The Italian’s Ruthless Marriage Command

CHAPTER TWO

SHOCK dilated Taylor’s eyes, and she felt the blood drain from her face.

‘You can’t do that,’ she managed shakily. ‘Such an action would contravene Leon and Casey’s will.’

Dante’s features held a compelling quality, and a chill shiver feathered the length of her spine.

‘Leon’s lawyer is witness to you declining each solution I presented.’ His voice held a silky softness that was totally lacking in arrogance, yet there was a dangerous quality evident beneath the surface. ‘Unless you choose to reverse your decision, you leave me little option but to take the matter to court.’

She didn’t trust herself to speak. At the very least she wanted to hit him, and if a mere look could kill he’d be dead.

‘Such a move would involve time and a large amount of money,’ Dante enlightened smoothly.

She owned her apartment, her car, and was debt-free, thanks to the popularity of her work. But when it came to wealth, Dante d’Alessandri won hands down.

‘Do you particularly want to go that route?’ he pursued silkily. ‘Subject Ben to unwarranted stress and trauma? Fund exhaustive legal fees?’ He waited a beat. ‘What will it achieve, other than an exercise in futility?’

‘Except at the end of the day you win.’ She attempted to keep the faint bitterness out of her voice, and was unsure she succeeded.

His eyes remained steady, inviolate. ‘This is about Ben,’ he reminded quietly. ‘And what’s best for him.’

It didn’t help that he was right. Or that she viewed his threatened alternative of adoption as totally unconscionable.

There was no way she’d allow that to happen, although she refused to give in easily without protest.

The waiter delivered their meal, and Taylor looked at the salad, contemplated her plate and wondered if she’d be able to eat so much as a morsel.

‘I don’t want to share a house with you.’ And if you comment I’m the first woman to say that, I’ll hit you.

He looked at her carefully, caught the fast-beating pulse at the base of her throat, and his eyes narrowed fractionally.

‘There’s a boyfriend on the scene who will object?’

A fleeting darkness clouded her eyes, then it was gone. ‘No.’ Betrayed trust ensured true friends were limited to a few, and acquaintances kept at a distance.

Interpreting body language and subtle nuances in the human voice was an art in which he excelled…an invaluable asset in the cut and thrust of international business dealings.

It took, Dante mused, an accomplished actress trained to submerge her own personality in order to assume that of the character she was contracted to play.

And somehow he doubted Taylor was playing a part. Yet he’d stake his reputation on there being something responsible for her chosen façade…even allowing for recent grief, and Ben’s welfare.

‘And you, Dante? Won’t your current mistress protest at your proposed live-in arrangement with another woman?’

‘No.’

Just…no?

‘Eat,’ Dante bade and he began doing justice to the food on his plate.

The salad looked delicious…although her nerves were stretched too taut to appreciate the taste of food.

She declined dessert and settled for coffee, sweet, black and strong, aware it was also Dante’s choice, and when the waiter presented the bill she reached for her wallet…only to have Dante refuse her offer to pay her share.

‘There’s enough time to check out the house before we collect Ben.’

House? We? ‘I don’t think—’

‘We have an hour and a half,’ he enlightened as he ushered her out onto the pavement. All it took was a brief conversation via his mobile phone, and within minutes a black Mercedes slid in to the kerb.

Dante opened a door, ushered her into the rear seat, then he crossed round the vehicle and slipped in beside her, introduced his driver, Gianni, with friendly ease. Given Dante’s reputed ruthlessness in the business arena, she assumed he’d appear businesslike with his staff, and she sat in silence as he issued instructions to an address in Watson’s Bay, one of Sydney’s luxurious suburbs offering widespread panoramic harbour views.

House was a misnomer. Mansion seemed a more adequate description, Taylor conceded as the Mercedes swept through high, ornate remotely operated steel gates, circled a wide driveway and eased to a halt beneath a wide porte-cochère protecting broad double entrance doors of steel-strutted solid patterned wood.

Double-storeyed, the building resembled a Tuscan villa, with a cream and terra-cotta tiled roof, cream stucco exterior walls and, she saw when she entered the large lobby, cream marble floor tiles, beautiful rugs and solid mahogany furniture.

A middle-aged woman came forward to greet them. Dante introduced her as Anna, whose husband, Claude, maintained the grounds.

There were oil paintings gracing the walls, an elegant, sweeping double staircase, and a sparkling crystal chandelier hung suspended from a tall ceiling.

