‘Yes.’
Her nose wrinkled. ‘Then I’d rather eat here—if that’s okay with you.’
‘Perfectly okay.’ Dmitri turned back to the stove to tip savoury pasta into a warmed serving bowl. ‘And, if you would not consider it cooking, perhaps you would you care to get the garlic bread out of the warming oven?’ he suggested with a teasing smile as he carried the steaming bowl of spaghetti to the table.
‘I think I can do that, yes,’ she came back pertly.
Dmitri turned back from the table in time to see Lily pick up an oven cloth before bending down to open the lower oven, so giving him a perfect view of her shapely bottom. Something guaranteed to turn his thoughts from food to another appetite entirely!
She really did have the most delectable bottom. Firm, with just enough roundness that a man would enjoy curling a hand about as he—
‘More wine?’ Dmitri prompted gruffly, and he moved to collect the bottle from the worktop, his expression strained as he took the spoons and forks from the drawer beside the oven.
‘Er—yes. Thanks.’ Lily straightened slowly, biting her lip as she carried the bowl of garlic bread over to the table, obviously slightly confused at the sudden change in his tone. ‘Are you sure you don’t mind eating down here?’ She hesitated about sitting down on the chair Dmitri had pulled back for her.
No—in light of his previous thoughts about her bottom he wasn’t at all sure about continuing to remain in the informal intimacy of the kitchen! His only concern at the moment should be ensuring Claudia’s safe return. Certainly not imagining how he would enjoy clasping Lily’s bottom as he took her on the dining table!
‘Very sure,’ he clipped, pushing her chair in as she finally sat down, then moving around the table to occupy the chair opposite as he felt himself drawn to the now-familiar apple-and-cinnamon scents of her hair. Only to look up and find himself the focus her huge and puzzled blue eyes...
Beautiful eyes, Dmitri conceded. In fact, she was beautiful all over—from her silver-blond hair to the creamy smoothness of her pale skin. And as for the sensual allure of the pouting fullness of her lips—
Again, that was quite enough of that, he cautioned himself determinedly. Being kept here against her will as she was, Lily had absolutely no reason to like or trust him without him adding another layer to that distrust by allowing his increasing physical awareness of her to become an issue.
‘Eat,’ he instructed tersely, and he placed a large serving of pasta into her bowl before serving himself.
Lily raised mocking brows. ‘Does that tone of voice usually work for you?’
Dmitri closed his eyes briefly in self-disgust, before looking across the table at her. ‘I apologise. Circumstances are such that I am not...my usual self today.’
‘And is your usual self better or worse than the self you are today?’ she asked curiously.
‘I would hope that he is at least more polite than I was just now,’ he admitted ruefully.
‘In that case, perhaps you would like to try again?’ she suggested sweetly.
Dmitri relaxed back in his chair. ‘Please eat before the food gets cold, Lily.’
‘Much better,’ she said with approval, and she picked up her fork to twine some of the spaghetti onto its tines before twirling it round. Only to have it fall off again before she could get it to her mouth. ‘Damn,’ she muttered, and tried again.
He chuckled softly. ‘You do it like this.’ He sat forward to pick up his fork and his spoon to demonstrate how the spoon should be placed on the end of the tines of the fork to keep the pasta in place.
‘See?’ He popped the pasta into his mouth.
Lily saw just fine—in fact, her gaze had been transfixed on his sensually wicked mouth the whole time. She just wasn’t having any success in doing it herself, and forkful after forkful of the slippery pasta fell back into the bowl before making it as far as her mouth. But she was not about to give in and simply chop the spaghetti up and use her spoon to eat it, as she had so often seen other English people do.
‘I could just starve to death with my current success rate!’ she muttered, as yet another forkful of pasta fell back into the bowl. ‘Maybe I should stick to the garlic bread!’ She picked up a slice and took a healthy bite.
‘Here—let me show you how.’ He was still chuckling as he stood up to come round to her side of the table and bend over beside her, taking the spoon and fork from her unresisting fingers.
