast,” she conceded, “Maybe I’ll have one of those sandwiches after all.”

“Excellent, I’ll see where they are.” Starting to rise, it was his turn to feel himself restrained. Boldly, she’d caught hold of his wrist, and it felt like the charge from an electric cattle prod had shot clean through his body. He only prayed his wayward cock wouldn’t react too obviously. It had a habit of betraying him whenever he got too near to her.

“No rush.” As she released him he experienced an immediate pang of untenable loss. It had only been his wrist, yet the contact had been heavenly. “We do need to talk, Nick. You’re right,” she offered, her voice hesitant as if talking to him was the last thing she wanted to do.

Oh, now she was prepared to talk?

Nick felt a rush of illogical irritation. He’d been the one who’d forced this conversation, but faced with it, he suddenly wished they could avoid it.

Why couldn’t they have a pleasant, companionable lunch instead? Just be friends and get to know one another properly again? He suddenly realized he craved that just as much as he desired her beautiful, lithe body. Perhaps even more…

But she did look beautiful.

Anna was so full of surprises, of new variations, each one delighting him in a different way to the last. He thought of the flirty little dress she’d worn at the party—that had suggested rather than revealed her shape in a way that had been both elegant and provocative.

Then there had been that shapeless feed sack of a dressing gown, which against all reason had still turned him on with thoughts of what was so voluminously concealed beneath it.

And now, here she was in this sober but feminine little suit, its slim dark grey skirt just brushing her delectable knees. He loved the way the neat white shirt she wore with it seemed to highlight the faultless beauty of her face and the elfin perfection of her short golden hair.

Anna frowned, and Nick realized he must have been staring at her, with a no doubt inappropriate expression of male sexual appraisal on his face.

She’s driving me mad
, he thought, feeling a rare moment of confused despair.
Why does this always happen?

With other women, even in the most intense relationships, even in the steamiest, most rampant encounters in bed, he could always maintain a measure of detachment, of control. But with Anna, he was totally connected, all the time, every bit of him centered on her.

So. Talk. Yes.
Per Dio
, let’s get on with it.

And as he marshaled the facts of their situation, applying all the logic he could, one monumental issue immediately reared its head. One he suspected Anna really wanted to gloss over, get around, and generally pretend didn’t exist. Well, she was going to have to face it. Right now. And so was he.

“So,
cara
,” he began, relaxing back more comfortably on the sofa, fixing his eyes on hers, “When you explain to your boyfriend about our engagement, will you mention what happened last night in the kitchen?”

It hit her so hard she appeared to almost physically reel, and remorse struck Nick a reciprocal blow.

He’d done it again, just moments after resolving to behave himself. Surely he could have been more delicate? More considerate? It seemed not. When he was around her he just charged ahead regardless like some hormone-crazed Neanderthal.

But how could he not be aroused? Her heart-shaped face was flushed with the most tantalizing wild roses, the glow so very similar to the hectic color brought on by orgasm. And her huge green eyes were as brilliant as they were in the throes of sex. She was even breathing hard, just as she’d done when his body had been pressed against hers last night.

“Last night was a hideous mistake. It shouldn’t have happened. You’ve got to forget it.” Her voice was low, gritty with intent.

“Aren’t those supposed to be my lines?” Nick cut back, caught on the edge not only by the awful irony of her words, but also by the intense sensuality of her brightly fevered appearance.

“Maybe so, but it’s my turn to speak them now. Because that’s how I feel.”

Nick shook inside. He could feel a whirlwind fighting to rise inside him. The same volatile lack of sense, control and moderation that in his father had created a living hell for his mother. He tamped it down ruthlessly.

“Well, I don’t regret what I did,” he commented more coolly, surprised and pleased that he hadn’t lost it. “Touching you was beautiful to me,
tesoro mio
. And I had hoped you found some beauty in it too.”

Anna’s face was a picture of confusion. Of disorderly emotions. She
had
been there with him! She
had
. The urge to sweep her back into his arms and do the same again, and much, much more, was like agony in his blood. But just as before, he controlled the desire with the sternest efficiency.

“I…I was tired, Nick. I wasn’t thinking straight. And sometimes you can just be…well…a bit overwhelming.”

“So, all my fault then?” he observed, still gripped by the craziness and emotions that were probably just as unstable as hers, washing around inside him.

“Yes. No. Oh, I don’t know!” Her voice was ragged, and Nick was back to guilt again, harsh, grinding guilt. What the hell was it about her that made him act like such a complete fool?

Taking a calming breath, he leant forward and gently took her hand. He felt her flinch, but she didn’t pull back, even though she had every right to be skittish around him. “Look, let’s take time out. Not apportion blame. Just accept.”

She nodded, pursed her lips, seemed to compose herself even though he could still feel a fine trembling in her fingers.

“We are attracted to each other, you must admit that.” He kept his tone steady and rational. “And in some circumstances, and situations, it tends to get the better of us.”

He flashed her a questioning look, wondering if she’d concede that, then saw her nod again. “But from now on, I’ll do my best to contain myself rather than make things awkward for you.” He patted the hand he was holding with his other one, “Although if you want me to do otherwise, please tell me, won’t you? I wouldn’t like to think I was holding back when you wanted to be in my arms.”

Extricating her hand from his, Anna gave a sudden, soft laugh and her body seemed to finally relax. “Good God, Nick, you really are the living end, you know.” A wry smile illuminated her face. “You actually believe that you’re completely irresistible, don’t you?”

Do you really, really want to resist me?
he longed to say, but prudence and a need to preserve this lighter mood stayed his tongue. “One tries,
bella mia
,” he demurred, smiling back at her, “One tries.”