Taylor was supremely conscious of Dante’s close proximity as he showed her through the house.

The subtle tones of his cologne teased her senses, and, although he made no attempt at physical contact, she disliked the prickle of awareness stealing through her body.

She covered it well, making appropriate comments as they moved through the ground-level rooms, all of which were spacious, beautifully furnished, before moving to the upper level, which did, as Dante had indicated, contain two distinct wings, each containing guest suites with adjoining en suites. There was also a media room, a family lounge and two home offices.

It was, Taylor had to concede, a beautiful home, complemented by landscaped grounds, a large swimming pool with entry from the side of the house and completely enclosed with a solar-tinted glass roof and glass-panelled external walls.

There was no valid reason why Dante’s suggested living arrangement couldn’t work…with certain iron-clad provisos.

‘Any reservations you’d care to voice?’ Dante queried as they began descending the staircase, and she met his dark, probing look with equanimity.

‘A few.’

‘Then let’s hear them.’

She paused on one step and turned towards him, aware he copied her action.

‘I want to make it very clear Ben is the only reason I’ll accept your suggestion.’

‘So noted.’

‘The live-in arrangement is strictly business,’ she offered, and lifted a hand to cover the tell-tale thud at the base of her throat, ‘with all that statement implies.’

Dante looked at her for a long moment, aware she held his gaze with determined resolve, almost silently daring him to be the first to glance away.

Yet beneath the resolve he sensed unaccustomed wariness and a degree of fragility. Coupled with innate reserve, it was an interesting mix.

‘You have nothing to fear from me,’ he drawled, and saw a delicate pink tinge her cheeks an instant before she turned away and began stepping quickly down the stairs.

Dante checked his watch, alerted Gianni, then he followed Taylor down into the lobby and led the way to the waiting Mercedes.

It was a relatively trouble-free run from Vaucluse to Double Bay, and Dante turned slightly towards her as the car slid into a parking bay adjacent the kindergarten. ‘I’ll come with you.’

She could hardly refuse without sounding churlish, and she managed a polite response. ‘Ben will be pleased to see you.’

Dante’s presence drew attention as they crossed towards the kindergarten entrance, his tall, broad, impeccably tailored frame a stand-out from the few males gathered waiting to collect children.

Within minutes the outer door opened, and a carer took up position to ensure each child was collected by their designated parent or grandparent.

Taylor effected an introduction, drew attention to the fact she’d previously noted Dante as Ben’s legal guardian, whereupon relevant details were checked on the call-sheet, together with Dante’s mobile-phone number.

‘Please alter the residential address,’ Dante informed, and gave it. ‘Effective from today,’ he added smoothly.

Excuse me?

‘Isn’t this a little precipitate?’ she said quietly as they moved aside, and incurred his dark gaze.

‘There’s no reason to delay settling Ben into his new home.’

Taylor sent him a spearing look. ‘Tomorrow,’ she stated firmly. ‘It will allow him to become accustomed to the idea.’

Minutes later Ben was summoned by the carer, whereupon he moved quickly to the entrance, leant into her hug, then a smile broadened his mouth as he caught sight of Dante.

Without a word he raised his arms as Dante lifted him high against his chest and held him close.

‘Hello, Ben.’

‘Zio. You came. Taylor said you would.’ Ben looked at him solemnly. ‘Are you going to stay?’

‘Yes. Most of the time,’ Dante assured as he crossed the parking area.

‘Cool.’

One word, conveying much, and Taylor felt her heart melt a little…as it had so often these past few weeks, when all she wanted to do was hug him close and will back his laughter and joy of life.

Time. It will just take time, she assured silently as they reached the Mercedes, and she frowned with sudden anxiety. ‘Ben’s booster seat is in my car.’

Dante spared her a glance. ‘I had Gianni organise one this morning.’ He opened the rear door, saw Ben safely buckled in as she slid in beside her nephew, while Dante took the adjacent seat.

She knew she should credit Dante with forethought, but he was moving too fast, taking control…doubtless a power trait he’d skilfully honed as head of the d’Alessandri corporation.

Laudable, but Ben wasn’t a corporate commodity, and she intended to relay her viewpoint at the soonest possible moment.

A strange prickling sensation at the back of her neck caused her to spare a glance in Dante’s direction, and the breath stopped in her throat as she met his musing gaze.

He couldn’t possibly know what she was thinking, surely? Oh, for heaven’s sake…it hardly mattered if he did.

