Читать книгу One Christmas Night In... - Кэрол Мортимер, Кэрол Мортимер - Страница 11

‘COULD I have my mobile phone back now?’

Dmitri raised dark brows as he turned from attending to a pan on the cooker hob and saw Lily standing in the kitchen doorway, obviously now completely refreshed after her journey. Her eyes were a clear bright blue, she’d slicked a pale lip gloss on those pouting lips and her beautiful, silky platinum-coloured hair fell straight and heavy over her shoulders and down the slenderness of her back. She was wearing a thin black sweater with tailored black trousers that fitted the smooth curves of her hips and bottom as though they’d been specially made for her.

Lily’s cheeks became slightly flushed under the hooded intensity of Dmitri’s gaze. ‘I believe you took my mobile with you when you left my bedroom earlier, and I’d now like it back,’ she repeated.

He gave a lazily unconcerned smile as he reached into the breast pocket of his casual white shirt and pulled out the slender black-and-chrome mobile before handing it to her. ‘Don’t worry, you haven’t missed any calls or text messages.’

‘I wasn’t worried.’ Lily dropped the phone back inside her shoulder bag.

‘No?’

‘No!’ she reiterated, not knowing whether that was the truth or not. She was worried about Felix, obviously, and longed to speak to him—either on the phone or in person—but at the same time she didn’t relish the thought of Dmitri being able to intercede in such a call.

She had enjoyed soaking herself in a scented bath for an hour or so earlier, finally relaxing as she’d got out to wrap a towel about herself before wandering barefoot through to the bedroom. Which was when she had realised that she couldn’t find her mobile phone amongst the other things that had fallen out of her bag earlier onto the bed. A search amongst the slightly ruffled bedclothes, and then under the bed itself, had shown it wasn’t there. Leading Lily to only one conclusion: Dmitri had to have taken the mobile with him when he’d left the bedroom!

The fact that he had just calmly handed it back to her, without so much as an apology for taking it in the first place, didn’t improve her temper in the slightest. Which was probably as well, now that she once again found herself alone in the disturbing Dmitri Scarletti’s company …

The kitchen wasn’t at all what Lily had been expecting when she had followed the aroma of cooking food. It was far less opulent and more homely than the rest of the palazzo, with dried herbs hanging from the thick wooden beams in the ceiling amongst an array of copper pots and pans, and mellowed oak cabinets scarred with age. The large table and chairs standing on worn flagstones in the middle of the room looked equally as well-used.

But most disturbing of all was the man in front of her. Dmitri appeared completely relaxed as he stood in front of the old-fashioned range, stirring the reason for those delicious smells, with an open bottle of red wine on the worktop beside him, along with a half-full glass of the ruby liquid, showing that he had been enjoying taking sips of wine as he cooked.

He was dressed far less formally now, in a loose white shirt unbuttoned at the throat and with the sleeves turned up almost to his elbows, and a pair of faded jeans that fitted low on his lean waist and clung lovingly to his muscled thighs. The darkness of his hair was still damp from the shower he had obviously taken. He somehow looked younger, even sexier, and far less intimidating than he had earlier.

Damn it!

Lily had spent the past half an hour, as she’d dried her hair and then dressed, building herself up to a quiet fury—but one look at this relaxed, smiling Dmitri and she was once again aware of everything about him. The way his hair fell silkily onto his brow. The fact that there was no longer any shadow darkening that square and determined chin—evidence that he must have shaved. The unbuttoned shirt allowed her to see the start of the dark curling hair that no doubt covered most of his chest before dipping down below the waistband of his—

‘Would you care for some red wine?’

Lily gave a startled blink as she realised she had been staring so intently at the utterly gorgeous man in front of her that she had completely forgotten he was probably using that time to stare right back at her—thereby allowing him to see how her cheeks had become flushed, her lips moist and slightly parted, even as her gaze hungrily devoured everything about him.

Double damn it!

This man held the key to her gilded cage, and as such was not a man she should be drooling over, she told herself firmly.

Lily closed her eyes briefly before opening them again. ‘Thank you,’ she accepted huskily as she stepped farther into the kitchen. ‘The food smells good,’ she excused herself uncomfortably when her stomach gave an audible growl as a reminder that she hadn’t eaten anything since those snacks on the plane.

‘Let’s hope that it tastes good too.’ Dmitri took a second glass from the cupboard and poured some wine from the open bottle, handing it to her before topping up his own glass.

