Читать книгу The Girl Nobody Wanted - Lynn Raye Harris - Страница 8

ANNA CONSTANTINIDES stood at the edge of the gathered crowd and hoped the serene countenance she’d practiced before the mirror for the past week was holding up. Tonight was, without doubt, the most humiliating night of her life. Her fiancé—correction, former fiancé—was marrying another woman.

It would not have been so bad, perhaps, if her fiancé wasn’t Prince Alessandro, heir to the Santina throne. She should have been his queen, yet she was currently the jilted bride.

A fact the media took great delight in reporting.

Again and again and again. She’d hardly had a peaceful moment since Alex had dumped her so publicly and humiliatingly for another woman. He hadn’t even had the courtesy to inform her personally. No, he’d let her find out in the pages of the tabloids. Simply mortifying.

The pity she’d had to endure. The knowing looks—even, surprisingly, a hint of censure. As if it were her fault somehow. As if she were the one who’d been caught kissing another man while engaged to someone else, as Alex had been photographed with Allegra Jackson.

Anna wanted nothing less than to be at his engagement party tonight, but she’d had no choice. “Anna,” her mother had said when she’d refused, “you must. Protocol demands it.”

“I don’t give a damn about protocol,” she’d replied. And she hadn’t. Why, when she’d dedicated her life to protocol and duty and been so spectacularly punished for it?

Her mother took her hands. “Sweetheart, do it for me. Queen Zoe is my oldest and dearest friend. I know she would be disappointed if we were not there to support her.”

Support her? Anna had wanted to laugh, to shout, to rail against the unfairness of life—but she had not. Ultimately, she had done precisely what her mother asked because, for pity’s sake, she felt guilty.

Anna stiffened her spine as the king began to toast the happy couple. But she lifted her glass of champagne along with everyone else, and prepared to drink to the health and happiness of Alex and Allegra, the woman who’d turned her preordained life upside down.

At least, thank goodness, she could be certain there were no photographers present tonight. They would be waiting outside the palace gates, naturally, but for now she was safe.

And yet she still had to smile, had to pretend she wasn’t dying from embarrassment. She would have to endure the stories, the photos, the quotes from anonymous “friends” who claimed she was holding up well, or that she was fragile, or that her heart had shattered into a million pieces.

Anna sipped her champagne on cue. Only an hour more, and she was out of here. Back to the hotel where she would crawl into her bed and pull the covers over her head. The toast ended, and then the ensemble began to play a waltz. Anna slipped her barely touched glass onto a passing waiter’s tray and turned toward the doors to the terrace. If she could escape for just a few moments, she could endure the next hour with a great deal more fortitude.

“Anna,” a woman called. “I’ve been looking for you.”

Anna gritted her teeth and turned toward Graziana Ricci, the Amanti foreign minister’s wife. The woman sashayed toward her, a bright smile pasted on her cosmetically enhanced face. But it wasn’t Signora Ricci who captured Anna’s attention. It was the man beside her.

An Englishman, she assumed, as there were so many who had descended upon Santina recently.

He was tall, dressed in a bespoke tuxedo like nearly every other man in the room, and quite striking. Handsome, in a boyish way that somehow wasn’t boyish at all. No, it was devilish, as if he knew the temptation he offered merely by existing. Eyes the color of roast coffee glittered in a face that had been carved by Michelangelo. Somehow, the look in those eyes dared her to envision him naked atop a pedestal.

Anna shook herself. Perhaps he was a work of art, but he had not been carved by Michelangelo. How silly.

But he could have been. His face was a study in angles sculpted for the sole purpose of making the owner appear sinfully irresistible to the female of the species. Sharply defined cheeks, a blade-straight nose, firm sensual lips and a small cleft at the base of his chin that deepened when he smiled.

And when he turned that smile on her, her heart skipped a beat.

Several beats.

The picture that filled her mind at that moment was decidedly uncharacteristic of her. She had absolutely no desire to kiss this man, no matter what her mind conjured up. It was stress, pure and simple.