Taylor offered Gianni directions to her apartment, and she felt a sense of relief when the car slid to a halt at the kerb outside what had once been a stately double-storeyed villa which developers had converted into four apartments.

‘Thanks for lunch,’ she acknowledged quietly as Dante withdrew Ben and set him onto his feet on the pavement.

Ben’s hand curled into his uncle’s much larger one as he looked up at her. ‘Can Zio come up and see my bike?’

How could she refuse? ‘Of course. If he’d like to.’ She almost qualified it with ‘if he isn’t too busy’, and stilled the words before they could find voice.

Did Dante sense her reluctance? Perhaps, although she told herself his thought process was of little interest.

Her apartment was one of two situated on the upper floor, reached by a wide central staircase, and she unlocked the door, disarmed the alarm system, then indicated the hallway. ‘Would you like coffee?’

‘Thanks, that would be nice.’ He smiled down at Ben’s anxious features. ‘Let’s go see your bike, shall we?’

The apartment was relatively spacious and pleasantly furnished. Two bedrooms, two bathrooms, the usual utilities. Feminine, but functional, he noted as Ben led him into a room where floor-to-ceiling bookcases lined two walls. A home office, sans a desk, computer or the usual electronic equipment.

Instead stuffed toys lined the bed, and there were several toy cars and trucks neatly parked together on the floor. A few childish prints were attached to the wall above the bed, together with an enlarged framed photo taken in happier times featuring Casey, Leon, Ben as a young babe and Taylor.

Dante’s gaze lingered, settled briefly on Taylor’s features, noting her happy smile, the laughing eyes…as if she hadn’t a care in the world.

‘This is my bike.’

Dante hunkered down and ran a careful hand over the gleaming paint, the seat, and commented on its racy three-wheeler design.

‘Daddy bought it for me, before—’ He paused, bit his lip, then reiterated with extreme care, ‘Before.’

Dante suddenly felt a fierce need to draw Ben close and assure him everything would be fine. Instead, he rubbed a gentle palm over Ben’s shoulder, kept it there for a moment, then offered warmly, ‘Maybe we can take it to a park one day soon and you can show me how well you can ride.’

Dark brown eyes regarded him solemnly. ‘Can Taylor come too?’

‘Of course.’

A tentative smile widened his mouth. ‘Are you going to stay with us?’

‘Would you like that?’

‘You can have my bed.’

Such an earnest offer, and one that pulled at something deep within. This was Leon’s son, his godson. A child who needed every reassurance he was safe, secure and loved.

‘That’s very kind,’ Dante said gently. ‘Perhaps we should run it by Taylor?’ It would allow her the opportunity to reveal their imminent move to Watson’s Bay.

Which it did, and he silently applauded her explanation, added his own together with the benefits of sharing a larger residence.

They kept it simple, logical…and received Ben’s slow nod of acceptance, pursued by a worried frown. ‘Will I still go to the same kindergarten?’

In a time of complete change, it was important to retain a constant. ‘Yes.’ Dante’s assurance echoed that of Taylor’s, and Ben’s expression cleared.

‘And can Sooty come, too?’

Dante raised an eyebrow in silent query, and Taylor quickly explained, ‘Sooty is a cat.’

‘Of course.’

Taylor opted for informality, choosing to serve coffee at the dining-room table, where Ben sat enjoying his glass of milk and afternoon snack.

Dante’s presence had an unsettling effect…one she endeavoured to overcome as she focused on Ben, waiting for the moment Dante would leave.

Except he seemed in no hurry, and she felt her nerves stretch increasingly taut.

Almost as if he knew, he made a play of checking his watch. ‘If you’ll excuse me?’

She caught the faint gleam of amusement as he rose to his feet, and for a brief moment her eyes flared in silent response as he placed a hand on Ben’s shoulder.

‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’

‘And Taylor.’

Dante’s smile held affection. ‘Yes. Taylor, too.’

It wasn’t difficult to summon a degree of warmth as she preceded him to the door, and she determinedly held his gaze for the few seemingly long seconds before he passed into the small lobby and descended the stairs to the main entrance.

There was a sense of relief as she secured the lock, then she summoned Ben for his routine of bath followed by dinner. Then she read him a bedtime story…extended by a host of inevitable questions which she managed to answer with the assurance he needed.

It was only later as Ben slept that she contemplated her own need for reassurance.

As from tomorrow she’d be living with an inimitable man and, despite the large house, there would be far more togetherness than she felt comfortable with.