Lily took a welcome sip of the red wine, not in the least surprised at its delicious smoothness. She doubted a man as rich as Dmitri was reputed to be would ever have anything but the best wines in his cellar, and the finer the wine the smoother on the palate.

‘Am I allowed to ask whereabouts in Rome we are?’ Lily frowned, having become totally disorientated earlier, during her drive through the city.

‘Of course.’ He nodded, leaning back against one of the kitchen units, heavy lids lowered over piercing green eyes as he slowly sipped his own wine.

‘Well?’ she prompted impatiently, when he added nothing further.

He shrugged broad shoulders. ‘You have not asked yet.’

Lily drew in an impatient breath. ‘I’m asking now,’ she grated between gritted teeth.

‘We are in the area of Parioli. It’s—’

‘I know where it is.’ She also knew what it was—the most prestigious and exclusive residential area in Rome! But then, where else would he live?

Lily had bought several books on Rome once her ticket was booked, and had enjoyed poring over all the different areas and historical attractions of Rome in order to decide which places she wanted to visit while she was there. The area containing most of the homes of the wealthy and privileged inhabitants of Rome hadn’t been one of them.

Dmitri eyed her from beneath dark lashes. ‘You don’t sound as if you approve.’

‘It’s not for me to approve or disapprove. It is what it is.’ She gave a dismissive lift of her shoulders and avoided meeting his perceptive gaze. ‘What are we having for dinner?’ she asked as she looked down into the simmering cooking pots rather than at him.

‘Spaghetti alla carbonara. It’s—’

‘I know what it is, Dmitri. We’re quite cosmopolitan in England nowadays, you know,’ she added snippily. ‘We even eat with knives and forks on special days and holidays!’

Dmitri had been hoping that they might be able to spend a relaxing evening together—maybe enjoy some light conversation as they ate the meal he had cooked, and in the process dispel some of her antagonism towards him. Yet, after only a few minutes spent in her company, he knew she was spoiling for another fight rather than relaxed conversation!

Admittedly he should not have taken her mobile phone earlier, without first telling her what he was doing. Except by the time he had seen it lying on the bed, amongst her purse, a lipstick and a couple of paperback books, she had already locked herself in the bathroom, with the sound of running bathwater precluding any further conversation.

He sighed his impatience with her continued hostility. ‘I remember eating in some very acceptable Italian restaurants during the years I lived in England.’

‘I trust you passed that on to the proprietors? What a coup—to have a personal recommendation from Count Dmitri Scarletti!’

Yes, Dmitri acknowledged wearily, this promised to be a very long evening indeed. ‘I was not Count Scarletti at the time, Lily,’ he informed her quietly. ‘My father did not die until the summer after I had left Oxford.’

Well, that had completely knocked the wind from her sails, she acknowledged a little guiltily, as she saw the pain he still felt at his father’s death reflected in the grimness of his expression.

She winced. ‘I’m sorry …’

‘You are?’ He looked surprised. ‘I would have thought you might enjoy my obvious discomfort at the loss.’

‘Really?’ Lily bristled. Being angry with Dmitri on a personal level was one thing, but using the pain of his father’s death as a means of hitting back at him would hardly have been fair. Admittedly this situation was decidedly odd, but she had never been a vindictive person—nor was she about to become one now. ‘My own parents died in a car accident when Felix and I were only eighteen, so I’m hardly likely to relish hearing of someone else having suffered the same loss at an early age.’

‘Even me?’ Dmitri finished dryly.

‘Even you,’ Lily muttered. ‘You must have been quite young when your father died,’ she realised with a frown.

He nodded. ‘My mother died when I was fifteen and my father when I was twenty-one.’

Lily thought of what she’d been doing when she was twenty-one. She had already worked her way through her degree course and had been preparing to embark on a student teacher course. It had been tough going, admittedly, but she’d only had herself to think about—bar the odd occasion when she’d had to bail her irresponsible brother out of trouble! But those things were nothing in comparison with the responsibilities Dmitri must have taken on at that tender age.

Oh, for goodness’ sake, Lily, she instantly admonished herself. He’s a multi-multi-millionaire—how tough could it have been?

Tough, she conceded ruefully. Money might have helped to cushion the situation for him, but Dmitri would still have been responsible for his much younger sister, and for all of the people who worked and lived under the Scarletti umbrella—either in the numerous companies he owned or on the family estates.

Oh, great—now she was starting to feel admiration for the man!

‘Can we eat now?’ she asked brusquely. ‘I’m starving.’

