Irresistible Temptation(17)

       

He'd be doing her a favour, after all, because he couldn't see any  future for her with Jeremy, even if Maria gave up the struggle and  divorced him.

And he wouldn't do any lasting damage, he told himself defensively as he stripped off his clothes.

All the same, a persistent image of her-the vulnerable slant of her neck  and shoulders as she'd sat in front of that damned computer-kept coming  into his mind. Haunting him, he realised without pleasure.

And as he turned the shower jet on full he knew it would be a long time before he felt clean again.



Fool. Raving idiot Crazy woman, Olivia apostrophised herself as she carefully applied a coating of mascara to her lashes.

She still couldn't believe she was actually doing this- dressing to go  out to dinner with Declan Malone. It must have been shock, she decided,  as she replaced the mascara wand in its tube. Because she'd never really  thought he'd agree to stop hassling her about Jeremy. Nor could she  fathom why he'd given up so easily.

Yes, she'd located a missing file, but that could hardly account for  such an extravagant show of gratitude. Particularly when, only a few  hours ago, he'd given the impression he wanted to wring her neck.

Ah, well, she shrugged. Mine not to reason why. And it's a meal, after all.

It was also better than sitting around hoping Jeremy would call, but she wasn't going to think about that now.

She stood back, examining herself in the mirror, adjusting the fit of  her black dress over her hips. It was one of her favourites, sleeveless  and square-necked, cut straight and slim to mid-calf, and fastened all  the way down the front by large mother-of-pearl buttons. Over it she was  wearing a grey linen hip-length jacket.

Fashionably drab, she thought critically, adding a soft pink lustre to her lips.

Declan's brisk knock at the door was punctual to the second.

For a moment she was tempted not to answer. To hide in the kitchen till  he'd gone. But common sense told her that he'd only go and get a key  from Sasha, and she'd no wish to suffer the humiliation of being  discovered cringing in a corner.

So, she pinned on a resolute smile and threw open the door. 'Good evening.'

'Good evening yourself.' Declan handed her the flowers he was  carrying-twelve pink roses, wrapped in Cellophane and decorated with  trailing ribbons. 'A small peace offering,' he murmured. To ensure the  armistice holds.'

'Oh.' To her annoyance, Olivia realised she was blushing. She ducked her  head swiftly, inhaling the sweet, subtle fragrance. 'Thank you. I-I'll  put them in water.'

'The florist said to fill the sink and give them a good soaking.' He came in, closing the door behind him. 'Arrange them later.'

He seemed very relaxed, and completely at home, she thought with slight vexation, as she dashed to the kitchen.

He was no taller than Jeremy, and certainly not as heavily built, yet his presence diminished the room, somehow-overpowered it.

He was wearing dark grey pants and a pale blue shirt, open at the neck,  the sleeves turned casually back over his forearms, and he carried a  thin tweed jacket slung over one shoulder. Under the overhead light, his  dark hair gleamed like living silk.

Olivia took in these details with one swift look as she came back, and felt something clench painfully inside her.

'I thought we'd go to an Italian place I know,' Declan said, ushering  her up the outside steps. 'Do you like Italian food? Because if not … '

'No, I love it,' she assured him.

He lifted a hand, and a cruising cab glided respectfully to a halt beside them.

'Heavens,' Olivia said. 'Is life always as easy as that for you?'

'No.' Declan opened the taxi door for her to get in. 'I had to ask you three times to have dinner-remember?

She sat down as far into the corner as she could get, smoothing her  skirt decorously over her knees as he took his place beside her.

She said, 'I didn't think you meant it.'

'You saved my life today. Was I supposed to take it for granted?'

'I didn't do that much,' she said awkwardly. The technician would have done as well.'

'When he showed up,' he agreed. 'But you were in place, and you stepped in.'

He paused. 'And I gave you a hard time too. It was particularly dumb of  me not to have backed up the disk, and I didn't like being reminded of  my own stupidity. I'm sorry.'

'Gratitude one minute-apologies another.' Olivia shook her head in mock wonder. 'What next, I ask myself?'

He said slowly, 'I'd say-whatever we both happen to want.'

