Page 13 of Expecting His Billion-Dollar Scandal
Cordelia gritted her teeth and ignored him completely as she sprang to her feet and hastily donned the swimsuit that had been shed with such enthusiasm less than an hour earlier.
Much better.
‘Of course.’ Her voice was a lot more normal when she looked at him now, as were her pulse rate and the general state of her nervous system.
‘If you hadn’t ended up half drowning...’ she said.
‘Don’t remind me. Men have fragile egos when it comes to that kind of thing.’
‘We would never have met. But here you are and I don’t think, for a second, that this is the start of any kind of relationship. I’m not on the lookout for a relationship! But I don’t get to adventure much and this isfun.’
‘Good. So we understand one another.’
‘Does every woman you happen to sleep with need a warning just in case they start thinking that you’re interested in a long-term, full-time relationship?’ She folded her arms and stared at him. He raised his eyebrows, amused, and she blushed scarlet when she had visible proof that he was getting aroused once again.
He idly took himself in his hand while he continued to look at her, and she reddened further.
He took his time standing up but even then he didn’t put on the discarded swimming trunks, choosing instead to saunter down to the water, whereupon he turned to look at her.
‘Another swim? Or food?’
Cordelia frowned. She was fairly certain that this was a serious conversation that should be afforded a suitable amount of gravitas. Instead, that crooked half-smile of his held just the hint of an invitation, and she found herself walking towards him, pulled in his direction by invisible strings.
She pictured him sitting on that rug in all his glory, tucking into the sandwiches she had made and wearing nothing but his birthday suit, and she strode into the water.
‘Well?’ She turned to him and folded her arms. ‘Do you always think that you have to warn women off in case they start expecting more than you want to give?’
‘More than I’m capable of giving,’ Luca surprised himself by saying.
‘What do you mean? What are you talking about?’
‘I’m talking about me, Cordelia. Me, women and my experiences with them.’ He turned away and began swimming out, his strokes long and clean, and she followed until they were both out in the deep blue ocean, their bodies adjusted to the cold, cold water, which felt good in the burning heat of the midday sun.
She flipped over onto her back and felt the sun pouring down over her. When she glanced across it was to find that he had done the same.
For one fleeting second she questioned what she had got herself into. This wasn’t the boy next door. This wasn’t one of the local lads who drank at the same pub every weekend and followed their dad into the same family business. Those were the boys she knew and was accustomed to.
This guy was all dark and dangerous and out of her league and if he was also funny and sharp and challenging, she knew that she should still never forget that there was a lot more to him than that.
Maybe that was part and parcel of the tingle that rippled through her as she feasted her eyes on his averted profile.
She’d never had a single experience with any man. He’d been her first.
He’d obviously had so many experiences with women that he had built up a portfolio on their behaviour patterns and expectations when it came to relationships.
Mingled with simmering excitement, a certain amount of unease nudged its way through but she blithely shoved that aside because, as he’d just reminded her, he was just passing through. People who were passing through didn’t cause problems. It was the ones who stuck around and made a nuisance of themselves you had to be wary of.
‘You sound like an old man,’ she half joked.
‘There are times I feel like one,’ Luca said heavily.
‘Don’t you believe in love?’
‘Strangely, I don’t believe anyone’s ever asked me that question directly before.’ He sounded surprised. ‘But now that you’ve asked, I don’t. I don’t believe in love, I don’t believe in the fairy tales people insist on telling that there’s such a thing as a happy-ever-after. You’re young,mi tesoro,which is why I felt that I should warn you off me.’
‘And like I’ve told you, there’s no need. Why don’t you? Believe in love and marriage, I mean?’ She thought of herself in a white dress floating down the aisle on her father’s arm, to meet the man of her dreams. Instantly, a few pedestrian details jarred the dreamy image. Firstly the thought of herself in a dress, which was an item of clothing she didn’t possess, and secondly the thought of what this man of her dreams would look like.
Tall, dark and handsome.