Conversation over, Dmitri acknowledged ruefully. The subject of the conversation hadn’t been exactly pleasant, but at least it had been conversation of a sort. ‘Would you prefer to eat in here or upstairs in the formal dining room?’

A crease appeared on her creamy brow. ‘Would that be the room I passed at the end of the hallway, just before the stairs down here?’

‘Yes.’

Her nose wrinkled. ‘Then I’d rather eat here—if that’s okay with you.’

‘Perfectly okay.’ Dmitri turned back to the stove to tip savoury pasta into a warmed serving bowl. ‘And, if you would not consider it cooking, perhaps you would you care to get the garlic bread out of the warming oven?’ he suggested with a teasing smile as he carried the steaming bowl of spaghetti to the table.

‘I think I can do that, yes,’ she came back pertly.

Dmitri turned back from the table in time to see Lily pick up an oven cloth before bending down to open the lower oven, so giving him a perfect view of her shapely bottom. Something guaranteed to turn his thoughts from food to another appetite entirely!

She really did have the most delectable bottom. Firm, with just enough roundness that a man would enjoy curling a hand about as he—

‘More wine?’ Dmitri prompted gruffly, and he moved to collect the bottle from the worktop, his expression strained as he took the spoons and forks from the drawer beside the oven.

‘Er—yes. Thanks.’ Lily straightened slowly, biting her lip as she carried the bowl of garlic bread over to the table, obviously slightly confused at the sudden change in his tone. ‘Are you sure you don’t mind eating down here?’ She hesitated about sitting down on the chair Dmitri had pulled back for her.

No—in light of his previous thoughts about her bottom he wasn’t at all sure about continuing to remain in the informal intimacy of the kitchen! His only concern at the moment should be ensuring Claudia’s safe return. Certainly not imagining how he would enjoy clasping Lily’s bottom as he took her on the dining table!

‘Very sure,’ he clipped, pushing her chair in as she finally sat down, then moving around the table to occupy the chair opposite as he felt himself drawn to the now-familiar apple-and-cinnamon scents of her hair. Only to look up and find himself the focus her huge and puzzled blue eyes …

Beautiful eyes, Dmitri conceded. In fact, she was beautiful all over—from her silver-blond hair to the creamy smoothness of her pale skin. And as for the sensual allure of the pouting fullness of her lips—

Again, that was quite enough of that, he cautioned himself determinedly. Being kept here against her will as she was, Lily had absolutely no reason to like or trust him without him adding another layer to that distrust by allowing his increasing physical awareness of her to become an issue.

‘Eat,’ he instructed tersely, and he placed a large serving of pasta into her bowl before serving himself.

Lily raised mocking brows. ‘Does that tone of voice usually work for you?’

Dmitri closed his eyes briefly in self-disgust, before looking across the table at her. ‘I apologise. Circumstances are such that I am not … my usual self today.’

‘And is your usual self better or worse than the self you are today?’ she asked curiously.

‘I would hope that he is at least more polite than I was just now,’ he admitted ruefully.

‘In that case, perhaps you would like to try again?’ she suggested sweetly.

Dmitri relaxed back in his chair. ‘Please eat before the food gets cold, Lily.’

‘Much better,’ she said with approval, and she picked up her fork to twine some of the spaghetti onto its tines before twirling it round. Only to have it fall off again before she could get it to her mouth. ‘Damn,’ she muttered, and tried again.

He chuckled softly. ‘You do it like this.’ He sat forward to pick up his fork and his spoon to demonstrate how the spoon should be placed on the end of the tines of the fork to keep the pasta in place.

‘See?’ He popped the pasta into his mouth.

Lily saw just fine—in fact, her gaze had been transfixed on his sensually wicked mouth the whole time. She just wasn’t having any success in doing it herself, and forkful after forkful of the slippery pasta fell back into the bowl before making it as far as her mouth. But she was not about to give in and simply chop the spaghetti up and use her spoon to eat it, as she had so often seen other English people do.

‘I could just starve to death with my current success rate!’ she muttered, as yet another forkful of pasta fell back into the bowl. ‘Maybe I should stick to the garlic bread!’ She picked up a slice and took a healthy bite.

‘Here—let me show you how.’ He was still chuckling as he stood up to come round to her side of the table and bend over beside her, taking the spoon and fork from her unresisting fingers.

