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CHAPTER TWO

HALINA COULDN’T THINK. From the moment Rico Falcone had rescued her from the box-ticking bouncer, she’d been ensnared. Bound body and mind by the sensual charisma of the man standing in front of her, so arrogant and self-assured and so very, very attractive.

She had limited experience of the opposite sex, and she had no experience whatsoever of the kind of man who stood in front of her now, one dark slash of an eyebrow arched, his mobile mouth curved into a smile of supreme self-confidence, his body radiating pure, muscular, sensual power.

‘Are you coming with me?’ he asked, and there was a note of challenge in his voice, as well as a hint of impatience. Halina hesitated. She shouldn’t go with him, of course, this man whom she knew, from both gossip and his own gorgeous mouth, was a cold womaniser. A man who was fabulous at sex.

Not that she had any intention of having sex with him, of course. Her virginity was a point of honour, as well as a prized asset. As a princess of a desert kingdom, her chastity was of utmost importance. She’d never even touched a man before tonight.

But why did this have to be about sex? All she wanted was to drink champagne, perhaps even be kissed...

It was hard to resist such a beguiling invitation. And he was quite the most perfect specimen of a man she’d ever seen—dark hair cut close, silvery grey eyes that flashed like sunlight on metal as he remained with his hand outstretched, fingertips gliding along hers, his tall and powerfully built body encased in a top-end tuxedo, the crisp white shirt and black fitted jacket the perfect foil for his dark hair and grey eyes, his swarthy skin.

From the corner of her eye Halina saw the two women she’d glimpsed in the bathroom shooting her speculative and frankly envious glances. No matter what they’d said to each other, they wanted this man...this man who, improbably, impossibly, seemed to want her.

‘Yes,’ she said, flinging the word out the way a knight would fling down a gauntlet. It felt like a challenge, a dare, completely reckless but also brave. ‘Yes, I will.’

‘Excellent.’ His fingers tightened on hers, causing a fizz of fireworks to go off in her belly. She was already feeling light-headed from two glasses of hastily drunk champagne, imbibed to steel her nerves. Now she felt utterly overwhelmed by the sheer, lunatic magic of the situation—she, the innocent Princess in her ivory tower being lured upstairs by the most magnetically sexual man in the world, never mind this room. And he wanted her.

Taking a deep breath, Halina followed Rico down the hall, away from the party, determined not to panic or even doubt herself. A little bit of flirting, another glass of champagne, maybe a kiss...and then she’d leave. Of course she would. And she wouldn’t think about her mother, or Abdul, the sleepy bodyguard, and certainly not her father the Sultan who would be both furious and heartbroken to know she’d dared to go this far, never mind what she might get up to once they were in Rico’s suite.

One night. One adventure. That was all she wanted, all she was asking for. Surely it wasn’t too much?

Rico stabbed the button for the lifts and the doors whooshed open. Still holding her by the hand, he drew her inside, then the doors closed and they were alone, soaring upwards.

‘So what made you decide to crash the party tonight?’ he asked in a lazy voice. Halina tried not to blush. So it had been obvious that she hadn’t had an invitation.

‘An impulse decision.’

‘Some of the best decisions are borne from impulse.’

‘Are yours?’ she asked. She was so nervous and hyper-aware of him that she wondered if he could see the hectic, urgent thud of her heart from beneath her dress. She resisted the urge to wipe her damp palms down its sides.

‘My impulses are borne of instinct,’ Rico answered. ‘So they’re always right.’

She laughed, incredulous and a little bit amused by his arrogance, despite her nerves. ‘Is there anything you’re insecure about?’

Something dark flashed across his face, so quickly that Halina almost missed it. She couldn’t decipher what it was. Then his expression evened out and he smiled, his lips curving, showing a flash of very white, very straight teeth. ‘No,’ he answered. ‘There isn’t.’

The doors opened straight into the penthouse suite of the hotel, the one her mother had demanded but which the concierge had regretfully informed her was already booked. What kind of man was Rico Falcone, that the hotel had turned away even a queen?

‘So, where’s this wonderful champagne?’ Halina asked as she stepped into the suite, her heels clicking the black marble floor. The space stretched on into the darkness, the only light coming from the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city.