So get used to it.

At least on one issue they each stood firm…taking care of Ben. That had to be a good thing.

Dante made it sound so…simple. A large mansion, separate living wings, he’d be overseas more often than he’d be at home.

Why, they’d probably rarely see each other!

CHAPTER THREE

ATTENDING to the packing of both Ben’s and her own belongings involved more than simply transferring a number of boxes in one car. She needed her reference and research books for her current work in progress, laptop, printer, fax, as well as several notebooks, disks.

Then there were personal items, such as her and Ben’s clothing. It was just as well Dante had offered Claude’s services and a four-wheel drive, for it took three trips before Taylor closed up and secured her apartment, then followed Claude in her Lexus.

It was way too late to have second thoughts as she entered Dante’s mansion and attempted to accept this was now her home for the foreseeable future.

The home itself didn’t faze her…but its owner did. A telling admission, and one she tried hard to dismiss. Without success.

For the umpteenth time she wondered at her sanity, only to once again temporarily banish her reservations by reaffirming the sharing of Dante’s home was the best option for Ben.

And the best for Ben was what Casey would have wanted.

Taylor offered Claude a genuine smile and thanked him for his help as she followed him upstairs, where Anna, bless her, had supervised the boxes into each guest suite.

Together they completed Ben’s suite, involving him in the process by suggesting he display his toys, before setting up her home office. Lastly, her own suite, which she assured she’d tend to herself.

All told, the moving and unpacking process took most of the day, and there was time for a quick shower, a change of clothes before she readied Ben for dinner.

Please let it just be the two of us, Taylor bade silently as she took Ben’s hand and they made their way downstairs to the dining room. The thought of sharing a meal and conversation with Dante accelerated her nervous tension a few levels, and she offered up a silent appeal to the deity both she and Ben might eat alone.

Except the appeal went unanswered, for Dante was there as they entered the room, standing tall, without his usual attire of jacket and tie, his shirtsleeves rolled to halfway on his forearms, an easy smile softening the hard planes of his face as he moved forward with the grace of a jungle cat.

‘I believe you’ve settled in?’ The query was directed to include both of them, and Taylor inclined her head, while Ben offered solemnly,

‘We put all my toys out. And Taylor’s room is close to mine. Sooty has her bed and kitty litter in my bathroom.’

She watched as Dante lifted Ben and rested him into the crook of his arm.

‘Sooty stays with me at night.’ Ben spared Dante an anxious look. ‘Taylor lets her sleep on my bed.’

Please don’t say no, Taylor begged silently.

‘I used to have a cat who slept on my bed when I was young,’ Dante confided, and Ben’s eyes widened.

‘You did? What colour was your cat? Sooty’s black. She has a white patch on her nose.’

‘I had Baci, a tortoiseshell.’

‘Baci means kisses,’ Ben relayed importantly, and Dante smiled in acknowledgment.

‘Yes, it does.’

An innocuous remark, Taylor conceded…so why did it suddenly send awareness spiralling through her body?

Because she was tired, fraught and feeling way out of her depth. Why, she agonised silently, when she had nothing to fear from the man whose home she occupied?

A good night’s sleep was all she needed. A day or two to accept concrete evidence of her new reality.

At that moment Anna appeared bearing a tray containing a steaming casserole and a dish of rice, together with a platter of assorted vegetables.

Taylor took the chair Dante indicated and seated Ben next to her, while he took the chair opposite.

Did he sense her nervousness? She hoped not. Yet she found it impossible to relax, and she ate mechanically. At the end of the meal she selected fresh fruit in lieu of dessert, and requested tea instead of coffee.

In a way it was a relief when the meal concluded, and Ben provided the perfect reason to escape.

‘Can I please go upstairs and check Sooty? I think she might be lonely.’

‘Of course. I’ll come with you,’ Taylor said quickly, and caught the faint amusement evident in Dante’s dark gaze.

‘Perhaps we could go together,’ he suggested. ‘You can show me your toys.’

Ben didn’t hesitate, and for the ensuing hour man and boy communed on the merits of almost every wheeled vehicle currently on offer…including planes, trains and automobiles. For so young a boy, Ben could reel off a number of brand names…his favourite being a red Ferrari. Something he fervently hoped to own one day. Together with a motorbike.

Every boy’s dream, and he happily didn’t protest when she declared it was time for bed.

‘Taylor reads me a story every night.’ He looked at his uncle. ‘Will you stay and read me one, too? Please, Zio Dante.’