As were the skipped beats. Stress.

The man smiled and winked, and Anna very deliberately looked away. Honestly, what was wrong with her?

“Anna, this is Leo Jackson,” Signora Ricci said, and Anna instantly stiffened. The other woman didn’t notice as she giggled, hugging his arm to her surgically enhanced body. Shameless hussy. “Leo is Allegra’s brother.”

As if he could be anyone else.

“How nice,” Anna said frostily, her heart careening out of control with anger and helpless frustration. Allegra’s brother. As if his sister ruining her life weren’t enough, she now had to be faced with another Jackson when she quite simply wished them all to hell. Which wasn’t very polite or charitable of her, she knew, but it was how she felt right now. “Welcome to Santina, Mr. Jackson. If you will excuse me, I was just on my way to… to an appointment.”

It was a lie and her face flamed the instant she said it. Not because she cared that she’d lied, but because Leo Jackson arched one perfect eyebrow as if he knew she wanted to escape him. His lips quirked, and the flame inside her burned hotter.

But was it embarrassment or something else?

Embarrassment, she decided firmly. There could certainly be no other reason for it. If not for his sister, she wouldn’t be in this predicament now. She wouldn’t be standing here enduring the humiliation of hundreds of eyes surreptitiously turning upon her every time Alex leaned in close to his new fiancée and whispered something in her ear.

“I’m sorry to hear that, Anna,” Leo said, using her given name as if he had every right in the world. Arrogant man! But her skin prickled with heat at the way her name sounded when he said it. Soft, sexy, alluring. Not boring Anna, but beautiful, exciting Anna.

“Nevertheless,” she said, standing as straight and tall as she could. “It is the case.”

What was wrong with her? Why was she being fanciful? She was simply Anna. And that’s precisely who she wanted to be. Anna was safe, predictable, quietly elegant. She was not bold or brassy. Nothing like Signora Ricci, thank heavens.

Signora Ricci’s mouth turned down in an exaggerated frown. “This will not take but a moment. I had hoped you could show Leo around Amanti tomorrow. He is thinking of building a luxury hotel.”

Anna glanced at Leo Jackson. There was something dark and intense behind those eyes, no matter that one corner of his mouth turned up in a mocking grin. A fire began to burn low in her belly. She might be the tourist ambassador to the neighboring island of Amanti, but that didn’t mean she had to personally show this man the sights.

It wasn’t safe. He wasn’t safe. She felt it in her bones.

Besides, his sister had stolen her future, and even if that wasn’t his fault, she couldn’t forget it if she were forced to spend time with him. No, she wanted nothing to do with this man—with anyone named Jackson.

“I’m afraid that’s not possible, Signora Ricci. I have other things to attend to. I can arrange for someone else—”

The other woman scoffed. “What is more important than Amanti’s economy? This would be good for us, yes? And you are the best for the job. What else do you have to do now that you have no wedding to prepare for?”

Anna swallowed her tongue as bitter acid scoured her throat. If she weren’t a dignified person, a calm and controlled person, she might just strangle Graziana Ricci where she stood.

But no, Anna Constantinides had more dignity than that. She’d been raised to be serene, to be a perfect queen. She would not break because one woman dared to insult her on a day when she’d already been insulted by her ex-fiancé and the overwhelming media coverage of his new engagement. She was strong. She could handle this.

“If tomorrow doesn’t work,” Leo interjected, “the next day surely will.” He pulled a card from his pocket and held it out. “My personal number. Call me when you are available.”

Anna accepted the card because to do otherwise would be rude. His fingers brushed hers, and a tongue of fire sizzled along her nerve endings. She snatched her hand back, certain she’d find her skin blackened where he’d touched her. Graziana Ricci had turned away, distracted by an elderly matron who gesticulated wildly about something.

“I’m not sure when that will be, Mr. Jackson. It might truly be better for someone else to take you.”

“And yet you are the tourist ambassador,” he said with a hint of steel underlying the polite veneer in his tone. “Unless, of course, you do not like me for some reason?”

