The Ultimate Playboy(64)

                ‘Are you quite finished?’ he grated out, his face a mask of taut control.

                She gripped the counter until her knuckles whitened and she stared down at her dress. ‘As a matter of fact, I’m not. Thank you for buying the clothes. If I appeared unappreciative before it was because I’ve learnt that nothing comes for free.’

                ‘You’re welcome,’ he replied coolly. ‘Now am I allowed to respond to that diatribe?’

                ‘No. I have to check on the chicken parmagiana. The last thing I want to do is jeopardise my chances by serving you burnt food.’ She rounded the bar and walked past him.

                He grasped her wrist, easily imprisoning her.

                Instantly, heat and electricity flooded through her. ‘Let me go!’

                ‘I haven’t been blowing hot and cold.’

                ‘You’ve certainly made avoiding me an art form.’

                ‘I was trying to save us both from making a mistake, tesoro.’

                The realisation that she didn’t want that choice made for her sent a bolt of shock through her. Sheer self-preservation made her raise her chin. ‘Well, you needn’t have bothered. In fact you did me a favour back on your plane.’

                His hand tightened. ‘Really?’

                ‘Yes. You reminded me that you’re not my type.’

                His nostrils flared. ‘And how would you know what your type is considering your lack of experience?’

                ‘I don’t need experience to know playboys turn me off.’

                His mouth flattened. ‘You didn’t seem turned off when you climaxed on top of me, then proceeded to writhe beneath me.’

                The reminder made her pulse skitter. The hungry demand that hadn’t abated since then made her pull harder. He set her free and she retreated fast. ‘Maybe I wanted to see what the fuss was all about. Whatever. You helped me refocus on the reason I’m here on your boat. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to check on the main course.’

                * * *

                Narciso watched her go, furious that he’d allowed himself to be drawn into her orbit again.

                The way he’d operated the last two days had been the best course.

                So what if he’d climbed metaphoric walls while locked in his study? He’d sealed two deals and added to his billions, and he’d even managed to stop thinking about Ruby Trevelli for longer than five minutes.

                But then his investigator had presented him with another opportunity to finish off Giacomo. And once again, Narciso had walked away, unable to halt the chain reaction inside that seemed to be scraping raw emotions he’d long ago suppressed; unable to stop his world hurtling towards a place he didn’t recognise.

                That his first thought had been to seek out Ruby and share his confusion had propelled him in the opposite direction.

                His reaction to her continued to baffle him. In the last two days, he’d expended serious brainpower talking himself out of tracking down the woman who kissed like a seductress but whose innocence his conscience battled with him against tainting.

                Dio, when the hell had he even grown a conscience?