Mistake, Lily realised, tensing as every nerve ending in her body suddenly went on alert at his close proximity. Nor did it help that he looked so much younger, so much more approachable and so much more attractive, when he laughed. Almost boyishly handsome, in fact. Except there was absolutely nothing in the least boyish about Dmitri Scarletti!
A fact she was only too aware of now, as he stood far too close to her, the warm line of his arm brushing lightly against her shoulder, the loose white shirt falling forward and allowing her to see clearly the firm muscles of his chest and stomach, and the dark hair that lightly covered the whole of his chest before disappearing in a tantalising vee beneath the waistband of his jeans.
He smelled really good too—of spicy aftershave and hot, earthy male.
Oh, good Lord!
‘Open your mouth, Lily,’ he encouraged.
She raised startled lids. And then wished she hadn’t as she realised his face was on a level with her own as he bent down beside her. Those pale green eyes were darkening to emerald as she looked at him, his breath a warm caress as she ran her tongue nervously across her slightly parted lips.
Her mesmerised gaze was transfixed on Dmitri’s lips as he huskily repeated his earlier request. ‘Open your mouth.’
Lily couldn’t drag her gaze away from his as her lips slowly parted—only to have all the tastebuds in her mouth explode in pleasure as he neatly placed a forkful of the pasta carbonara onto her tongue.
‘Oh, my God!’ she breathed shakily once she was able to talk at all. ‘That is so good!’ She opened her eyes to look up at him appreciatively. ‘You should open your own restaurant—no, of course you couldn’t do that.’ Lily grimaced as she immediately realised how ridiculous it was even to suggest that Count Scarletti become the chef of his own restaurant.
Dmitri had been held completely transfixed by the expression of pure ecstasy on her face as she ate the forkful of pasta, his shaft hardening as he was instantly bombarded by thoughts of how she would look exactly that same way in the throes of physical pleasure. Eyes closed. Throat arched. A dreamy smile upon her lips as she became completely lost to that ecstasy...
His gaze was still riveted on those slightly parted lips as she breathed softly, and his own breath caught in his throat as the pink moistness of her tongue flicked out to lick a tiny smear of the carbonara sauce from her bottom lip.
Dmitri groaned softly in his throat as the throb of his shaft became almost painful as it grew harder, more swollen, with each rapid beat of his heart. As he imagined his own tongue flicking across the pouting sensuality of Lily’s mouth. Licking. Tasting.
‘I think I can manage on my own now, thank you, Dmitri.’
Lily’s voice shattered those disturbingly sensuous images. He placed the fork and spoon down in her bowl and moved quickly round to the other side of the table, resuming his own seat. Before Lily could become aware of the throbbing evidence of his very obvious arousal.
This had never happened to him before, Dmitri realised with a frown. This sudden and complete awareness of a woman. And not just any woman, but one specific woman.
Oh, his relationships had been numerous over the years—brief, businesslike arrangements for the main part, that satisfied the woman’s physical requirements as well as his own, while at the same time demanding nothing from him except the occasional expensive bauble as an added sign of his interest.
Dmitri had only known Lily a matter of hours, but he already knew her well enough to realise she was the type of woman who would throw an
y expensive bauble in a man’s face if it was given to her under such circumstances!
Add into that equation the fact that he was keeping her here against her will—a prisoner in a gilded cage, as she put it so eloquently—and his sudden desire to kiss her, to caress and pleasure her, was the very madness she had accused him of earlier!
‘Dmitri?’
‘Yes?’ He scowled darkly as he looked across the table at her from between narrowed lids.
Lily sat back slightly and eyed him warily, not altogether sure what to make of yet another sudden change in his mood. One moment he had been teasing her, the next seeming as if he might actually kiss her and then he had retreated so suddenly it was as if she carried some sort of contagious disease.
Which was perhaps how he thought of her, believing as he did that her brother was nothing but a fortune-hunter.