Anna swallowed. “I don’t know you. How could I possibly dislike you?”

His gaze cut toward the front of the room where Alex and Allegra were currently standing close together and talking in hushed tones. “How indeed?”

Anna thrust her chin out. It was bad enough she had to endure this night, but for this man to know how she felt? It was insupportable. “Tell me about this hotel you propose to build,” she said. “How will this help Amanti?”

His gaze slid down her body, heat trailing behind it. Dangerous, a voice whispered.

He took his time meeting her eyes again. “Have you not heard of the Leonidas Group?”

She was proud of herself for not showing her surprise. If the Leonidas Group wanted to build a hotel on Amanti, that could be a very good thing. “Of course I have. They own some of the most luxurious hotels in the world and cater to the wealthiest of clients. Do you work for them, Mr. Jackson?”

His laughter was rich, rolling from him in golden tones that vibrated through her. “I own the Leonidas Group, Anna.”

Again with her name, and again with the prickle of awareness skimming along her nerve endings. “How fortunate for Amanti,” she said, because she could think of nothing else to say. She felt like a fool for missing the Leo in Leonidas, though it wasn’t an immediately obvious connection. But if he owned the Leonidas Group, he must be very wealthy indeed.

He leaned in closer. “Perhaps you will change your mind about tomorrow, then.”

Heat coiled tightly inside her. His voice was a delicious rumble in her ear, though she tried not to notice precisely how delicious. She was tired, that was all. He was just a man, and men were fickle. Unpredictable. Dishonorable.

She closed her eyes, her heart thrumming steadily. It was uncharitable to think of Alex that way, and yet she couldn’t help it. He’d made a promise, damn him!

“I will have to check my calendar,” she said coolly.

His smile made her heart skip a beat. Too, too charming. Perhaps his sister was equally as charming. Perhaps that’s how she’d stolen Alex away.

“And yet, when you wake up and see the morning papers, you will no doubt wish yourself far from Santina.”

A current of dread slid through her, icy fingers scraping her soul. The papers. They would be filled with news of Alex and Allegra tomorrow—and she would be mentioned side by side with them. The poor jilted bride. The faithful girl who’d been stood up by a prince. Sad little heiress, no longer a queen-in-waiting.

Anna’s throat constricted. She absolutely did not want to be here tomorrow. And he was giving her a way out, though she would have to endure his company. But which was worse? The media frenzy, or Leo Jackson?

If she took him to Amanti, they wouldn’t escape the attention entirely, but at least they would be out of Alex and Allegra’s proximity. Perhaps the press might not think her so sad and distraught if she were seen going about her duties.

“I’ve just remembered,” she said, proud that she managed to sound so cold and detached. Professional. “My appointment isn’t for tomorrow after all. I keep getting my days mixed up. It’s for the next day.”

“Is that so?” Leo said, his gaze slipping over her once more. There was heat and promise in that voice, and a hint of possession, as well. It infuriated her—and intrigued her.

“If you wish to tour Amanti,” she said crisply, already partially regretting the impulse that had her choosing him over tomorrow’s papers, “we can leave around nine in the morning.”

“Nine?” he mocked. “I doubt I’ll have slept off tonight’s debaucheries by then.”

Anna felt her ears going hot. She refused to picture any debauchery. “Nine o’clock, Mr. Jackson. Or not at all.”

“You drive a hard bargain, darling,” he drawled, as if he weren’t in the least bit dangerous to her sense of well-being. “But we’ll do it your way.”

Before she knew what he was about, he caught her hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it. Her skin tingled as his warm breath washed over her, his beautiful lips skimming so lightly over her flesh. She couldn’t suppress the small shudder that racked her body or the ache of sensation that made her crave more of his touch.

Leo Jackson looked up, his gaze sharp. Too sharp. As if he’d seen through to the core of her and knew what she’d been thinking. That devilish grin was back as his coffee-colored eyes glittered with heat. “Tomorrow, darling,” he said. “I look forward to it.”