‘Of course, if you’d like me to.’

Something Dante appeared only too willing to do…whenever he was home, she added silently, which hopefully wouldn’t be too often.

A prediction which didn’t hold true, for he shared breakfast with them the next morning, and sat down to dinner each evening. Ben’s bedtime story became a nightly event, and Friday evening Dante added to Ben’s wish-list by suggesting they visit a dog breeder at the weekend in order to choose a puppy.

Not, praise heaven, Taylor begged silently, something with the potential to grow too big.

‘A Llasa Apso,’ Dante revealed, sparing her a musing glance.

Did he read minds? Or were her thoughts merely too easy to interpret?

‘They’re a small breed, and in this instance they’re already trained.’ He reached into his shirt pocket, withdrew a folded coloured print and showed it to Ben. ‘What do you think?’

Taylor saw Ben’s expression change into instant love, and the look he cast Dante held a degree of reverent awe. ‘Can I really have one?’

‘Yes, and we can bring it home.’

‘You’re the best.’ Ben’s eyes shone as he lifted his arms and gave Dante a hug. ‘Thank you.’

Dante returned the embrace and brushed his lips to his nephew’s forehead. ‘Time to go to sleep, hmm? Tomorrow will be a big day.’

Dante stood aside as Taylor tucked in the covers and kissed Ben goodnight before preceding Dante from the room.

‘That’s kind of you,’ she said quietly. ‘Leon had promised Ben a puppy for his birthday.’

He indicated the stairs and they began descending to the lower floor.

‘You think I’m attempting to buy Ben’s affection?’

She shot him a startled look. ‘A puppy is a perfect gift. Casey didn’t feel Ben should grow up thinking he could have anything he wants.’

He indicated the library, followed her in, then gestured towards a comfortable leather chair.

‘I fly out to New York on Monday for a few days, possibly longer,’ he revealed as he crossed to lean a hip against the antique desk. ‘You can contact me via my cellphone. You have the number.’

‘I’m sure it won’t be necessary.’

No, it probably wouldn’t. She was efficient, capable and considered Ben her main priority.

He slanted an eyebrow and his mouth curved in to form a light smile. ‘You could always call and say hello.’

‘I wouldn’t think of disturbing you.’

Did she have any idea the pulse at the base of her throat quickened in beat whenever she was in his presence?

Her controlled persona was a façade…and he wondered what lay beneath it.

He’d given her no reason to be wary of him, yet she wasn’t comfortable…and he was sufficiently intrigued to discover why.

In time.

‘I’ll set up a computer here, with a web-cam. It’ll enable Ben to have daily visual contact with me.’

He had the sudden urge to ruffle her composure, see those beautiful eyes dilate and watch the pulse at the base of her throat thud into a quickened beat.

Her reaction intrigued him…as she did. So outwardly practical. Laudable, but it was what lay beneath that held his interest. Had done so for quite some time. Yet distance and the pressure of business worked against him. Now, given unforeseen circumstance, he had all the time in the world.

‘If that’s all you wanted,’ Taylor offered as she rose to her feet, ‘I’ll say goodnight…and thank you.’

His eyes became faintly hooded, and a slow smile curved his generous mouth. ‘Thank me for what, precisely?’

‘Making the effort to ensure the transition is as easy as possible for Ben.’

He inclined his head. ‘And you, Taylor?’ he pursued softly. ‘Has the transition into my home, my life, been easy for you?’

No. She wanted to say he had to know that, for it disturbed her how well he appeared to read her.

‘I’m sure the arrangement will work out well,’ she concurred politely. With that, she moved to the door, opened it and escaped into the wide hallway, uncaring whether Dante followed or not.

The acquisition of a puppy proved a huge success, together with kennel, puppy toys, bowls and various trappings a well-cared-for puppy should have. Rosie, for the Llasa Apso Ben chose was female, lapped up all the loving attention Ben offered, and returned it in kind. Dante’s absence in New York provided Taylor with a welcome break from his presence, although his image was there every evening at a prearranged time via the computer webcam as he chatted to Ben.

Taylor was careful to keep her conversation to a minimum, offering a polite greeting on connection, followed by an equally polite ‘goodnight’ prior to deactivating the web-cam.

Did he guess at her apparent reluctance to participate in more than a perfunctory sentence or two? Undoubtedly. For she glimpsed the slight curve at the edge of his mouth, the faint musing gleam in his dark eyes.

