Читать книгу Virgin: Undone by the Billionaire: The Innocent's Dark Seduction / Count Maxime's Virgin / Untamed Billionaire, Undressed Virgin - Jennie Lucas, Anna Cleary - Страница 7

HAVING his larger hand wrapped around her own caused a seismic boom to spread shock waves through Lia’s body. As he pulled her into his arms, she felt his hands touch her back above her gown. Felt the brush of his sleek tuxedo against her bare skin, felt the hardness of his body against her own.

Her breath suddenly came in short, quick little gasps. She looked up at him, bewildered by her overwhelming sensation and need. Her lips parted, and … and …

And she wanted to go with him. Anywhere.

“Here’s your champagne, Countess.” Andrew’s sudden return broke the spell. Scowling at the dark stranger, he barged between them and gently placed a Baccarat flute into her hand.

Across the room Lia suddenly saw the other board members of the park trust trying to get her attention. Saw discreet little waves, donors heading her way. Realized that three hundred people were watching her, waiting to talk to her.

She could hardly believe she’d actually considered running off with a stranger to heaven knows where, and doing heaven knows what.

Clearly grief had taken a toll on her sanity!

“Excuse me.” She pulled away from the stranger, desperate to escape the intoxicating force of him. She raised her chin. “I must greet my guests. My invited guests,” she added pointedly.

“Don’t worry.” The sardonic heat in the man’s dark eyes caused a flush to spread down her body. “I’m here as the guest of someone you did invite.”

Meaning he was here with another woman? At the same moment he’d very nearly convinced Lia to leave with him? She tightened her hands into fists. “Your date won’t be pleased to see you here with me.”

He gave her a lazy, predatory smile. “I’m not here with a date. And I’ll be leaving with you.”

“You’re wrong about that,” she flashed defiantly.

“Countess?” Andrew Oppenheimer’s lip curled into a snarl as he glared at the other man. “May I escort you away from this … person?”

“Thank you.” Putting her hand on Andrew’s arm, Lia allowed him to steer her toward the many well-heeled, elegantly dressed socialites and stockbrokers.

But as Lia sipped Dom Perignon and pretended to smile and enjoy their chatter—recognizing every park trust donor, knowing every person, their income and their place in society—she couldn’t block out her awareness of the dark stranger. No matter where he was in the enormous hotel ballroom, she always felt his presence. Without looking around, she felt his gaze on her and knew exactly where he was.

Filled with a strange, humming tension, she felt her reason start to melt like an icicle dripping water in the sun.

She’d always heard that desire could be bewildering and destructive. That passion could destroy a woman’s sanity and cause her to make ridiculous choices that made no sense. But she’d never understood it.

Until now.

Her marriage had been one of friendship, not passion. At eighteen, she’d married a family friend she respected, a man who’d been kind to her. She’d never once been tempted to betray him with another.

At twenty-eight, Lia was still a virgin. And at this point in her life, she’d assumed she would stay a virgin till she died.

In some ways, it had been a blessing not to feel anything. After losing everyone she’d ever cared about, all she’d wanted was to remain numb for the rest of her life.

But now …

She felt the tall, dark stranger every instant. As she made her opening speech on the dais, thanking her donors and guests with a champagne toast while tuxedoed men hovered around her like sharks, all she could feel was the stranger’s hot glance throbbing through her veins.

Making her feel alive against her will.

He was handsome, but not with the dignified elegance that Andrew and the other New York blue bloods had. He didn’t have the milk-fed look of someone born with a silver spoon in his mouth. No.

In his midthirties, muscular and rough, he had the look of a hardened warrior. Ruthless, even cruel.

A shiver went through her. A liquid yearning in her veins that she fought with all her might, telling herself it was the result of exhaustion. Illusion. The trick of too much champagne, too many tears and not enough sleep.

But when the guests all sat down to their assigned seats for dinner, she looked again, and realized the stranger had disappeared. All the intense emotion that had been singing through her veins like crescendoing music abruptly ended.

She told herself that she was glad. He’d made her feel strange and uneven and half-drunk.

But where was he?

Why had he gone?

Dinner ended, and a new dread distracted her. The emcee, a prominent local land developer, went to the dais with his gavel.

