in desperate arousal.
‘Mr Ferranti?’ The woman on the other end of the line must have been speaking for a while and Marco hadn’t heard a word.
‘I’m sorry. Can you say that again?’
A short while later Sierra came downstairs, dressed in a T-shirt and snug yoga pants, her hair falling in damp tendrils around her face.
Marco took one look at her and ended his call. His mouth dried and his heart turned over in his chest. She was utterly delectable, and not just because of her beauty. He liked having her in his space, looking relaxed and comfortable, being part of his world. He liked it a lot.
‘You’ve finished your calls?’ she asked as she came towards him. She curled up on the other end of the long leather sofa, tucking her feet underneath her.
‘For the moment. There are a lot of details to sort out but first I think I want to eat.’ His eyes roved over her hungrily and a blush touched her cheeks. Marco smiled and gestured to the city lights sparkling in every direction. ‘The world is our oyster. What would you like to eat? We can order takeaway. Whatever you want.’
‘How about proper American food? Cheeseburgers and French fries?’
He laughed and pressed a few buttons on his phone. ‘And here I thought you’d be asking for lobster and caviar and champagne. Consider it done.’
* * *
Sierra watched as Marco put in their order for food. She felt jet-lagged and sleepy and relaxed, and she laid her head back against the sofa as Marco tossed his phone on the table and rose in one fluid movement.
‘I’m going to get changed. The food should be here in a few minutes.’
‘Okay.’ It felt incredibly pleasant, no, wonderful, to sit there and listen to him go upstairs. The snick of a door closing, and she could imagine his long, lean fingers unbuttoning his shirt, shrugging it off his broad shoulders. He was the most beautiful man she’d ever seen. She remembered the feel of his body against hers, her breasts crushed against his chest...
A smile curved Sierra’s mouth and she closed her eyes, picturing the scene perfectly. Then she imagined going up those stairs herself, opening that door. What would she say? What would she do? Perhaps she wouldn’t have to do or say anything. Perhaps Marco would see her and take control, draw her towards him and kiss her as she wanted him to.
‘I think the food’s here.’
Sierra’s eyes flew open and she saw Marco standing in front of her, wearing jeans and a faded grey T-shirt that clung to his pecs. His hair was slightly mussed, his jaw shadowed with stubble, and she didn’t think she’d ever seen anything as wonderful, as desirable.
‘You look like you were about to drop off,’ Marco remarked as he took the food from the attendant who stepped out of the lift.
‘I think I was.’ She wasn’t about to admit what had been going through her head. The mouth-watering aroma of cheeseburgers and fries wafted through the room and Marco brought the tray of food to the coffee table in front of the sofa.
‘We might as well eat here.’
He handed her a plate heaped with a huge burger and plenty of fries and Sierra bit in, closing her eyes as the flavours hit her. ‘Oh, this is good.’
Marco made a choked sound and Sierra opened her eyes, her heart seeming to still as his hot gaze held hers. ‘Look like that much longer and I’ll have to forget about this meal,’ he said, his voice a low growl, and awareness shivered through her.
‘It’s too delicious to do that,’ she protested, her voice breathy, and Marco shrugged, his gaze never leaving hers.
‘I can think of something more delicious.’
Colour flooded her face and heated her body. This was so dangerous, and yet...why shouldn’t she? Why shouldn’t they? They were in a glamorous hotel in one of the most amazing cities in the world. There was nothing, absolutely nothing, to keep them from acting on the desire Sierra knew they both felt.
Marco plucked one of her French fries from her plate. ‘Your face is the colour of your ketchup.’
She laughed shakily and put her burger down, wiping her hands on the napkin provided. ‘Marco...’ She trailed off, not knowing what to say or how to say it.
Marco smiled and nodded towards her still full plate. ‘Let’s eat, Sierra. It’s a big day tomorrow.’
That sounded and felt like a brush-off. Trying not to feel stung, Sierra started eating again. Had Marco changed his mind? Why did he say one thing and then do another? Maybe, Sierra reflected, he felt as conflicted as she did. Maybe a fling would be too complicated, considering their history.
Considering her lack of experience, she didn’t even know if she could handle a fling. Would she be able to walk away after a couple of days, heart intact? The truth was, she had no idea.
Marco’s phone rang before they’d finished their meal and he excused himself to take the call. Sierra ate the rest of her burger and then tidied up, leaving the tray of dirty dishes by the lift. She wandered around the living area for a bit, staring out at the glittering cityscape, before jet lag finally overcame her and she headed upstairs to bed. Marco was still closeted in his own bedroom and so, with a sigh of disappointment, Sierra went into hers. Despite her restlessness, sleep claimed her almost instantly.
When she woke the sun was bathing the city in gold and she could hear Marco moving around across the hall.
The ribbon-cutting ceremony was that afternoon, and it occurred to Sierra as she showered and dressed that she really didn’t have the right clothes.
Back in London, her one smart day dress and second-hand ball gown had seemed sufficient but now that she’d been to the hotel, now that she cared about it—and Marco’s success—she realised she didn’t want to stand in front of the crowd looking dowdy or underdressed. She wanted to look her best, not just for Marco and the public but for herself.
She dressed in jeans and a simple summery top and headed downstairs in search of Marco. He was standing by the window, scrolling through messages on his phone and drinking coffee, but he looked up as she came down the stairs, a smile breaking across his face.
‘Good morning.’
‘Good morning.’ Suddenly Sierra felt shy. Marco looked amazing, freshly showered, his crisp blue shirt set off by a darker blue suit and silver tie. His hair was slightly damp, curling around his ears, and his smoothly shaven jaw looked eminently touchable. Kissable.
‘Did you sleep well?’
‘Yes, amazingly. But I wondered if there was time to go out this morning, before the opening.’
‘Go out? Where?’
‘Shopping.’ Sierra flushed. ‘I don’t think the clothes I brought are...well, nice enough, if I’m honest.’ She let out an uncertain laugh. ‘A second-hand ball gown from a charity shop doesn’t seem appropriate, now that I’m here.’
Surprise flashed across Marco’s face before it was replaced by composed determination. ‘Of course. I’ll arrange a car immediately.’
‘I can walk...’
‘Nonsense. It will be my great pleasure to buy clothes for you, Sierra.’ His gaze rested on her, his silvery-grey eyes seeming to burn right through her.
‘You don’t have to buy them, Marco—’
‘You would deny me such a pleasure?’ He slid his phone into his pocket and strode towards her. ‘The car will be waiting. You can have breakfast on the way.’
Within minutes Sierra was whisked from the penthouse suite to the limo waiting outside the hotel; a carafe of coffee, another of freshly squeezed orange juice and a basket of warm croissants were already set out for her.
‘Good