She shook her head as if in despair and seemed just about to say something else when there was a knock at the door that stole away the fugitive words.

“Come!” called Nick, and the door opened to reveal the personal aide who’d been temporarily assigned to him by the Deighton management. She bore a large tray holding their lunch.

A few moments selecting sandwiches and pouring coffee provided a welcome respite, but pretty soon Nick could see that Anna’s appetite for food was as insubstantial as his. She took a microscopic bite of a sandwich, then put her plate aside, looking ill at ease again. Her fingers flexed, as if about to reach for her coffee, but then she took a deep breath and appeared to brace herself to face some thorny difficulty or pitfall.

“I’ll have to talk to Martin as soon as possible. This can’t go any further without him knowing. It’s not fair.”

Picking up a paper napkin to wipe her fingers, she began to shred it compulsively, and Nick wondered if she even knew that she was doing it. “I…I should have phoned him this morning,” she admitted, finally looking down at the mess of white fragments in her hand and hastily dropping them on her plate, “But…I was distracted. As you can well imagine.” As she finished, her head came up and her eyes met his defiantly.

“Indeed.”

Setting aside his own unwanted food, Nick strove to conceal his gathering sense of triumph. Once again, he’d managed to expunge the Englishman from Anna’s thoughts and emotions. It was only a matter of time before she realized men like Johnson would never satisfy her.

“I’ll call him when I get back to the office. Invite him around this evening. Maybe cook him a meal and explain everything to him.” The tension around her soft pink mouth told Nick that this wasn’t a prospect she relished.

All the better that she didn’t have to face it alone.

“That won’t be necessary. I’ve made all the arrangements. No need to worry.”

“What do you mean? What
arrangements
?”

Anna was frowning, her eyes stormy again, but for a second all Nick could think about was the old cliché about a woman looking beautiful when she was angry. There was an avenging war goddess just inches away from him and the urge to fall down and worship her was so strong that his limbs tensed, ready for action.

“I’ve booked a table for the three of us this evening at La Girandole. Eight thirty. I thought it would be more pleasant to discuss our ‘situation’ in relaxed surroundings and over good meal.”

“The
three
of us? Are you out of your mind?”

Anna threw back her head and stared at the ceiling. She looked tenser and more aggravated than ever, but the sensuous line of her elegant white throat was suddenly all that Nick could focus on. The sweet taste of her skin was in his mouth again and the texture of it fiery against his lips. He wanted to kiss, lick, explore—maybe even nip at her with his teeth until she moaned with desire.

“I’m
not
telling Martin about all this with you there. It’s going to be hard enough as it is. What on earth are you thinking about? It’s insane.”

I’m thinking about kissing your neck
,
amore mio
, Nick told her silently, but instead he observed. “I thought my presence would make things easier for you. Johnson is hardly likely to behave unpleasantly if I’m there to support you, is he?”

For the most fleeting of moments, he saw relief cross her face and it sluiced through him too, like an invigorating shower. Yes. In her subconscious at least she was already aligned with him rather than with that insipid nonentity Johnson.

“What do you mean ‘behave unpleasantly’? Martin isn’t like that. He’s sensible and reasonable. A perfect gentleman.” She flashed him a savage, cutting look. “Not like some people I could mention.”

“Sensible? Reasonable? A perfect gentleman? What a thrilling sex life you two must have.”

Anna was on her feet in half a heartbeat, and Nick wanted to kick himself. He’d done it yet again. Upset her like some jealous adolescent. Why had he no control over himself whatsoever where the question of Anna’s relationships with other men was concerned?

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry.”

Up just as quickly, he clasped her arm and prevented from leaving as she so obviously intended to, “Can’t you see I’m simply envious of his right to be with you?”

And never more than now.

Anna’s breasts were heaving and her eyes were flashing sparks like a blade against steel. He imagined pulling her to him, crushing his mouth against hers as he ground his sudden, fierce hardness against her exquisite softness.

“Let me go, Nick.” Her voice was low and deadly. She meant business. He released her arm, but the thought of her walking out cut him to the quick.

Amazingly, she stayed.

Her voice was astonishingly calm as she spoke. “Look, I want to help Carlo. You know I care for him. But if you don’t stop sniping at Martin and making things impossible for me…I…I don’t know how I can go through with this thing.”

The thought of his father brought a blessed clarity to Nick’s thoughts.

“You’re right, of course. I’m behaving like a fool. It won’t happen again.”

Anna glanced about, distracted, looking as if she’d almost hoped that he might do something drastic.

“All right. Okay…but I don’t think this dinner is such a good idea,” she responded quickly, her body full of tension and an obvious desire to get away from him as soon as possible. The urge to curse himself, volubly and savagely in his own tongue, grew stronger than ever.

“Perhaps not,” he conceded, shrugging and wondering how she would take what he had to tell her next, “But your boyfriend has already agreed to it. He’s going to meet us at the restaurant, at the appointed time.”

Anna’s mouth dropped open, and Nick could see that his latest
fait accompli
had completely sideswiped her. Just as it had done very much the same when he’d spoken to Johnson on the phone earlier.

He recalled the Englishman’s surprise and mystification at being invited to dinner with his own girlfriend by another man. At first he’d blustered a little, but when Nick had subtly hinted there might be certainly high-paying contacts that might be put the way of Johnson’s law firm, he’d reluctantly capitulated.

Too easy
, thought Nick, his mouth twisting in momentary disgust. In Johnson’s place, he would have been round here without drawing a breath, demanding the full story, surging like a knight errant defending his lady. In Johnson’s place he would have categorically refused to allow another man to drive his girlfriend to the restaurant. Possibly emphasizing his point with the threat of physical violence.