Rico threw her a darkly amused glance. ‘Are you quite certain you want another glass?’

Surely he wasn’t going to treat her like a child? Halina lifted her chin. ‘Why wouldn’t I?’

‘I don’t want you drunk when I make love to you.’

Everything inside her trembled, her internal organs reduced to a plateful of jelly. ‘Who says you’re going to—to make love to me?’ Halina demanded with far more bravado than actual courage. An image slid through her mind like a sensuous snake—body entwined with body, candlelight gleaming off satin sheets—and a current of desire zinged through her, twanging all her senses, every nerve.

‘I do,’ Rico replied baldly as he retrieved a bottle of champagne chilling in a silver ice-bucket by a pair of white leather sofas. ‘Why else would you have come up here with me?’

Nerves clamoured in her belly. Was she in over her head? The answer was obvious—of course she was. Yet she didn’t want to leave. Not so soon, not yet. ‘For the champagne, of course,’ Halina quipped as she strolled through the sweeping living area of the suite towards the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the Eternal City, its ancient, crumbling buildings now awash with moonlight.

‘At least on that I can oblige.’ With a satisfying pop he pulled the cork from the bottle and then filled two glasses right to the brim before handing one to Halina. She took a sip, relishing the crisp taste of bubbles on her tongue, and definitely needing the Dutch courage. What now?

‘You really shouldn’t be quite so arrogant,’ she said as she lowered the glass. Her palms were slick and her heart thudded but she managed to hold his sardonic gaze. Just.

‘Oh? Why shouldn’t I?’

His utter, unapologetic confidence stunned her. She admired it too, because although she knew she could seem confident to her school friends or sisters, playing to familiar crowds with her trademark drama and humour, when it came to the real world she had nothing on this man. Nothing at all.

‘It’s not a particularly appealing trait,’ she said at last.

‘I disagree.’

His self-assurance was like a brick wall, high and wide, impossible to cross or find a chink in. Still, for some perverse reason, she tried. ‘So you think it’s an asset? Being so ridiculously self-assured?’

He shrugged, as if the answer was so apparent the question should not have even been asked. ‘Of course.’

‘Why? How?’

‘Because there is a basis for it. I am the way I am because I know what I’m doing and, more importantly, I know what I want and I go after it.’ His eyes flashed, a glint of silver like moonlight flashing off the blade of a knife. ‘And do you know what I want right now, Lina?’

She swallowed. Hard. Excitement licked along her veins like the most dangerous fire. ‘What?’

‘You.’

Before she could form the words for a semi-coherent reply he’d crossed the room, swallowing up the space in a couple of strides, and plucked the champagne flute from her nerveless fingers. She opened her mouth to protest—she hadn’t finished her drink—but then his hands were on his shoulders, warm and so very sure, and he was kissing her.

Her very first kiss, and it felt like diving head-first into ice-cold water, a shock to her entire system. She stiffened underneath the onslaught of his persuasive mouth, the sudden intimacy of it, even as heat exploded in her centre and stars shot from behind her eyes. Her knees buckled and she felt Rico smile against her mouth as he gauged her obvious and overwhelming response to him.

She clutched at the slippery, satiny lapels of his tuxedo jacket, lost in the sensation of his mouth on hers. Were all kisses like this? Did you always feel as if you were drowning, caught up in a whirlpool of pleasure, every sense singing? She’d never experienced anything like it, and all she knew was that she wanted more. Much more.

Her mouth opened under his and she stood on her tiptoes, straining to reach more of him. Feel more of him. Her breasts pressed against his chest and created even more arrows of sensations sizzling through her, making her whole being burn.

Rico slid his hands from her shoulders to her waist, anchoring her against him so her hips nudged his and she felt the hard throb of his arousal against her, shocking her to her core and thrilling her too. Even she, in her innocence, knew what that was. As much as it thrilled her, it also made a ripple of terror go through her. What was she doing? And did she want to stop?

