Rose was aware that she could probably just tug her hand out of his and flee, get lost in the crowd and escape through a side entrance, but…treacherously…she didn’t.
ONCE THEY WERE in the vast marbled lobby, the increased flow of oxygen helped to unlock a delayed dose of cynicism that mocked Zac for being so taken by a woman. Yet even this rush of sanity couldn’t stop the realisation that he hadn’t felt so alive in a long time.
And certainly no woman had ever precipitated this level of arousal. He took her over to a secluded area and as soon as he looked at her he felt any attempt to control his libido turn to dust.
Her cheeks were flushed and her chest was moving up and down rapidly. Cynicism be damned. He didn’t want its protection now—he needed to see her. He took his own mask off and threw it carelessly but expertly into a nearby bin. He saw how her eyes widened on his face and his body pulsed with desire.
‘Now you,’ he said softly. ‘I want to see you.’
For a second she bit her lip, and he had the crazy notion that she was going to refuse and walk away and he’d be left with just her name… But then she nodded a little jerkily and took her hands out of his to lift them to the back of her head.
‘Wait—’ Zac cursed silently. His voice sounded too harsh. Needy.
She looked at him, arms lifted.
‘I want to do it. Turn around.’
Slowly her arms came down and she turned, giving him her bare, slender back. Zac had to restrain himself from slipping his hands under the sides of her dress and around to cup her breasts in his palms. Just imagining the scrape of small hard nipples against his skin was enough to send his arousal levels into orbit.
Instead he lifted his hands to where the mask was tied and undid the knot, letting it fall open. She caught the mask in her hand, in front of her face, and Zac slowly turned her around again, a crazy surge of anticipation tightening his gut.
And when she lifted her face to his…he stopped breathing.
She was stunning. But in a way that caught Zac in a different place than when he usually looked at a beautiful woman. She was ethereal…delicate. The faintest trail of freckles sat across her small, straight nose. Her cheekbones were high, elevating her face out of mere prettiness. And her mouth was ripe and full, like a crushed rosebud. Rose, indeed. Not caked in lipstick. Ripe for kissing.
Her eyes held him captive. Huge and green, with tiny flecks of gold.
They stood looking at each other for long silent seconds—until Zac realised that they were still in a public place. He’d never lost himself like this…in a moment. As if she was some fey creature in an enchanted wood who’d captivated him.
Feeling more than a little exposed, he took a breath and stepped back. Rose blinked, her long black lashes a contrast to her fair brows. Suddenly Zac wanted to see her in a more contemporary setting, as if that might somehow help defuse this sense of not being connected to reality any more.
He took her hand in his again and started to lead her back to the main part of the lobby, sending a silent signal to the attentive concierge to get his car brought round.
‘Wait…where are we going?’
She was tugging on Zac’s hand and he stopped to face her. There was something he’d never seen before in the depths of those amazing emerald-green eyes. Wariness. Women weren’t wary around Zac. They were confident, seductive. Intent on pursuing him.
Not this one. Bells rang in his head, telling him to be suspicious. But the heat in his body drowned them out. He wanted her more than he’d ever wanted a woman. There was something about her that called to a very animalistic part of him.
‘We’re going to one of my clubs.’
Rose’s eyes widened slightly. She appeared almost reluctant, but then she said, ‘Okay.’
Zac felt a moment of lightness bubble up inside him. ‘Just…okay? You don’t care which one?’ He did own three of the most successful clubs in Manhattan, after all.
‘Should I?’
Her guileless question caught him unawares. Of course she shouldn’t. But in his experience everyone always wanted to go to the hottest place. The place that was so hot it wasn’t even hot yet.
Zac tugged her closer. ‘I’ll choose, then, shall I?’
She just nodded. He very badly wanted to kiss her right then, but he’d never indulged in public displays of affection in his life, and he was aware of a million pairs of curious eyes on them. So he drew back.
A discreet cough came from nearby. ‘Mr Valenti? Your car is here.’
Zac thanked the man and led Rose outside to where the valet was holding the passenger door open. Zac tipped him and helped Rose into the low-slung silver Falcone sports car.
When he’d got in behind the wheel he looked over to see her staring straight ahead, her hands clenched in her lap, still holding on to her mask. She swallowed, the long graceful column of her throat moving up and down. She was tense.
Something alien moved within Zac. Concern. ‘I can take you home, if you’d prefer?’
Personally, he would prefer to walk over hot coals than let her go anywhere out of his sight. But he was not about to admit that weakness.
After a few interminable seconds she turned to look at him and the shadows of the car made her face even more ethereally beautiful. She was pale, but determined. As if she’d made some kind of decision.
She shook her head. ‘No, I want to go with you.’
Zac felt a disturbingly strong flare of triumph. He ignored it and lifted her hand, forcing it to uncurl, slipping his fingers between hers. A relatively chaste gesture, but one that felt positively carnal when he saw how her eyes dilated. He brought it to his mouth and pressed his lips against her knuckles. A sweet, delicate scent filled his nostrils. Tantalising. Innocent.
His body tightened with anticipation.
‘Well, then, let’s go.’
Rose was very aware that she’d had two opportunities now to decline Zac Valenti’s invitation gracefully and leave. Before this farce continued. But as he’d looked down at her in the lobby she’d been agreeing before she’d been able to stop herself, transfixed by his sheer male beauty.
And what excuse did she have for saying yes just now? None.
But, as Zac’s car purred silently and powerfully through the streets of Manhattan, for the first time in her life Rose felt a very rogue urge to rebel, to do something she wanted. Which was to eke out another few illicit moments in his company.
She’d never felt so intoxicated. It was heady. The way he’d removed her mask…it was the closest she’d ever come to an erotic moment. And then the way he’d looked at her, with such thrillingly explicit intent… Her heart still beat a frantic tattoo.
She’d never had much of a chance to indulge in flirtation with men; her time had been taken up with work and caring for her father. Was it so bad to want a little more of this man’s attention?
Yes, because you know very well that if he knew who you were and why you were here he’d have you out of the car so fast your head would be spinning for a year…
That almost caused Rose to turn in her seat and ask Zac to stop the car, but they were pulling up outside the club now, which appeared to be in the basement of a very tall, gleaming modern building.
Zac