Anna pulled her hand away, tried very hard to ignore the pulsing throb in her belly, between her legs. “I’m not your darling, Mr. Jackson.”

He winked. “Not yet. But let’s see what tomorrow brings, shall we?”

After a restless night, Anna rose early the next morning, and then showered and dressed with care. She was the tourist ambassador to Amanti, not a woman going on a date, so she chose a fashionable skirt and blazer. She paired the gray suit with a red silk camisole—her one nod to color—her pearls, and gray suede pumps. She wrapped her long dark hair in a neat knot and secured it with pins. Then she slipped on mascara and lip gloss before walking over to the cheval glass and studying her reflection from head to toe.

She looked professional, competent. Precisely the way she wanted to appear. She absolutely did not care whether Leo Jackson found her attractive or not.

Liar.

Anna frowned at herself. She wasn’t unattractive; she was professional. And she intended to stay that way. If she could control nothing else about these chaotic past few weeks, she could at least control her image. And this was the image she wanted to project. Serenity in the face of turmoil. Grace under fire. A calm port in the storm.

Anna patted her hair one last time before she whirled away from the mirror, found her handbag and cell phone, checked her calendar to make sure she’d taken care of everything and left her room at precisely twenty to nine. Her room was two floors up from Leo Jackson’s room, but first she took an elevator down to the dining room and grabbed a quick cup of coffee and a whole-grain muffin before going back up to Leo’s floor. At three minutes to nine, she knocked on his door.

Nothing happened. Anna frowned as she listened for movement behind the door. She checked her watch, studied the sweep of the second hand across the mother-of-pearl face. At nine o’clock precisely, she knocked again. “Mr. Jackson?” she said, pressing her face close to the door in order not to wake any of the other late-sleeping guests in nearby rooms. “Are you in there?”

Two minutes later, when she’d knocked yet again—louder this time, because she was getting very annoyed—the door jerked open.

Anna’s stomach flipped at the sight of Leo Jackson in all his bad-boy glory. Heavens above, why did this man have to be so compelling? She should feel nothing for him but contempt. Not only had his family wrecked her perfect life, but he was also not the sort of man a proper lady should ever get involved with.

Yet heat bloomed in her cheeks as she thought of his comment last night about debauchery. Because that’s precisely what he looked like—as if he’d spent the night in some lucky woman’s bed, debauching her thoroughly.

Before she could control herself, Anna thought that she wanted to be debauched. Thoroughly. Repeatedly.

If she could have slapped her palms to her cheeks in horror, she would have done so. She most definitely did not want to be debauched—and certainly not by this rogue.

“Hello, darling,” Leo said casually, his sensual lips twisting in that arrogant grin that had featured so prominently in her thoughts last night while she’d tossed and turned in her bed. And yet, in the moment before he’d spoken, she’d sensed something behind that playboy demeanor, something tightly leashed in and controlled.

A sleek, dangerous beast on a tether.

“Mr. Jackson,” she replied coolly, hoping he couldn’t see the thrum of her pulse in her throat. “We had an appointment at nine, I believe.”

He ran a hand through his dark hair. His eyes gleamed with interest as his gaze slipped over her. He had a day’s growth of beard on his face—and she’d never seen anything sexier in her life.

Neither, it seemed, had some other woman. Or, heaven forbid, women. Yes, she definitely could see Leo Jackson taking more than one woman home with him at a time.

Oh, dear… The images in her head were definitely not safe for public consumption.

But he stood in the door, looking so dissolute and sexy in his tuxedo from last night she couldn’t form a coherent thought as she studied him. The beast was concealed once more, so that she found herself wondering if she’d imagined it. But she had not, she was certain. He was smooth and magnificent—and not quite what he seemed to be at first glance.

His jacket hung open and his shirt was unbuttoned. The tie and studs were gone, probably tucked into a pocket. A bright smudge of pink was smeared across the pristine white of his collar. Lipstick, she realized with a jolt. And not the color Graziana Ricci had been wearing.