Mistake, Lily realised, tensing as every nerve ending in her body suddenly went on alert at his close proximity. Nor did it help that he looked so much younger, so much more approachable and so much more attractive, when he laughed. Almost boyishly handsome, in fact. Except there was absolutely nothing in the least boyish about Dmitri Scarletti!

A fact she was only too aware of now, as he stood far too close to her, the warm line of his arm brushing lightly against her shoulder, the loose white shirt falling forward and allowing her to see clearly the firm muscles of his chest and stomach, and the dark hair that lightly covered the whole of his chest before disappearing in a tantalising vee beneath the waistband of his jeans.

He smelled really good too—of spicy aftershave and hot, earthy male.

Oh, good Lord!

‘Open your mouth, Lily,’ he encouraged.

She raised startled lids. And then wished she hadn’t as she realised his face was on a level with her own as he bent down beside her. Those pale green eyes were darkening to emerald as she looked at him, his breath a warm caress as she ran her tongue nervously across her slightly parted lips.

Her mesmerised gaze was transfixed on Dmitri’s lips as he huskily repeated his earlier request. ‘Open your mouth.’ Lily couldn’t drag her gaze away from his as her lips slowly parted—only to have all the tastebuds in her mouth explode in pleasure as he neatly placed a forkful of the pasta carbonara onto her tongue.

‘Oh, my God!’ she breathed shakily once she was able to talk at all. ‘That is so good!’ She opened her eyes to look up at him appreciatively. ‘You should open your own restaurant—no, of course you couldn’t do that.’ Lily grimaced as she immediately realised how ridiculous it was even to suggest that Count Scarletti become the chef of his own restaurant.

Dmitri had been held completely transfixed by the expression of pure ecstasy on her face as she ate the forkful of pasta, his shaft hardening as he was instantly bombarded by thoughts of how she would look exactly that same way in the throes of physical pleasure. Eyes closed. Throat arched. A dreamy smile upon her lips as she became completely lost to that ecstasy …

His gaze was still riveted on those slightly parted lips as she breathed softly, and his own breath caught in his throat as the pink moistness of her tongue flicked out to lick a tiny smear of the carbonara sauce from her bottom lip.

Dmitri groaned softly in his throat as the throb of his shaft became almost painful as it grew harder, more swollen, with each rapid beat of his heart. As he imagined his own tongue flicking across the pouting sensuality of Lily’s mouth. Licking. Tasting.

‘I think I can manage on my own now, thank you, Dmitri.’

Lily’s voice shattered those disturbingly sensuous images. He placed the fork and spoon down in her bowl and moved quickly round to the other side of the table, resuming his own seat. Before Lily could become aware of the throbbing evidence of his very obvious arousal.

This had never happened to him before, Dmitri realised with a frown. This sudden and complete awareness of a woman. And not just any woman, but one specific woman.

Oh, his relationships had been numerous over the years—brief, businesslike arrangements for the main part, that satisfied the woman’s physical requirements as well as his own, while at the same time demanding nothing from him except the occasional expensive bauble as an added sign of his interest.

Dmitri had only known Lily a matter of hours, but he already knew her well enough to realise she was the type of woman who would throw any expensive bauble in a man’s face if it was given to her under such circumstances!

Add into that equation the fact that he was keeping her here against her will—a prisoner in a gilded cage, as she put it so eloquently—and his sudden desire to kiss her, to caress and pleasure her, was the very madness she had accused him of earlier!

‘Dmitri?’

‘Yes?’ He scowled darkly as he looked across the table at her from between narrowed lids.

Lily sat back slightly and eyed him warily, not altogether sure what to make of yet another sudden change in his mood. One moment he had been teasing her, the next seeming as if he might actually kiss her and then he had retreated so suddenly it was as if she carried some sort of contagious disease.

Which was perhaps how he thought of her, believing as he did that her brother was nothing but a fortune-hunter.

And of course the attractive, the rich, the titled Count Dmitri Scarletti hadn’t been about to kiss her! What on earth was she thinking of? He’d only been being kind when he’d offered to teach her how to eat the pasta properly. The rest of it was purely in her own imagination. She would be wise to put such thoughts completely from her mind when she was the very last woman he would ever allow himself to be attracted to.

As Lily was attracted to him?

It would be useless even to try to fool herself into thinking otherwise. How could she possibly attempt to deny the attraction when she was so totally aware of every single thing about the man?

In fact, she was dangerously close to being infatuated with everything about him—the way he looked, the way he talked, the graceful way he moved, even the way he smelt. She physically ached with the effort of trying to resist her feelings.

Oh, hell …