guests to step on to the dance-floor. Savannah and her partner were among the first, moving through the steps with effortless ease.
She looked so—sophisticated, and so very sure of herself. Her features were faintly sultry, and Elise had no doubt that the model knew precisely the effect she was having on her partner.
The question was whether it was having the desired effect on Alejandro.
Elise cast him a surreptitious glance, and was disconcerted to meet his hooded gaze. She offered a tentative smile, afraid he might have deduced the pattern of her thoughts, and she blinked as he reached out and threaded his fingers through her own.
‘Would you like to dance?’
Part of her wanted to quite desperately, for she badly needed the sanctuary of his embrace. The other part recognised the danger of having her body pressed against the hard powerful impact of his own.
With a word of assent she rose to her feet, moved out on to the floor and into his arms.
The music was slow, and her steps matched his in perfect unison. Magic, she mused. Was it possible for one human being to be addicted to another? Held in thrall as if the essence of him were some powerful narcotic?
He diminished every other man in the room, possessing an inherent ruthlessness, honed by experience and enhanced by the degree of his success.
It held a fascination that men recognised and women viewed with the speculative interest of their sex. To some it was an invisible magnet, activated by the excitement of discovering if the man, freed from corporate restraint, was as skilled at lovemaking as he was at adding millions to his investment portfolio.
An immensely sophisticated man, yet there was the hint of an untamed quality, a primitive savagery held rigidly in control.
A faint shiver feathered down her spine with the knowledge that he would be devastatingly heartless as an enemy.
‘Cold?’
His voice was a soft caress against her hair, and she murmured a faint negative.
‘Someone just walked over my grave,’ she offered, with a droll attempt at humour.
‘Savannah?’
She missed a step, and gave an inaudible gasp as he enfolded her close against him. It was a far from conventional hold, and she tilted her head to meet the dark inscrutability apparent in his gaze.
‘You’re too astute for your own good,’ she offered in a strangled voice.
‘Is that a disadvantage?’
She chose not to answer, and when the music changed she moved back a pace and suggested they return to their table.
‘I need to use the powder-room,’ she murmured, aware of the effect of several glasses of water. She caught up her evening bag with the intention of doing a few running repairs to her make-up while there.
‘Do you want me to escort you?’
She directed at him a slow smile of amusement. ‘I’m not a child, Alejandro. What can happen to me?’
What, indeed? she could only query silently several minutes later, when she emerged from a stall to find Savannah examining her make-up in front of the long mirrored wall.
‘Playing to win, darling?’ Savannah queried softly.
‘Every time, Savannah,’ she managed evenly as she took out lipstick and ran colour smoothly over her lips.
‘You’re very…small,’ Savannah opined with a total lack of graciousness. ‘A petite size eight?’
There had to be a purpose to this conversation, and determining her dress size was totally irrelevant, Elise reflected as she recapped the lipstick and turned to face her aggressor.
‘Alejandro is so…’ Savannah trailed off delicately.
‘Well-endowed?’ Elise suggested, deliberately manufacturing a stunningly amused smile. ‘A distinct advantage, wouldn’t you agree?’
Dark brown eyes glittered with dangerous venom as the model released a tinkle of soft laughter. ‘He’s a lusty animal, darling.’ Her gaze focused on Elise’s trim waist. ‘Pregnancy is hardly flattering, especially in the latter stage. I can’t imagine he’ll practise celibacy, no matter how temporary.’
‘And you’ll be there for him to turn to?’
‘Of course, darling.’ She paused, then sharpened the verbal barb for maximum impact. ‘As I have been, and always will be.’
Elise felt sickened, and it took considerable effort to summon a light smile. ‘I really must go back to the table.’ She turned away, only to give an anguished gasp as Savannah caught hold of her injured hand.
‘Don’t underestimate me.’
‘I never have,’ Elise assured steadfastly. ‘Will you please let go of my hand? It’s still quite painful.’
Savannah’s grip momentarily tightened, and her eyes gleamed with a malevolence that changed her features into a hard mask.
For a few shocking seconds Elise thought she wouldn’t be able to cope with the pain, then Savannah flung her hand aside with a pitiless laugh.
‘I’d hate to hurt you unnecessarily.’ Collecting her evening bag, she swept out of the powder-room.
For several minutes Elise was locked into immobility as she tried to control her shaken emotions. Her hand throbbed, aching with an intensity that clouded her eyes and took the colour from her face.
‘Are you all right?’
The light feminine voice held concern, and Elise dredged up a faint smile.
‘You’re very pale. Perhaps you should sit down for a few minutes? Shall I fetch your husband?’
‘No. No,’ she reiterated quickly. ‘I’ll be all right in a few minutes.’
‘My table is next to yours. We’ll walk back together, shall we?’
Elise was supremely conscious of Alejandro’s intent gaze as she resumed her seat. To her relief there was no sign of Savannah or her partner.
‘Would you like more tea?’
She doubted if she would be able to drink it. ‘I’ve had enough, thanks.’ In more ways than one, she added silently.
‘Do you want to go home?’ His voice was quiet, and there was no escaping his penetrating appraisal.
‘Not yet,’ she managed with commendable calm. To leave now would amount to an admission of defeat, and she was damned if she would give Savannah the satisfaction.
Most of the guests were drifting from one table to another, and Elise gave an inward sigh of relief when another couple joined them. The man, a business associate of Alejandro’s, launched into an in-depth discussion with him, while the woman engaged Elise in innocuous conversation.
It was twenty minutes before they left, and Elise cast Alejandro a startled glance as he leaned an arm across the back of her chair.
‘It’s almost eleven. We’ve done our duty. Shall we leave?’
‘If you want to.’
Without a further word he made their excuses, then began leading the way from the ballroom. Several acquaintances sought his attention and, although he paused momentarily to offer a few words in polite response, he didn’t linger.
It was a relief to reach the car, and once inside Elise simply leaned back against the leather-cushioned seat as Alejandro eased the Bentley up to street level and into the steady stream of traffic vacating the city.
Her hand still throbbed, although with less intensity, and the pain had subsided to a deep nagging ache. Bearable, she conceded, but only just.
Music