She was positive, looking at him, that he’d not spent the night in his own bed. In fact, she was pretty sure he hadn’t slept at all. She tried not to think of what he’d been doing instead—or whom he’d been doing it with.

While she had lain awake thinking about this man, he’d forgotten all about her. Clearly, as his lack of readiness and his delay in answering the door indicated. She only hoped her cheeks weren’t scarlet. What if he had a woman in there right now?

“I—I can come back later,” she blurted. “If you’re, um, busy.”

“Not at all,” he said smoothly, wrapping a hand around her elbow and pulling her into the room. She caught her heel and stumbled to a halt in the small foyer of his suite, her hands automatically bracing against his chest as she nearly lost her balance.

“Sorry about that, darling,” he said, his arms enveloping her. His broad hands were on her back, her waist, searing into her like a flaming-hot brand. Her heart skittered. She had an impression of a sleeping lion rearing its head and sniffing the air for prey.

“I don’t think you’re sorry at all,” she bit out, and then stifled a gasp when she realized what she’d said. No matter how she felt about Leo Jackson, it wasn’t permissible to be rude. She’d spent a lifetime learning the art of diplomacy, a skill she would have needed as Queen of Santina one day. And she’d just failed miserably, hadn’t she?

No wonder Alex had left her. Except, how was Allegra Jackson any better suited to be a queen, considering how scandalously her family had behaved last night?

If appearances were any indication, this particular Jackson had behaved very badly indeed.

Leo laughed, the fingers of one hand caressing the furrow of her spine through her clothing. Oh, if he kept doing that… Heat and light flared inside her, slid through her limbs until she wanted to mold herself to him like a second skin. His body was hard against hers, hot. It disconcerted her, and thrilled her. How could she react to this man so soon after Alex had turned her world upside down?

“Since you’ve landed in my arms, perhaps I’m not sorry,” he said.

No man had ever held her so close. Not even Alex. She’d learned to dance with men, to conduct herself with poise and grace, and she’d been in a man’s embrace before. But not this kind of embrace. This hot, needy, sensual embrace that was, on the surface, not improper at all.

Except for how it made her feel. Oh, yes, she felt quite improper when Leo Jackson had his arms around her. As if she wanted to feel skin against skin, mouth against mouth. As if she wanted to burn up in his arms and see what it felt like.

Ridiculous, since she didn’t even know him. The stress of the past few weeks had obviously affected her brain.

Anna disentangled herself from his embrace and took a step back. She tugged on the bottom of her jacket to straighten it. Then she patted her hair, happy that no stray wisps had escaped the confinement of her knot.

Leo shook his head as he studied her with an expression of bemusement on his face. “Afraid of what you might feel if you let yourself go, darling?”

Fire burst through her, making twin spots rise in her cheeks. “Stop calling me darling,” she said firmly. “And stop trying to seduce me, Mr. Jackson. It won’t work.”

She wouldn’t let it work.

The gleam in his eyes was predatory. Feral. Exciting.

Dangerous.

“Really? Not feeling the least bit angry about your fiancé and my sister? Not aching to put it all behind you with a few pleasurable hours?”

Anna lifted her chin. He’d seen right through her, hadn’t he? “Actually, that sounds quite lovely. But first I’ll need to find someone to spend those hours with.”

“I’m wounded,” he said lightly, though something in his expression made her take a step back.

“I doubt that,” she replied crisply. “You’ll have moved on to the next woman on your list without a moment’s regret, I’m certain. We are all interchangeable to you.”

Was that irritation flaring in his dark eyes? Anger?

Or pain? It shocked her enough that she couldn’t decide. But then it was gone so quickly she began to wonder if she’d imagined it. Did she want him to have a conscience so it would make this strange attraction to him more bearable?

Probably.

Still, her outburst went against everything she’d ever been taught. She was out of her depth lately, stressed and furious and hurt. She had to govern herself better. “Forget I said that. It was rude.”

“And you can’t stand being rude, can you, Anna?” His voice caressed her name exactly as she’d imagined it last night, while lying awake in her bed.