The words seemed to hang in the air between them. Startled, Olivia  risked a swift sideways glance, but he was leaning back in his own  corner, his face in shadow so that she couldn't see his expression.

But he seemed to be implying that a greater intimacy might be forged between them, and that was ridiculous. Impossible.

When he spoke again, his voice was casually friendly again, so maybe she  was being over-imaginative. 'The guy who owns this restaurant is from  Venice. Have you ever been there?'                       
       
           



       

'Once. A schoolfriend and I went for a weekend city break. Our parents  arranged it as a reward for passing our A levels.' She laughed. 'That  was a long time ago.'

'Maybe it's time you paid another visit.'

'Yes, I should.' It would make a wonderful place for a honeymoon, she thought, with sudden dreaminess.

'But a rather more romantic one, perhaps,' he added silk, as if he'd picked up what she was thinking.

Olivia bit her lip. Memo to self: Stop being so transparent, she  muttered silently. You're dealing with an expert on mind-probing here.

The restaurant was tucked away in a side-street It consisted of several  inter-connected rooms with tiled floors, lamplit tables covered in crisp  white linen and lots of green plants in wall brackets. The proprietor's  wife greeted them with smiling warmth, before conducting them to a  secluded table for two.

There were a number of people already seated, and Olivia was  uncomfortably aware of a stir of interest as they passed and Declan was  recognised.

She could tell by the reactions of the women that their stares and  whispered comments weren't purely on the grounds of his celebrity  status, but because he was a dynamically attractive man. Sexual charisma  by the cartload.

She felt conscious, as she registered the curious looks that came her  way too, that she was wearing a department store dress and jacket rather  than a designer outfit.

I don't fit the image at all, she thought with a mental shrug. But,  after all, it's only for one evening. It's not as if I'll be seeing him  again …  And paused right there as something dangerously like a flicker of  regret came and went in her head.

She was glad to sit down and bury her rather flushed face in the menu.

'Any particular likes or dislikes?' Declan smiled at her.

'Not really.' Her nose was twitching at the aroma of garlic, wine and  herbs hanging evocatively in the air. 'I've just realised I'm starving,'  she confessed.

'You mean you're not on some diet which cuts out all that makes life  worth living?' Declan raised his brows in mock astonishment. 'My God,  this promises to be a night to remember. Shall we go for it?

'Why not?' She returned his grin with a touch of uncertainty. The  temptation to relax-go with the flow-was almost overwhelming. Almost.  Yet a warning voice was whispering in her ear, Take care.

They made their choice, and a bottle of ice-cold Frascati was brought to the table together with some mineral water.

'So,' Declan said when the waiter had withdrawn, 'what shall we drink to?

'Happiness?' Olivia suggested with a hint of challenge.

'Happiness,' he echoed mockingly. 'Whatever form it takes,' he added, touching his glass to hers.

Olivia wasn't sure that was what she'd meant at all, but decided not to  contest the point. At least, not on an empty stomach, she thought, as  the crisp wine caressed her throat.

'And are you happy?' he asked. 'In London, I mean?' he went on, as Olivia gave him a sharp look.

'I expect I'll get used to it in time. Although I haven't really seen much of it yet.'

'People who live here rarely do,' he said. 'They seem to stick very much to their own communities.'

Olivia shook her head. 'That won't do for me. I want to go  everywhere-Buckingham Palace, Madame Tussaud's, the Zoo, the Tower-' She  broke off, grimacing. 'I suppose that's very uncool.'

'And incredibly refreshing.' There was an odd note in his voice, and he  was frowning slightly. He paused. 'Tell me, how do you come to know so  much about computers?'

'That was my job in Bristol. I did on-site training in offices-one to  one and in groups. You have to come up with the answers pretty quickly  in that situation.'

'I see.' His frown deepened. 'And now you find yourself temping?'

'Yes.' Olivia lifted her chin. 'Is there something wrong with that?'

'You tell me.' He passed her the dish of black olives which had been  placed on the table with a basket of bread. 'It seems to me you gave up a  hell of a lot to come here.'

'Clearly I thought it was worth it' She gave him a level look.

'Indeed.' There seemed to be a sardonic twist to his mouth, or was it  just a trick of the light? She couldn't be sure. 'I hope you continue to  think so.'