by Sam Crescent
Elodie stepped back and squared off with him, digging deep for calm. She wasn’t looking to create a scene, but there would be one if he didn’t back off. “I’m just here to enjoy the party, and you’re making me uncomfortable. Please, give me some space.”
Instead, he inched closer. “Why, cara? Because you are here with the duchessa you think you are too good for me?” His smile grew. He probably thought it was charming, but it came across as creepy and shark-like. “I am a wealthy man. A definite catch. I would shower you with gifts and treat you as you deserve. Why would you want me to walk away?”
“Because she asked you to.”
The voice came from behind her and brought with it a frisson of awareness so strong it was as if she was standing naked in the elements at the edges of a lightning storm. The unctuous man backed off, paling a little when the man behind her had spoken. Even as she relaxed and unballed now unnecessary fists, her body took on an entirely new tension.
Before she turned, Elodie could feel the newcomer’s gaze on her as tangibly as if he were touching her. It warmed her blood and made her skin tingle. It was nothing compared to what it was like to be pinned by his gaze.
Her breath caught in her throat when she finally came face to face with him.
Caesario Altaviti.
Like the photo had portrayed, he was a gorgeously handsome man. But the photo had been unable to replicate the sheer force of him or the raw masculine magnetism that had her gravitating toward him. Perfectly groomed and in a dark and exquisitely tailored suit, he was indomitable.
Elodie could only stare at this man, who possessed a lazy smile that caused her heart to flop over in her chest.
“Elodie, I present to you my nephew, Caesario.” Ana’s voice was faint through the haze. “Caesario, Elodie. She’s the incredibly talented designer and stylist from that boutique I’ve been frequenting. The one you said someone mentioned to you once.” Her gaze flicked between them. “Her shop is filled with the most amazing treasures. Elodie has a flair for design and quite the discerning eye.”
And those eyes were eating up the man in front of her.
Ana was still talking. “Caesario is a brilliant businessman and one of the wealthiest men in the world, in addition to being Italian nobility.”
His eyes drifted to her warming cheeks, but with a quick flick they were locked back onto hers. “You’re embarrassing poor Elodie, zia Ana.”
“Nonsense. This is a tough woman. She must be to have created such a successful business so far from home. I believe she will be most interesting to get to know.” Ana gave them both a pat that somehow pushed them closer together. Taking the opportunity, she appraised them with a smile. “If you ask me, you’re well suited to one another. Now have fun. Mingle. Enjoy yourselves.”
How on earth was she going to do that with everyone suddenly watching them? Elodie had been vaguely aware of the attention on them almost from the moment Caesario arrived at her side and dispatched the ass who’d tried to corner her. But now, she could feel their attention on her and had no doubt that all ears were turned their way as well now that Ana had publicly, and very loudly, announced her approval of them together.
He peered into her eyes, his smile growing wider. “So, you’re the woman my aunt wants me to meet and fall head over heels in love with.”
Her pulse fluttered wildly. “I don’t think she expects that immediately. I believe her intentions were for us to get to know one another.”
“To see if we’re a suitable match with matrimony on the horizon.” He looked across the room, prompting her to do the same. Ana stood with a group but was paying no mind to the conversation going on around her. Her attention was blatantly on them. Almost gleefully so. “And perhaps to announce to the female half of the party that she’s found someone she considers my match. My aunt is nothing if not high handed.”
Elodie couldn’t help the tiny smile. “She only wants what’s best for you.”
He met her gaze again. “And you don’t think I can determine that for myself?”
“Ana said she was concerned.”
Caesario shrugged. “All she’s concerned about is getting babies out of me.”
Her cheeks grew hot at his comment. “You make it sound like she thinks you’re some sort of stud horse.”
“That’s how she makes me feel sometimes.” He sighed. “I guess we should just humor her.”
The tingle of reaction when he took her hand and caressed the back with his lips weakened her knees as he held her gaze with his fathomless one. “Caesario Altaviti.”
“Elodie Bell.” Her name was barely a whisper. Why had her lungs forgotten how to work?
“Piacere.” He let his lips linger a moment longer than necessary before straightening. “Would you like a drink?”
The bartender had clearly been watching the interplay between them. He slid a beautifully presented bellini she had ordered before being so rudely interrupted by the other man.
“Would you like one?” She lifted it to her lips with a smile.
He chuckled and asked for two glasses of champagne. Presented with two sparkling crystal flutes, he took her drink, put it to one side, then handed her one. “This is much better to commemorate such a momentous occasion.”
Elodie accepted it even as she looked up at him questioningly. “And that would be?”
“It isn’t every day you meet and get to show off the woman who will become your wife.”
There was no way to stop the near hysterical burble of laughter.
He stood a little straighter and gave her an imperious glance. “What’s so funny?”
“You’re insane.”
“Do you think my aunt is insane?”
A little eccentric, maybe, but she wasn’t going to tell him that. “No, she’s worried about you.”
“But she wants exactly this to happen. For us to come together, fall madly in love, though I don’t even think she requires that much, then make many beautiful babies.”