“It’s not the way I was raised,” she said primly. Then she glanced at her watch, because the air felt suddenly thick and hot and she didn’t know what else to do. “We’re running late, Mr. Jackson. Our boat is at the dock. We were supposed to leave five minutes ago.”

“Heaven forbid we are late. But you can cancel the boat. The tour will go much faster if we take my plane.”

Anna blinked. “Plane? Amanti is only twenty-five miles away by sea. The boat will have us there in under an hour, and then we can hire a car to take us around the island.”

His expression was patient but firm. “I need to see the coast. We’ll fly around the island first, and then land and have a tour, yes?”

Anna reached for her pearls, comforting herself with the solid feel of them between her fingers. He was overriding all her plans. It was too much like what had happened to her life lately, and it made her nervous. Uncertain. Damn, how she hated that feeling.

“But I’ve already arranged things,” she said firmly, attempting to regain control of the situation. “There is no need for you to put yourself out, Mr. Jackson.”

He reached for her again, put his hands on either side of her shoulders and bent until his gorgeous eyes were on a level with hers. Her heart flipped. “Arrangements can be changed, Anna. And you really need to call me Leo.”

She darted her tongue over her lower lip. “I’d prefer to keep this professional, if you don’t mind.”

“I do mind,” he said, his eyes darkening.

Anna tried not to let the warm, spicy scent of him wrap around her senses. But he was too close, and he smelled so good, and her stomach was knotting with tension at his proximity. He confused her. She ached in ways she never had before, and she wanted things she’d once looked upon with quiet acceptance. She’d expected to be intimate with Alex, of course. She hadn’t expected to find out she wanted that intimacy with a kind of earthy sensuality that was completely foreign to her nature.

But not with Alex.

With this man. With Leo.

“Keep looking at me that way, and we won’t go anywhere,” he murmured, his voice a lovely growl in his throat. She imagined him growling against her skin, his body twining intimately with hers, and swallowed hard.

It was shocking to be thinking these thoughts. And so very, very titillating.

She might be a virgin, but she wasn’t stupid. She was modern enough to have read a few books on sex. She’d even managed to watch a video, the memory of which had her heart hurtling forward. The way the man had put his head between the woman’s legs and—

“Anna,” Leo groaned. “Stop.”

Anna shook herself. What was wrong with her? Baiting a lion in his den? Was she insane?

“Really, I have no idea what you’re talking about Mr.—Leo. You have a very dirty mind.”

His sharp bark of laughter was not quite what she expected. He let her go abruptly, and her skin tingled through her clothes where he’d so recently touched her. “I think if this tour stands a chance of getting off the ground, I’d better change.”

“That would be wise,” she said primly.

She stood in the foyer, uncertain whether to follow or stay where she was. In the end, she decided to stay. She could hear him moving around, hear a soft curse as a door opened and shut again. She looked at her reflection in the mirror, blushed anew at her heightened color. Leo Jackson brought out the worst in her.

She was just beginning to worry about how long she’d been standing there when he reappeared. A jolt of surprise went through her at the sight of him. She didn’t know what she’d expected, but his casual attire had not quite been it.

He wore a long-sleeved navy shirt, unbuttoned midchest, with a white T-shirt beneath. Half the shirt was tucked into faded, ripped jeans. The other half hung free in a kind of casual slouch that proclaimed this man didn’t care about rules.

But the truth was that he looked utterly gorgeous. The height of Bohemian fashion, while she stood there in her prim suit and felt frumpy. Stuffy. Oh, the suit was expensive, but it was staid. Safe and boring. A generation too old for her, perhaps. The stylist had tried to get her to go with a shorter hem, a nipped-in waist, but she’d refused.

She was regretting it at the moment.

“Ready, my love?” he asked, and her heart skipped a beat.

“Only if you stop calling me names,” she said, her jaw aching with the effort it took to be polite as she forced the words out.

He grinned, and her heart melted. Damn it. Damn him.

“I can try, sweet Anna.”

Somehow, that was even worse.