The Flaw in His Diamond. Susan Stephens

the designer clothes in the world couldn’t hide his warrior frame. He’d been born to fight, and it was hard to imagine him in some cosy aristocratic setting—

      ‘Done staring at me, Ms Skavanga?’

      She gave a start. She hadn’t realised she was examining him quite so intently. And that smile was back on his mocking lips. Her throat dried. She was used to straightforward emotions: black and white. She was not accustomed to this level of sophisticated banter. ‘Please don’t let me keep you. I’m quite happy to stay here—’

      ‘In the hall?’ He gazed around with a sardonic expression curving his firm, sexy mouth. ‘I’m sure you are. But if you think for one minute that I’m happy to leave you unattended in my home? I don’t think so, Ms Skavanga. You’re coming with me.’

      ‘What?’ Shock raced through her body at the thought of an evening with the count.

      ‘You’re the last person I’d leave alone in my house. Your reputation precedes you, Ms Skavanga. How do I know you won’t change the locks while I’m away?’

      Mock all you like, but I’m here and I’m not going anywhere. But...if she did go with him, someone might be able to give her a room for the night. ‘Fine,’ she agreed. ‘I’ll come down with you when you leave and wait for you in the village.’

      ‘My same concerns apply,’ he said. ‘I won’t risk you upsetting people. You’re here and I’m responsible for you, which means I’m not letting you loose on any unsuspecting villagers. You’re going to stay close by me where I can keep an eye on you. You’re coming with me to the wedding.’

      ‘A wedding?’ She laughed. ‘Impossible. I don’t have anything remotely suitable to wear.’

      ‘Then you will have to improvise. I’m not leaving you here on your own, and that’s final. And I will be leaving the palazzo in half an hour. You need to be ready by then.’

      ‘But if I could find a bed for the night in the village, surely you would prefer that?’

      ‘I wish you joy of your search. Every bed is taken for the wedding, and, as I have no intention of letting you out of my sight, you have no alternative but to stay here for the night.’

      ‘With you?’

      ‘Well, I’m not going anywhere. Of course, you could return home?’ The count glanced at his watch. ‘If you hurry, you might catch the last ferry.’

      ‘Do you have any idea how hard it has been to track you down so I can express my concerns to you face to face? Do you seriously think I’m going to leave without doing that?’

      The count gave her a look. ‘That is one option to consider.’

      ‘Not a chance.’

      ‘In that case,’ he murmured in a mocking tone, ‘my home is your home for the next twenty-four hours, Ms Skavanga. But don’t get any ideas.’ His voice hardened. ‘You leave when I say you leave. And the next item in your diary is a wedding party, and I am never late.’

      She flinched at the count’s tone. She wasn’t used to being talked to like that. She drove situations in Skavanga. She did not take instruction. The count’s stare was steady and appraising, and not the least bit amused, when she was more accustomed to good-humoured tolerance of her laddish ways.

      ‘Roman Quisvada.’

      ‘I beg your pardon?’ She gazed up, bewildered for a moment as he spoke.

      ‘Introductions,’ he said. ‘As you’re coming to stay in my home, I think we should at least be civil to each other.’ He took her hand in a firm grip.

      The handshake might have lasted no more than a few seconds, but the effect lasted a lot longer.

      ‘Call me Roman,’ he murmured, staring down at her.

      As in emperor? Conqueror?

      The count’s stare suggested either description was apt. One thing was sure, Roman Quisvada only accepted one rank, and that was Commander-in-Chief. Where he led others followed. When he spoke others listened. And much as a wolf wouldn’t trouble himself about the ants he trod on, she barely registered a blip on his radar.

      Were those black eyes laughing at her again? Arrogant man!

      Infuriatingly, her body didn’t seem to care. There didn’t seem to be an insult he could deal her that could stop her wilful body craving him. Or her eyes devouring him, Eva reluctantly conceded. ‘Well, I’m glad I’ve got your interest at last,’ she said coolly, checking her towel was securely fixed.

      ‘Oh, you’ve got my interest,’ he confirmed as he started to mount the stairs. ‘Though there may come a day when you wish you hadn’t.’

      ‘Are you threatening me?’ Her voice sounded much smaller than she had intended.

      ‘I’m just letting you know I’ll be watching you.’

      Her pulse leapt at the thought, while her mind warned her frantically that this was not a good thing. ‘That’s fine by me,’ she said with a careless shrug. ‘You can waste your time watching me all you want. I don’t know what you think I’m going to do.’

      ‘Right now you’re going to take a shower and change your clothes, and then you’re going to meet me in the hall.’

      She bridled at his orders. And wearing what? A tee bearing the name of an ancient rock band and a fresh pair of jeans? A wedding had been the very last thing on her mind when she left Skavanga, and it certainly wasn’t in her nature to insult the bride and groom by turning up wearing something like that. ‘I’d much rather wait on the sidelines for you.’

      ‘I’m sure you would. But that’s not how it’s going to be, Eva. We’re going down to the village together, and we’re going to attend the wedding together.’

      ‘Won’t people ask questions?’

      ‘And if they do?’

      ‘Wouldn’t it be easier for you to spare a few minutes to talk to me before you leave for the wedding?’ she suggested, trying hard not to register Roman’s intoxicating, warm and spicy scent.

      ‘Easy isn’t my way, Eva.’

      ‘Well, if a wedding’s more important to you—’

      ‘That’s enough,’ he rapped, shocking her into silence. ‘Shall we both examine our motives for being here, Miss Self-Righteous? I’m here on the island for my cousin’s wedding. What’s your excuse?’