And of course the attractive, the rich, the titled Count Dmitri Scarletti hadn’t been about to kiss her! What on earth was she thinking of? He’d only been being kind when he’d offered to teach her how to eat the pasta properly. The rest of it was purely in her own imagination. She would be wise to put such thoughts completely from her mind when she was the very last woman he would ever allow himself to be attracted to.
As Lily was attracted to him?
It would be useless even to try to fool herself into thinking otherwise. How could she possibly attempt to deny the attraction when she was so totally aware of every single thing about the man?
In fact, she was dangerously close to being infatuated with everything about him—the way he looked, the way he talked, the graceful way he moved, even the way he smelt. She physically ached with the effort of trying to resist her feelings.
Oh, hell...
CHAPTER SIX
THANKFULLY, by the time they had eaten the pasta and garlic bread, and loaded the bowls into the dishwasher, Lily had her wandering imagination back under control. It had been helped along by being able to relax as Dmitri related some of the more amusing stories of his time as a student in England. Designed, no doubt, to put Lily at ease.
It also didn’t hurt that along the way they’d managed to empty one bottle of red wine and open another.
In fact, Lily was now so relaxed that she had almost forgotten her reasons for being here with him by the time they sat back down at the table to eat a selection of cheeses and sliced fruit.
‘So, what made you decide to take up kick-boxing?’ Dmitri prompted curiously.
Lily shot him a wry look. ‘The fact that I’m five-foot-two-inches tall and weigh a puny seven-and-a-half stone.’
‘I see.’ He smiled. ‘And no doubt such a skill would also be useful if you were ever to find yourself the reluctant guest of an Italian count!’
Lily met his gaze steadily. ‘I didn’t have quite this situation in mind at the time, but yes, no doubt it would. Kick-boxing isn’t about size or weight but ability.’ She shrugged.
Dmitri frowned. ‘I trust you know that I meant it earlier when I said I do not have any intention of harming you in any way? My quarrel is not with you but with your brother.’ His expression hardened.
‘And I trust you know that I meant it when I said I’m not worried?’ she insisted.
‘Yes.’ He laughed. ‘Obviously you are a young lady well accustomed to taking care of yourself.’
Lily frowned, sensing an implied criticism of her brother in his comment. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘Exactly as it sounded.’ Dmitri gave another shrug of those incredibly wide, muscular, biteable—
Okay, so maybe she had drunk a little too much of that deliciously smooth wine with her meal—because she had definitely started drooling again!
‘As you’re well aware, we do things differently in England, Dmitri.’ She shook her head. ‘I’m twenty-six years old, and I certainly don’t need a man—especially my little brother—to take care of me, thank you very much.’ She winced as she realised exactly what she had just said. ‘Not that I’m faulting you for being protective of Claudia. Not at all. The situation is completely different, and obviously you’ve been responsible for her for a long time—’ She broke off as he began to laugh. ‘Am I overdoing the apology?’
‘Just a little.’ He smiled across at her—a smile that made her stomach turn somersaults.
Oh, good Lord...! It really was time she made her excuses and went upstairs to bed.
‘It occurs to me that we have not had any dessert with our meal,’ Dmitri said.
Lily looked surprised. ‘Cheese and fruit don’t count?’
‘Not when the best ice cream in the world is available a short walk away, cara,’ he replied.
Lily felt warmth enter her cheeks as she recognised that casual endearment—cara was the Italian equivalent of the English ‘dear’, wasn’t it? Perhaps she wasn’t the only one who had imbibed a little too much of that delicious red wine?
Was her imagination playing tricks on her, or had Dmitri just said the best ice cream in the world was a short walk away? Why would he have said that if she was supposed to be his prisoner? ‘Are you suggesting that we go outside for a walk?’
Dmitri winced slightly. ‘You really do consider yourself a prisoner here, don’t you?’
‘Maybe that’s because I am?’ Lily said bluntly.
‘I had not—’ Dmitri stopped, and then took a deep breath. ‘Perhaps I was a little heavy-handed with you earlier.’