In Ana’s mind, perhaps that was true. Elodie sighed as a strange yearning tugged low in her belly at the image Caesario had painted in her mind. “Let’s just see how this night goes, first.”
“Yes. Let’s.” He clinked his glass to hers. “We should make sure we’re compatible and acceptable before making any big decisions.”
“And how are we going to do that?” Her pulse throbbed at the way his eyes darkened further when he looked at her. Compatibility wasn’t a problem. At least not where lust was concerned. What niggled at Elodie was everyone else’s reaction. Would she fit in? Would they accept her? Did she truly care if they did?
“We dive right in, of course.” He wound an arm around her waist as if testing the waters. “Look how well we fit.”
Caesario was warm against her side and smelled wonderful, teasing her senses. Tempting her to edge closer so she could get more of both.
When he leaned in closer, whispering, “Imagine all the other ways we’d fit,” in her ear Elodie nearly dropped her glass.
Chuckling, he whisked her into the crowd.
Chapter Three
“Caesario!”
He was greeted like a conquering king with grins and fluttering lashes, back pats and hugs, but not once did he forget she was there. Caesario’s arm stayed comfortingly around her waist the entire time as if to allay her anxiety at mingling with people with whom she didn’t have much in common. He made introductions, eased her into conversations, and overall put her at ease as they migrated from group to group. Though names had been put to faces, they were too many and too exotic for Elodie to remember every single one. All she knew was they were all dazzling and surprisingly welcoming. Elodie found herself having an enjoyable time.
“And who is this lovely lady?” The French-accented question came from a man who’d just joined them and been introduced moments before as Andre, a gemologist based in Antwerp.
“This is Elodie.” Caesario smiled warmly at her. Their gazes locked for an inst
ant as he squeezed her closer. The move and the fact that he didn’t feel the need to elaborate was enough to arouse the interest in the eyes of both the men and the women in the group.
A statuesque redhead in a spectacular, but over the top, crimson Valentino gown eyed her suspiciously. “And what does Elodie,” she pronounced her name slowly, as if it took practice to say a name so pedestrian, “do?”
“To me?” Caesario looked down at Elodie and gave her a lascivious wink. “Anything she wants.”
The reply earned chuckles from everyone but the woman who’d posed the question.
Caesario’s grin broadened. “Elodie is a very talented designer. You should check out her boutique. Very chic. It’s frequented by the rich and famous. My dear aunt Ana has even become a recent convert.”
There were a few murmurs from around them, and Elodie was stunned to see several women who had been to her shop nodding in vehement agreement. Some were even wearing her designs!
How could she not blush? Not only at the praise but at his first comment? He wrapped his arm tighter around Elodie, anchoring her to him. Besides allowing her to feel the hard lines of his body, it was a very clear display of possession.
And she didn’t mind one bit. She didn’t care about the desirous looks she was getting from a few of the men or the venomous glares she was getting from many of the women—from the redhead, especially.
She could only be the woman Ana had been concerned about. Clarice. It was only natural to size the other woman up, wasn’t it? She was gorgeous and clearly knew it. But the vibe that came off her—and the superior look in her eyes—was off putting. And not only to Elodie from the side-eye glances she was getting from people around her.
Did she really have to worry about Clarice being a contender for Caesario’s attentions?
The warm splay of his hand over her ribcage had her forgetting all about the other woman. From all appearances, Caesario was determined to make sure that everyone knew they were together.
For Ana’s benefit?
Elodie’s gaze flitted around the room to find his aunt looking at them intermittently. It was quite amusing actually when everyone else seemed to be following her lead. Was it her influence that had everyone looking their way, or was Caesario so fascinating that no one could keep their eyes off him?
She knew she couldn’t. Handsome, magnetic, and charming. Three qualities that were apparent right away. Who wouldn’t want to keep staring at Caesario? And he was smart, able to speak intelligently about a wide range of topics in a dizzying number of languages. If all that wasn’t enough, being pressed so close to him only intensified her attraction.
If he could act as though he owned her, what was stopping her from doing the same? Especially with the redhead still glaring at her as if she wanted to tear her hair out. The urge to enrage the other woman was beneath her, and nothing would have amused her more at the moment, but Elodie was more interested in touching Caesario. To hell with every other consideration.
Elodie went to wrap her arm around his waist, but, as she slowly lifted her arm, she made sure her hand lightly cupped his tight ass on the way up. He might not have faltered in the story he was telling, but the way his body tensed against hers told her Caesario had more than noticed.
There was no mention or retaliation from him, however. He continued to chat, making sure never to leave her out of the conversation. For having the reputation of a womanizer, he was quite the gentleman.
Then, as he was translating what a Greek scientist was saying about the future of solar energy, he skimmed the underside of her breast with his thumb. Her mouth went dry. Had it been an accident? It might have been, but as she was beginning to relax again, it happened again. This time a slow, deliberate stroke. The touch, while little more than a brush, was enough to send a bolt of pleasure through her. The heat of his hand was like a brand through the gauzy satin of the dress. The graze of his thumb might as well have been a lick of fire.
The fine material of the dress was no disguise against her body’s response to him. Not that she could hide it from her face either. Anyone who cared to look would probably notice just how rapt she was.
