Page 29 of Dangerous Temptation
The words died on her lips when her breasts brushed against his chest. He was so close. She stepped back when his pupils dilated in response, but her heel banged into the coat rack. It rocked noisily, and he reached over her shoulder to catch it before it fell.
‘Sorry.’ She cringed at her awkwardness, but took the opportunity to duck under his arm and step further into the kitchen. ‘I can be a bit clumsy.’
At least around him.
‘Really? All I’ve seen is you trotting through the trees like a doe or going through yoga poses like a master.’ He hung up her jacket and turned. The raw emotions of the day before were gone, and he looked different. The rugged outdoorsman and the sexy athlete were hidden. She’d been able to relate somewhat to both those sides of him, but tonight he looked like the powerful executive he was, rich, confident and used to getting what he wanted.
She smoothed her H&M dress. It was the third outfit she’d tried on. It had a scooped neck and was of fitted lace with a sewn-in slip dress underneath. The slender shoulder straps made the outfit more appropriate for summer, but the black colour gave it a pricey look. Considering that she hadn’t packed for fancy dinners when she’d come here, it was the best she could do on short notice – especially with reporters still blocking the exits.
‘You look beautiful,’ he said.
She pressed a hand to her stomach as his gaze raked over her, slow and hot.
He reached for her and she jumped, instinctively looking over her shoulder in case Marta was still watching. Colour flooded her face when, instead of his touch, she heard the tinkle of ice in a glass. A bemused look came over his face as he swirled the amber liquid. ‘Can I get you something?’
Absolutely not. By all rights she should remain clear-headed, but it would be nice to have something to hold onto. Something that might ease her nerves …
‘White wine?’ she said throatily.
‘I’m sure we can find something that will do the trick.’ This time he did touch her, his hand settling against the small of her back. With strides measured to match hers, he led her to the open archway. He stopped as they walked through it, though, and looked back. ‘How much time do we have before dinner is ready, Marta?’
The cook pirouetted around the corner, biting her lower lip. She’d been caught hovering, and she knew it. ‘A while, Master Wolfe. I’m just starting on the risotto.’
‘Excellent,’ he murmured.
No. Not excellent. Elena pressed her tongue against the roof of her mouth as she walked into the open grand room with the floor-to-ceiling windows. Minute rice would be fine for her. Alex’s hand felt huge on the small of her back as he led her to the wet bar, and she could have sworn that his thumb moved over the ends of her hair. The touch was impersonal and intimate at the same time, and she shivered at the coolness she felt when it left her.
‘2008 Leflaive Puligny-Montrachet?’
She licked lips that were suddenly dry as paper. ‘Whatever you have is fine.’
His grey gaze was steady. ‘I think you’ll like it.’
Unlike her, he seemed rock solid – unembarrassed by what had happened – although a bit curious. Maybe he rolled around on the floor with neighbours all the time. He was certainly rich enough and handsome enough to get any woman he wanted. According to the magazines and online blogs, he hadn’t passed on many opportunities to ‘social network’.
Yet he had been imprisoned for the last eighteen months …
Elena drank from the glass he passed to her. He might be a man of the world, cultured and suave, but she wasn’t as easygoing. She didn’t sleep around. She’d had steady boyfriends, but she’d never –
‘Mmm,’ she murmured with pleasure. The flavour of the expensive wine spread over her tongue like smooth honey. She swallowed, tasting the unexpected spiced notes, and was distracted.
He caught her hand. ‘That’s better.’
He drew her to the sofa. She kept a respectable distance between them as they sat, but the white leather was unexpectedly comfortable. The cushions were so deep, they sucked her in and defied her to remain rigid. She sat up straighter, near the edge, and crossed her ankles. She couldn’t allow her guard to drop, not around him.
Hand tightening around her drink, she took another deep sip. The wind was rising outside. The trees were swaying and those last leaves were fluttering wildly. Inside the mansion, though, she didn’t hear the wind’s howl.
‘Did I ever thank you for what you did?’ he finally asked, his low voice breaking the silence that had taken over the room.
She looked at him through her lashes.
‘For rescuing me.’ There was no curve at all to his lips. He wasn’t teasing or being coy.
‘I … I don’t remember,’ she replied.
‘Thank you.’
The words were honest and heartfelt. They weren’t characteristics she’d normally associate with a Wolfe, and they made her chest tighten. ‘You’re welcome.’