‘Perhaps?’ she said incredulously.
Dmitri continued to look across at her for several long minutes, appreciative of the things she had revealed about herself as they’d chatted over dinner—things that she was not perhaps even aware of. Such as the fact that she had obviously taken her role as the eldest of the twins very seriously since the death of her parents. That she had not taken a holiday in several years, and even then it had been in England. That she missed her brother very much. And, most importantly of all, perhaps, that this holiday in Italy was unexpected and something she could ill afford on a teacher’s salary.
She had been looking forward to it with excited anticipation. Only to arrive in Rome and find herself then incarcerated without having seen her brother or a single one of the historic attractions she had obviously so looked forward to exploring.
Because Dmitri had decreed it should be so. Because, out of concern for his sister and anger towards Felix, he had decided to punish the only person who was available to him.
‘There is no question of it. I was unreasonable with you on your arrival in Rome,’ he acknowledged heavily.
Lily’s eyes widened. ‘Are you sure this isn’t just the wine talking?’
Those sculptured lips curved into a teasing smile. ‘Wine is like mother’s milk to an Italian, Lily.’
‘Really?’ His lips on a woman’s breast was an image that did absolutely nothing for Lily’s earlier resolve to stop her imagination running away with her—and not just any woman’s breast, either, but her own.
Okay, it was definitely time she excused herself and went to bed!
Past time, if her fantasies about this man were going to become so explicit she had actually felt a sharp spike of arousal—from the tingling of her breasts to the rapidly increasing dampness between her thighs...
‘Where would you like to go?’ Dmitri asked.
Bed probably wasn’t the answer she should give right now! ‘In all the guidebooks I read it said that the Trevi Fountain is particularly spectacular at night.’
‘It is,’ he confirmed, rising to his feet and coming around the table with the obvious intention of pulling her chair back for her. ‘And, luckily for us, the best ice cream in Rome is just around the corner from it.’
She looked up at him uncertainly. ‘At this time of night?’
‘Of course. Roma is a city that never sleeps, Lily.’
‘Like New York?’
Dmitri shook his head. ‘In my experience New York is frenetic and Roma is romantic,’ he corrected.
Oh, yes—a romantic walk in the moonlight with this devastatingly handsome man was just what she needed when her defences already felt like mush!
‘Why have you suddenly become so...accommodating, Dmitri?’ she asked awkwardly.
Those pale green eyes darkened with what looked like regret. ‘Perhaps because I now realise exactly how...unaccommodating I have been up till now?’
Lily stood up slowly, not sure that she altogether trusted Dmitri in this relaxed and charming mood. Definitely not sure she trusted herself in his company when he was in this almost playful mood!
Much as she welcomed the possibility of leaving the palazzo, if only for a short time, this collapse of her defences surely made it a recipe for disaster? Moonlight. Delicious ice cream. The Trevi Fountain. Dmitri Scarletti. Most especially the latter...
She turned, with the intention of telling him that it had been a long day and she thought it better if she went to bed now, only to tense as she realised how close he was now standing. He made no effort to step away from the back of her chair. So close Lily could once again feel the heat emanating from his body. Smell the aftershave that mingled so appealingly with hot, virile male. And see the dark shadow of stubble once more on his chin.
She could actually see the way the iris of his eyes had once again darkened to emerald as his gaze became fixed, apparently captivated by her slightly parted lips...
She couldn’t breathe, and was pretty sure she couldn’t have moved even if someone had shouted Fire! In fact, she felt unable to break away from his compelling gaze, her body actually starting to tremble as Dmitri continued to look deeply into her eyes.
Her throat moved convulsively as she swallowed. ‘It’s pretty late, Dmitri—’ Lily didn’t get any further in excusing herself as his arm moved firmly about her waist and he pulled her in close against him.
‘You’re right, Lily.’ His voice was a low, husky growl. ‘I am afraid it is far too late.’
His head moved down slowly and he captured her mouth with his own.
A Night in the Palace Page 7