gleefully, “we come to our last item up for bid. A very special item indeed.”
A spotlight fell on Lia where she stood alone on the marble ballroom floor. A titter rose from the guests, who’d all heard whispers of this open secret. She felt the eager eyes of the men, the envious glares of the women. And she longed more than anything to be back in her cloistered Italian rose garden, far from all this.
Oh, Giovanni, she thought. What have you left me to?
“One man will win the opening dance tonight with our own charming hostess, Countess Villani. The bidding starts at $10,000—”
He’d barely gotten the words out before men started shouting out their bids.
“Ten thousand,” Andrew began.
“I’ll pay twenty,” a pompous old man thundered.
“Twenty-five,” cried a teenage boy, barely out of boarding school.
“Forty thousand dollars for a dance with the countess!” shouted a forty something Wall Street tycoon.
The bidding continued upward in slow increments, and Lia felt her cheeks burn and burn. But the more humiliated she felt, the straighter she stood. This was to earn money for her sister’s park, the only thing she had left in her life that she believed in, and, damn it, she would smile big and dance with the highest bidder, no matter who the man was. She would laugh at his jokes and be charming even if it killed her—
“A million dollars,” a deep voice cut in.
A shocked hush fell over the crowd.
Lia turned with a gasp. The dark stranger!
His eyes burned her.
No, she thought desperately. She’d just barely recovered from being in his arms. She couldn’t be close to him like that again, not when touching him burned through her, body and soul!
The emcee squinted to see who’d made such an outlandish bid. When he saw the man, he gulped. “Okay! That’s the bid to beat! A million dollars! A million, going once …”
Lia cast around a wide, desperate glance at all the men who’d so eagerly been fighting over her the moment before. Wouldn’t any of them meet the offer?
But the men looked crestfallen. Andrew Oppenheimer just clenched his jaw, looking coldly furious. But the last bid before the stranger’s had been a hundred thousand dollars. A hundred thousand to a million was too big a leap, even for the multimillionaires around her.
“A million going twice …”
She gave a pleading smile at the very richest—and very oldest—men. But they glumly shook their heads. Either the price was too high, or … was it possible they were afraid of challenging the stranger?
Who was this man? She’d never seen him before tonight. How was it possible that a man this wealthy could crash her party in New York, and she’d have no idea who he was?
“Sold! The first dance with the countess, for a million dollars. Sir, you may collect your prize.”
The dark eyes of the stranger held her own as he crossed the ballroom. The other men who’d bid for Lia fell silent, fell back, as he passed. Far taller and more broad-shouldered than the others, he wore his dark power like a shadow against his body.
But Lia wouldn’t allow any man to bully her. Whatever she felt on the inside, she wouldn’t show her weakness. He obviously thought she was a gold digger. He thought he could buy her.
You’ll be mine, Countess. You’ll want me as I want you.
She would soon disabuse him of that notion. She lifted her chin as he approached.
“Do not think that you own me,” she said scornfully. “You’ve bought a three-minute dance, nothing more—”
For answer, he swept her up in his strong arms. The force of his touch was so intense and troubling that her sentence ended in a gasp. He looked down at her as he led her onto the dance floor.
“I have you now.” His sensual mouth curved into a smile. “This is just the start.”
CHAPTER THREE
THE orchestra started playing, and a singer in a black sequined dress started singing the classic song of romantic yearning, “At Last.”
Listening to the passionate lyrics of love long awaited and finally found, Lia’s heart hurt in her chest. The handsome stranger spun her out on the dance floor, causing her white mermaid skirt to flare out as she moved. The sensation of his fingers intertwined with her own held her more firmly than chains on her wrists. The electricity of his touch was a hot current that she couldn’t escape, even if she’d wanted to.
He pulled her closer against his body. She felt his muscles move beneath his crisp, elegant tuxedo as his body swayed against hers, leading her in the rhythm. She lost all sense of time amidst the sensuality of his body against hers. He smoothly controlled her movements, and his mastery over her caused a tension of longing to build inside her.
Raising one hand to gently move her dark hair off her shoulders, he leaned down to speak in her ear. She felt the whisper of his breath against her neck, causing prickles to spread up and down her body. The flicker of his lips, the tease of his tongue against her sensitive earlobe, ricocheted down her nerve endings.
“You’re a beautiful woman, Countess.”
She exhaled only when he moved back from her.
“Thank you,” she managed. She raised her chin, desperately trying to hide the feelings he was creating in her. “And thank you for your million-dollar donation to the park. Children all over the city will be—”
“I don’t give a damn about them,” he said, cutting her off. His dark eyes sizzled through hers. “I did it for you.”
“For me?” she whispered, feeling her whole body go off-kilter again, growing dizzy as he moved her across the dance floor.
“A million dollars is nothing.” He gave a sudden searching look. “I would pay far more than that to get what I want.”
“And what do you want?”
“Right now?” He pulled her close, holding her hand entwined with his larger one against his chest. “You, Lia.”
Lia.
No man had called her by her first name like that. Acquaintances called her Countess. Giovanni had called her by her full name, Amelia.
Hearing her dance partner’s lips caress her name as his hands caressed her body caused a shiver to scatter her soul.
But the heat in his dark eyes was steady. Controlled. As if the overwhelming desire that was ripping her self-control to shreds was nothing more than of passing interest to him. A momentary pleasure in his life that was full of pleasures—like a single sip of champagne, hardly to be noticed in the endless crystal flutes.
But it was new to Lia. It made her knees weak. Made her dizzy, filling her with longing and fear.
He held her tightly, swaying in time to the scorching passion of the song. Lia was dimly aware of all New York society watching them. She could feel the stares, hear the first whispers at the impropriety of this dance. Holding her as he was, without even a sliver of space between them, he held her like a lover.
As if no one in the world mattered to him but her.
She knew she should push him away. She was, after all, a new widow. Allowing him to hold her like this not only disgraced Giovanni’s memory, it caused injury to her reputation. And yet his powerful control over her senses caused her body to betray her mind’s commands.
She tried to put some distance between them.
She could not.
She