They continued to chat, about the weather of all things, as mundane a topic as they could possibly discuss, but Elodie was barely paying attention. She’d had her fill of conversation anyway. Hours of chitchat about everything under the sun and now they were looping around again. Elodie did her best to nod and smile, reply with a murmur where appropriate, and probably giving off the worst impression of herself possible, but she was enjoying Caesario’s touch far too much to really care.
Not to be outdone, she shifted and gave his questioning glance a coquettish little smile in reply as she adjusted her hold of him. It wasn’t fair that he was able to touch her and she was impeded by his jacket.
Since it was unbuttoned, it was a simple matter of sliding her arm inside to loop around his back. What no one else could see was, as the topic of conversation turned to yachts and whose was the most impressive, Elodie had worked to untuck his shirt and tunnel her hand inside.
His skin was taut, warm—living silk over solid muscle—inviting her to touch and explore. How could she deny herself that?
With the flat of her hand she studied the fascinating landscape of his back. She traced patterns with the tips of her fingers, earning her a quiet groan from him. It was with a flinch from him that she knew she found a ticklish spot. Caesario nearly choked on his champagne when she gently raked the stretch of flesh with her nails.
Stifling a giggle, she did it again, prompting Caesario to twist away and grip her in front of him in what looked to be a loving hold, but he’d caged her arms to keep her from tickling him anymore.
The position, however, introduced new possibilities.
Especially with the hard ridge currently pressed in the cleft of her ass. She managed a wriggle of her hips before Caesario tightened his grip on her and leaned in to growl. “Play nice.”
She wriggled again. “Or what?”
He nipped her earlobe as he ground himself against her. “Or I won’t either.”
Elodie’s knees trembled as she leaned against him for support. Perhaps it hadn’t been the best idea when she was trying to make a good impression on everyone. Especially Ana. She could imagine Caesario throwing all niceties aside and dragging her off. A prospect that sounded far too good.
Composing herself, Elodie straightened, slightly apprehensive of meeting anyone else’s eye knowing they’d all been watching them avidly. When she finally mustered the courage, she lifted her gaze and unfortunately met sparks in the redhead’s eyes. With a final glare and a huff, at what probably looked to her to be a random spell of PDA, the redhead turned and flounced away.
A soft chuckle came from the man behind Elodie before slipping back into conversation. She had no idea whether it was connected to the redhead stomping off or something said since Elodie couldn’t hear a thing. Not with Caesario pressed up against her, his deliciously warm breath on her ear and neck whenever he leaned close to speak to her.
Movement from across the room drew her attention, and she caught a glimpse of Ana talking to a woman not too far away. As if she sensed Elodie’s attention on her, she looked up, took one look at them, then gave her a sly wink.
What must she think of her, letting Caesario hold her like he had every right to? But try as she might, she couldn’t put any space between them. Eventually, it became a choice between making a fuss or relaxing against him. She chose the latter, seeking the path of least resistance and the most pleasure.
He linked his arms in front of her as he leaned down to whisper, “Hungry?”
Starving, actually, now that she thought about it. With all the craziness of the day she hadn’t had time or even thought to eat. “I could go for a bite.”
Excusing them from the group, Caesario led the way through to where a decadent buffet lay spread over a huge table. Everything imaginable, from savory to sweet, was available a
nd artfully displayed. It was almost a shame to disturb the work that had obviously gone into it. But her mouth had already begun to water, and Elodie could only be thankful that her stomach wasn’t betraying just how long it’d been since she’d had her last meal.
Elodie let her gaze wander over the delicacies. Where to start?
“You must try this.” Caesario picked up a tiny, beautifully decorated cake. A sacrilege to eat, surely. He held it out for her to taste. Elodie hesitated, aware they were far from alone, but relented. One bite had her stifling a groan of delight as the delicate flavors blended on her tongue.
He grinned. “Heavenly, isn’t it?” His attention dropped to her lips as his eyebrows lowered in consideration. “But I need…” In a deft move, he smeared some of the icing on her lips and swooped in to taste it with a kiss.
It wasn’t a brief brushing of lips either. They caught fire the moment their mouths touched. Caesario licked the sugary confection away with a swipe of his tongue before delving between her lips. The combination of his unique taste together with the icing made her head swim.
Caesario didn’t just kiss; he demanded. He took. He conquered.
Cake gone, his hands tunneled into her hair to grip her close as he brought his body flush to hers. Elodie couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. All she could do was cling to him in an attempt to stay upright while she attacked his mouth right back.
He pushed her back until her hips were trapped between him and the table, leaving her nowhere to go when he situated himself between them and rocked against her.
“Scusami.”
Elodie lurched back with an embarrassed gasp, not that Caesario was going to let her go. He eased back as if they had all the time in the world and moved them away without so much as a murmur of apology to the man wanting access to the food. It was clear he was only trying to break up the scene, and Caesario didn’t appreciate it.
Not that she had much of a chance to dwell, however. Caesario all but snarled at the man as he grabbed a gilded plate. He deftly piled a few mouthwatering items on it before leading the way through the massive French doors and out into the gardens.