“Now, the fun part of the night,” he said with a grin. “The auction you’ve all been waiting for. The first item up for bid …”

He started the fund-raiser with a 1960s crocodile Hermès bag that had once been owned by Princess Grace herself. Lia listened to society mavens placing enthusiastic bids around her. The increasingly astronomical bids should have delighted Lia. Every penny donated tonight would go to the park trust, for playground equipment and landscaping costs.

But as she heard the items get auctioned off one by one, she felt only a trickle of building fear.

“It’s a perfect idea,” Giovanni had said with a weak laugh when the party planner had first suggested it. Even from his sickbed, he’d placed his trembling hand over Lia’s. “No one will be able to resist you, my dear. You must do it.”

And even though Lia had hated the idea, she’d eventually agreed. Because Giovanni had asked her.

She’d never thought his illness would take a sudden turn for the worse. She hadn’t expected that she would be here to face this all alone.

One by one the auction items sold. The dress-circle box at the Vienna Opera Ball. The month-long stay at a Hamptons beach estate. The vintage 1966 Shelby Cobra 427 in pristine condition.

And every punch of the gavel caused the tension to heighten inside her. Getting closer and closer to the final item for sale …

After the twenty-carat Cartier diamond earrings were sold for $90,000, Lia heard the crack of the gavel. It was like the final blow of a guillotine.

“Now,” the emcee said gleefully, “we come to our last item up for bid. A very special item indeed.”

A spotlight fell on Lia where she stood alone on the marble ballroom floor. A titter rose from the guests, who’d all heard whispers of this open secret. She felt the eager eyes of the men, the envious glares of the women. And she longed more than anything to be back in her cloistered Italian rose garden, far from all this.

Oh, Giovanni, she thought. What have you left me to?

“One man will win the opening dance tonight with our own charming hostess, Countess Villani. The bidding starts at $10,000—”

He’d barely gotten the words out before men started shouting out their bids.

“Ten thousand,” Andrew began.

“I’ll pay twenty,” a pompous old man thundered.

“Twenty-five,” cried a teenage boy, barely out of boarding school.

“Forty thousand dollars for a dance with the countess!” shouted a forty something Wall Street tycoon.

The bidding continued upward in slow increments, and Lia felt her cheeks burn and burn. But the more humiliated she felt, the straighter she stood. This was to earn money for her sister’s park, the only thing she had left in her life that she believed in, and, damn it, she would smile big and dance with the highest bidder, no matter who the man was. She would laugh at his jokes and be charming even if it killed her—

“A million dollars,” a deep voice cut in.

A shocked hush fell over the crowd.

Lia turned with a gasp. The dark stranger!

His eyes burned her.

No, she thought desperately. She’d just barely recovered from being in his arms. She couldn’t be close to him like that again, not when touching him burned through her, body and soul!

The emcee squinted to see who’d made such an outlandish bid. When he saw the man, he gulped. “Okay! That’s the bid to beat! A million dollars! A million, going once …”

Lia cast around a wide, desperate glance at all the men who’d so eagerly been fighting over her the moment before. Wouldn’t any of them meet the offer?

But the men looked crestfallen. Andrew Oppenheimer just clenched his jaw, looking coldly furious. But the last bid before the stranger’s had been a hundred thousand dollars. A hundred thousand to a million was too big a leap, even for the multimillionaires around her.

“A million going twice …”

She gave a pleading smile at the very richest—and very oldest—men. But they glumly shook their heads. Either the price was too high, or … was it possible they were afraid of challenging the stranger?

Who was this man? She’d never seen him before tonight. How was it possible that a man this wealthy could crash her party in New York, and she’d have no idea who he was?

“Sold! The first dance with the countess, for a million dollars. Sir, you may collect your prize.”

The dark eyes of the stranger held her own as he crossed the ballroom. The other men who’d bid for Lia fell silent, fell back, as he passed. Far taller and more broad-shouldered than the others, he wore his dark power like a shadow against his body.

But Lia wouldn’t allow any man to bully her. Whatever she felt on the inside, she wouldn’t show her weakness. He obviously thought she was a gold digger. He thought he could buy her.

You’ll be mine, Countess. You’ll want me as I want you.

She would soon disabuse him of that notion. She lifted her chin as he approached.

“Do not think that you own me,” she said scornfully. “You’ve bought a three-minute dance, nothing more—”

For answer, he swept her up in his strong arms. The force of his touch was so intense and troubling that her sentence ended in a gasp. He looked down at her as he led her onto the dance floor.

“I have you now.” His sensual mouth curved into a smile. “This is just the start.”