He pronounced the name like a softened version of ‘Joe’, though in his beautiful accent it had nothing like the ordinary solidity of the English form.
‘Terrie Hayden…’
Did she really have to touch that hand? She had reacted badly enough to the brief, faint brush of it against her leg. How much worse would she feel if she had to grasp those strong-boned fingers, feel the heat of that satin olive skin against her own?
But it seemed she had no choice. Taking a deep breath, she put her own hand into his, sharp white teeth digging into her lower lip as his strength closed around her. The sensation of grasping a live electrical wire sent a powerful, burning reaction zigzagging up her arm, making her head swim so that she missed Gio’s murmured response.
‘I’m sorry?’
‘Terry?’ he repeated, frowning faintly. ‘But that is a man’s name—no?’
‘It’s Terrie—with an i and an e, not a y.’
Carefully she eased her hand away from his, struggling to resist the impulse to cradle it against her, as if his touch had actually burned her skin.
‘It’s short for Teresa actually. But, like you, no one ever calls me by my proper name.’
‘I would. Terrie is not right for you—but Teresa…’
He made it sound so very different, Terrie registered with a sense of shock. After so many years of being called Tereesa, then his lyrical pronunciation of Terayza had a lovely, musical sound that made her smile unconsciously.
‘I will call you Teresa.’
He could call her anything he liked, if he would just continue to speak to her in that wonderful voice; if he would smile into her eyes in that enticing way. The effect of that smile was to make her feel as if she was bathed in the warm sun of some Mediterranean country, which was obviously where he had been born.
‘What part of Italy are you from?’ she asked impulsively.
‘I am a Sicilian. My home is in Palermo.’
It fitted. Italy would have given him the smooth sophistication that he wore with the sleek ease of an elegant cat. And Sicily had added the dangerous, untamed streak that burned in the tawny eyes, the curl of his mouth. Knowing he came from Sicily was like opening the door to the family pet cat, only to find that in its place a dark, dangerous, predatory jaguar had prowled into the room.
‘I’d love to visit Sicily! I’ve never been further abroad than a weekend trip to Bruges, and I’d really like to travel more.’
‘Well, perhaps now that you’ve decided to “chuck the job in” you’ll get the chance to do just that.’
At first Terrie thought that it was just the way that the slang phrase sounded strange on his tongue that made her pause, considering it thoughtfully. But next moment came the stunning realisation that he was quoting her own words directly, making her head whirl in shock.
‘Chuck the—you heard that! You were listening!’
‘You weren’t exactly quiet. I wasn’t aware that what you were saying was a state secret. If you hadn’t wanted anyone else to hear then you should have kept your voice lower.’
Was she really trying to pretend that she hadn’t meant him to ‘overhear’? After that openly interested look, the way that she had announced that she was bored and looking for some fun was a deliberate come-on if ever he’d heard one. It was too late for her to back down now.
And, if the truth was told, he would be disappointed if she did. He had no time for games, for the two steps forward, one step back dance of seduction. For the flirtatious pretence of needing to be wooed in order to be won. He knew what he wanted out of this—and, he was sure, so did she. So why were they playing around?
‘Have dinner with me.’
‘What?’
The question came so sharply, so unexpectedly that it caught Terrie totally off guard. It also caught her mid-swallow of another sip of wine and she had to close her mouth hurriedly and gulp it down hard so as not to choke.
‘What did you say?’ she asked, lavender eyes opening wide in apparent shock.
Was this not what she wanted, then? Of course it was, so why did she look so startled, as if the invitation was a total surprise? Or was it that he had acted too fast, cut through some of the expected moves, the polite chat, the ‘getting to know you’ that she had been anticipating?
Hadn’t she expected him to be quite so forthright?
Well, he wasn’t in the mood for observing convention, even if waiting increased the pleasure for her.
‘Have dinner with me. Oh, come on, mia bella! Don’t look so shocked! It’s not as if I’ve asked you to come to bed with me right here and now. It’s only dinner.’
Only dinner! Terrie’s head was spinning with the suddenness and the shock of it all. It was only—what?—less than half an hour since she had first spotted this man on the opposite side of the room. No more than twenty minutes since he had caught her eye and given her the most furiously off-putting glare it had ever been her misfortune to encounter. Then he had sneaked up on her, frightened her into dropping her glass, and now…
‘You want me to have dinner with you?’
‘And is that so hard to understand?’
The beautiful voice had developed a hard edge that reminded her unnervingly of the glare he had turned on her earlier.
‘I know English is not my first language, but I would have thought…’
‘Your English is perfect and you damn well know it! But after the look you gave me a while ago—when you were sitting over there…’ Terrie waved a hand in the direction of the Sicilian’s previous seat. ‘I would have thought that you couldn’t wait to see the back of me.’
‘Ah, that…’
Gio had the grace to look a little shamefaced. The sensual shape of his mouth twisted slightly as he swirled the last drops of his wine round and round in the bottom of his glass.
‘That wasn’t meant for you,’ he murmured, his attention apparently fixed on the rich red liquid. ‘I was angry with someone else—someone I had expected to meet.’
‘Another woman?’
Of course. It figured. He had been stood up and now he wanted to fill the unexpectedly empty hours with someone else.
‘Well, you certainly know how to make a girl feel second best.’
‘Come?’
Those heavy lids flew up, stunning eyes fixing on her face, his confusion apparently genuine.
‘No—you have it totally wrong. The man I was supposed to meet was someone I work with—it was a business meeting. He rang a short time ago to say that he couldn’t make it.’
‘So you’re all on your own?’
She tried to make it sound grudging, as if she was not fully mollified, but only succeeded in coming across as making a hasty reassessment and coming close to conceding.
‘All on my own—a stranger lost in London… You don’t believe me?’
Her expression had given her away.
‘You’re no more lost than I am! Less, in fact. You look more at home here than I do. In fact I’d be willing to bet that you know your way around London as well as you do Palermo.’
‘I’ll concede you that.’
The admission was accompanied by another of those smiles that had the force of a thousand-watt electrical charge, the effect of it sizzling straight through every single nerve in her body and making her toes curl in instant reaction