It was Ben who relayed a birthday invitation for Sunday.

‘My friend Tamryn is having a party because she is going to be four. Taylor is taking me, and I wondered if you could come, too. Please, Zio. Will you be home in time?’

‘I’ll do my best,’ Dante assured. ‘Taylor can give me the details tomorrow evening.’

‘Cool.’

Sunday provided sunshine and crisp temperatures, and Ben’s excitement was engaging as the time to leave for the party drew close.

‘Everyone from kindy is going to be at Tamryn’s house.’

Taylor dropped a kiss on the top of his head. ‘You’ll have lots of fun.’

His eyes shone with anticipation. ‘Tamryn says there’s going to be a clown, and rides, and a huge big rubber house to play in.’ He barely paused for breath. ‘Can we go now?’

‘Sure we can.’ She picked up the brightly wrapped present with its fun card. ‘Shall we say goodbye to Anna first?’

‘And Claude,’ Ben added. ‘He’s in the garden.’

It didn’t take long, and the adherence to good manners brought forth a smile as both Anna and her husband bade Ben goodbye and hoped he enjoyed the party.

The invitation stated two o’clock, and Taylor drew the car into the kerb outside a large, stately home in suburban Woollahra.

A security guard manned the gate, checking invitations as guests arrived and offering directions to the rear of the grounds, where the party was set up.

‘There’s Tamryn.’

Taylor felt the sudden tightening of Ben’s hand within her own, and she gave his a reassuring squeeze as they drew close to a group of excited children all dressed in their finest, and mingling parents.

‘You’re going to stay, aren’t you?’

‘Hey,’ she chided gently, ‘you think I’m going to miss out on all the fun?’

And it was fun; the professional planning ensured there was spontaneity in the children’s games, with thirty-odd pre-schoolers enjoying the time of their lives. Any minor squabble was intercepted, the perpetrator distracted, and eventually it was time for food, drink…and most importantly, the cake.

It was easy to smile, to laugh a little at so many small faces glowing with anticipation as four candles were ceremoniously lit.

A sudden prickle of awareness slid up Taylor’s spine and settled at her nape…an instinctive alert she endeavoured to ignore without much success.

She shifted her gaze slightly and caught sight of the tall, broad-shouldered male figure crossing the grounds towards the host, hostess and their grouped guests.

Dante. Attired in dark tailored trousers, a white shirt open at the neck, worn with a black butter-soft leather jacket.

It wasn’t so much his attire that drew attention but the man himself, for there was an intrinsic quality she chose not to define…just aware of an instinctive need to build her defensive barriers high in self-protection.

Survival…her own. Against a man whose sensual potency threatened to wreck her equilibrium. Something she vowed no man would ever be permitted to do again.

Why now, when she’d reached a relatively relaxed state of mind? Settled, she added silently, into a life of relative contentment.

Yet in one fatal second her world had changed, flung into an orbit she struggled to control.

Not Ben…never Ben.

Dante.

A man who disturbed her more than she was prepared to admit. Had from the moment she first saw him. Friendly, warm…with a reputation for preferring sophisticated women who knew the score.

It wasn’t her nature to flirt. Nor did she favour casual sex, possibly because there had been no one for whom she’d been tempted to discard her moral beliefs.

Besides, Dante resided abroad and travelled the world. Any liaison with such a man could only be destined for heartbreak…and she was fiercely determined it wouldn’t be hers.

Later she had reason to enforce that decision a hundredfold.

Yet now he was in her life, occupying her mind, infiltrating her senses, and she struggled against it…wanting only the tranquil life that had once been her own.

‘Taylor.’

She turned slightly and tilted her face a little to meet his easy smile. He had the advantage of height, marked by her choice of flat shoes for the afternoon.

‘Hi.’

There was strength apparent beneath the casual elegance of his clothes. A compelling quality that stood him apart from other men. Power, she determined, and an innate sense of control. Mesh it with latent sexuality, and the result drew women’s attention like bees to a honeypot.

Hadn’t she witnessed evidence of it at every opportunity?

‘Ben will be pleased you managed to make it.’

The sparkling laughter he’d glimpsed had faded, replaced by polite friendliness…and he resisted the temptation to cup her cheek, smooth a thumb over her lips, feel them tremble a little beneath his touch.

Almost as if she sensed his intention, her body stiffened, and the edge of his mouth lifted a little with the knowledge she was aware of the electric tension existing between them.