Rico spread his fingers across her hip, each lean digit creating a burn even through her dress as if he were branding her by his touch. She was so achingly conscious of every part of him, from the hard planes of his chest and thighs to the sure movement of his mouth and the delightful press of his hands. He was everywhere on her, yet she still wanted more, a delicious and insistent ache of need starting at her centre and spreading outwards, right to her fingertips.

She felt so much, she was afraid she might combust, burst into flames right in front of him. How did people experience this and live?

Then, quite suddenly, Rico tore his mouth from hers and took a step away, raking his hands through his hair before dropping them to his sides. Colour blazed along his blade-like cheekbones and his breathing was ragged. He was, it seemed, as affected as she was, or almost, and that was an incredible thought.

Halina’s knees wobbled and she grabbed onto a nearby table to steady herself. She felt the absence of him like a physical thing, everything in her all at once turning empty, cold and aching. For a little while she’d felt so gloriously alive. She couldn’t let it end so quickly. She couldn’t let it end at all.

Because she knew then, no matter how inexperienced and nervous she was, she wanted more. Needed it. She wasn’t done with Rico...and she prayed he wasn’t done with her.

* * *

Rico gazed at Lina thoughtfully, trying to ignore the hectic thud of his own heart. He’d been far more affected by her clumsy kisses than he liked to admit, even to himself. Even in love-making, in the highest heights of his pleasure, he kept his control. To lose it would be another form of weakness, one he despised. He would not be a slave to any emotion, whether it was love or its poorer but equally powerful cousin, lust. He’d decided that a long time ago, when he’d watched someone walk away from him and felt his heart break. Never again. Never again would he allow someone to break something inside him. He wouldn’t even allow himself to be affected...at all. Never would he give in to the weakest emotion of them all, the torment of love.

And as for Lina... He let his gaze sweep over her, noting her flushed cheeks and swollen lips, her ink-dark, wavy hair falling in tumbling waves over her shoulders. Her breath shuddered through her, and artlessly she pressed one hand to her pounding heart. She was just as affected as he was, and she wasn’t even trying to hide it. He didn’t think it had even occurred to her to hide it, to hide anything, and that made her very different from the women he usually bedded.

Those women were beautiful and hard in a sharply glittering way, as determined to get his money as much as they were eager to get into his bed. He gave them pleasure, of that he was certain, but they didn’t respond as Lina just had—trembling and eager, unrestrained and artless, seeming to crave him just for him...which was an intoxicant in and of itself.

‘What is it?’ she asked, her voice a breathy whisper. ‘Why are you looking at me like that?’

‘How am I looking at you?’

‘As if I’m a puzzle you’re trying to solve.’

He laughed; he couldn’t help himself. She was absolutely right and he wasn’t used to that kind of perception, especially from a potential bed partner. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘That is how I’m looking at you. You intrigue me, Lina.’ More than she should. He didn’t want to be interested in the women he bedded, beyond their capabilities in that particular department.

Yet something about Lina, her utterly unrestrained response, made him pause. And then wonder. Because, he realised, she seemed the one thing he felt he’d never been, at least not since he’d been nine years old and realised that promises could be broken and dreams shattered. Easily.

What had given him pause just now was that Lina seemed innocent. And innocence was a quality in his bed partners he definitely did not want. He’d had enough dreams broken not to want to break anyone else’s, which was why he was so upfront about his relationships, if he could even call the sexual transactions he enjoyed such a thing.

‘I don’t think I’m that complicated, really,’ she said on a laugh, but the sound wobbled and she bit her lip, increasing Rico’s curiosity...and his unease. Why was she acting as if this was all so new to her?

‘Tell me what you were doing tonight at the party,’ he said abruptly. Her eyes widened in surprise at the sudden change of subject.

‘Trying to get into it,’ she answered with a shrug. ‘I didn’t have an invitation, as you realised.’

‘Do you do that often? Try to crash parties you aren’t invited to?’

‘Not...that often,’ Halina said, keeping his gaze, but clearly with effort.

‘But why that party?’ Rico pressed. ‘And why did you want to get into it so badly?’

A frown crinkled her forehead and something flashed in her eyes, something like unease. She was hiding something. But what? He’d already assumed she was a gold-digging mistress-in-expectation. What could she possibly be hiding that would bother him?

‘Why not that party?’ she challenged. ‘It looked fun.’

‘Were you hoping to meet someone in particular?’

She shrugged. ‘I was hoping to have fun.’

Rico swung away from her, annoyed as much with himself for pressing the point as he was with her for her non-answers. What did he care why she’d shown up tonight or what her motives were? What did he care at all? He never had before. And he wouldn’t now.

She was here in his suite for a reason. When she’d kissed him, as clumsily as she had, it had been with a genuine, eager desire. She was willing and so was he. That was all that mattered, surely?

And yet...it was almost as if she’d never been kissed before. She’d been so unrestrained, so open, and it had been that seeming innocence that had enflamed him. Yet surely she couldn’t be as innocent as all that? Surely she wouldn’t be in his suite now if she was?

‘I’ve drunk all my champagne.’

Rico turned to see Lina clutching her glass, a determined tilt to her chin. She held it out and after a second’s pause he reached for the bottle and poured her another glass, the fizz foaming over the top and onto her hand. She laughed and licked off the droplets, a move that seemed as thoughtless and uncomplicated as everything else she did. If it had been another woman, the kind of woman he was used to, he would have thought it a planned part of an attempt to ensnare him. Not that he could ever be ensnared.

‘Cin cin,’ she said again, a note of defiant bravado in her voice, and she lifted her glass to drink. Rico watched her, noting the sinuous movement of her throat as she swallowed, wondering yet again what was making him hesitate.

‘Cin cin,’ he answered automatically, even though he’d discarded his glass already. Slowly Lina lowered her glass, her eyes wide and dark above the rim as she stared at him.

‘I... I should probably go now,’ she said, and that surprised him even more. Was she playing hard to get? Or did she really mean it? And should he let her, considering how uneasy this whole exchange was making him feel? He felt strangely reluctant to watch her walk away, which was irritating and alarming in itself.

‘Do you want to go?’ he asked starkly.

She paused, her tongue darting out to dab a drop of champagne sparkling on her lips. Her gaze was wondering and transfixed as she slowly, so slowly, shook her head. ‘No...no, I don’t. But I probably should.’

‘Should? Why?’

‘Because you’re a dangerous man, Rico Falcone.’ She set the glass on a side table. ‘And you’re way out of my league.’

More honesty that took him by surprise. He wasn’t used to such unvarnished truth. ‘I’m not so dangerous if you know what to expect.’

‘Which is?’

‘A wonderful time and then a farewell.’ He was absolute about that. He would never be left again, never watch someone walk away, leaving his heart in pieces. No, he would watch whomever it was walk away, a smile on his face because he was in control. He was always in control.

‘Ah.’ She nodded slowly. ‘Just like the women said.’

‘Those women in the bathroom?’

‘The very same.’

He walked towards her, a long, loose-limbed, lazy stroll. ‘Forewarned is forearmed, or so they say.’

‘They said you kicked women out of your bed in rather indecent haste.’

‘I suppose it depends on whom you ask.’

He stood in front of her so he could feel the heat coming off her, the desire. Her body trembled. He felt as if they were both on the edge of a glorious precipice; all it would take was for one of them to take that first tumbling step.

‘I really should go.’ Her voice was soft.

‘Don’t play games with me, Lina.’ He met her gaze; her lids were half-lowered in dark challenge. ‘I abhor any kind of dishonesty. If you want to go, go.’ He swept one arm towards the lift. She didn’t move, and if she had he didn’t know what he would have done. Stopped her? Persuaded her to stay in any way that he could? Maybe. Probably.

But Lina stayed still, her gaze darting from the lift back to him. ‘This is madness,’ she whispered.

‘Why?’

‘Because...because I don’t even know you. And you don’t know me.’

‘We know enough.’

‘For you, maybe.’ She closed her eyes briefly. He had the sense that she was battling with herself, and he wondered why it was such a momentous decision. She’d come to the party. She’d come upstairs. Was she going to cling to some outdated remnant of morality now? Still, it felt bizarrely important not to push her. This would be a decision she’d make on her own, though God help them both if she walked away now.

Then Lina opened her eyes. Stared him straight in the face. Took a deep breath and spoke. ‘I’m staying.’