by Penny Jordan
She made an impatient movement, thankfully breaking the momentary threat as Luc’s gaze returned enquiringly to her own.
‘Perhaps we should just cook dinner?’ she suggested wearily.
He remained unmoving for several long—tension-filled!—seconds, as his dark eyes roamed shrewdly over the paleness of her face, before he gave a terse inclination of his head and stepped away from her. ‘Perhaps we should,’ he allowed gruffly. ‘I am much…mellower when I have been fed,’ he assured her self-derisively. ‘Let’s hope that the same is also true of you.’
There was an implicit warning in his words that Darci knew she would be foolish to ignore. Very foolish. And, though she might be many things, foolish certainly wasn’t one of them.
Although she wasn’t exactly looking forward to coping with a mellower Luc Gambrelli once they had eaten dinner!
Dinner was surprisingly fun to cook—Luc proving himself to be a creative, as well as capable cook as he sautéed the prawns with garlic and then prepared a fresh, creamy mushroom sauce to go with the steak. Darci did the more basic cooking of the meat itself, as well as the potatoes and the preparation of a salad. Luc finished his contribution by preparing a vinegar and mustard dressing to go with the latter.
He sat across the kitchen table from Darci once they had finished eating their meal, looking at her from beneath lowered lids. The room felt comfortably informal, as he had guessed it might the evening before. Darci, he had been pleased to note, had relaxed a little herself as they’d prepared dinner together, showing none of the lack of appetite she had claimed earlier as they ate all the food and drank several more glasses of red wine.
He had been deeply annoyed at their conversation before dinner, but it was an annoyance he recognised as being slightly illogical. Because he knew he had earned his reputation—even if he wouldn’t have quite put it in the term of being a womanising playboy!
He certainly didn’t like the idea that that was what Darci thought him to be!
He was thirty-four years old, had been sexually active since the age of sixteen and had never married, and so of course there had been women in his life. He didn’t regret any of those affairs, either.
Especially when it was the very experience he had gained that had enabled him to give Darci such pleasure the evening before….
‘So tell me,’ he prompted lazily as they lingered over the cheese course, ‘what made you decide to become a doctor?’
He had spent a lot of the time as they prepared dinner together in surreptitiously watching Darci as she worked. He had noted the slenderness of her wrists and her long hands, her economy of movement, and had known that she was the sort of woman who took a pride in doing something well. It was also clear that she would bring the same economy and efficiency of movement to her chosen profession.
And to her lovemaking…?
It was a long time since Luc had fantasised about making love with any woman—since he had needed to!—but as he’d watched Darci he hadn’t been able to stop himself from imagining those slender fingers on his body, as she touched and caressed him, and had almost been able to feel her stroking him.
Darci thought awhile, not exactly mellowed by the food she had eaten and the wine she had drunk, but certainly not as tense as she had been earlier, either. Which was due, in part, she knew, to the fact that Luc had been decidedly unthreatening—deliberately so?—as they’d prepared dinner together.
‘Why did you become a film producer?’ she came back dryly.
Luc shook his head. ‘It isn’t the same. Medicine isn’t something you enter into on a whim. It takes dedication and a lot of hard work.’
Darci quirked one auburn brow. ‘And is that what you did? Became a film producer on a whim?’ she explained, at his questioning look.
She was turning this conversation back on him, Luc knew. In an effort not to talk about herself?
Probably, he acknowledged, recognising that, like him, Darci didn’t enjoy talking about her private life. And as a doctor, there to listen to a patient’s symptoms before making a diagnosis, she’d get away with keeping her privacy most of the time, too.
No matter. He would allow himself to be diverted for the moment, but when he was ready, they would return to the subject of Darci.
He gave a rueful smile. ‘My cousin Cesare owns the Gambrelli chain of hotels, a recording studio and an airline, as well as numerous other business endeavours. My brother, Wolf, is into property ownership and development worldwide, and, as Count Gambrelli, he also deals with the running of the family estates in Italy.’ He paused. ‘Younger brothers—the “spare”, I believe they are called in this country—have a tough time of it trying to find their niche in life.’
Darci gave him a considering look, instinctively knowing that no matter how Luc might choose to make light of it, younger brother or not, he would be good at whatever he chose to do.
Including as a lover…?
Especially as a lover, she accepted, with a hardening of her resolve not to fall under this man’s spell.
Something she was in danger of doing now, as the evening progressed—all the time aware of Luc’s raw energy beneath that easygoing façade, of the sensual lure of his body, of the muscles that rippled beneath that black T-shirt when he moved. Even the aftershave he wore had invaded her senses….
Possibly, she allowed grudgingly.
Definitely, she admitted self-disgustedly.
She was more aware of Luc Gambrelli—sexually, as well as otherwise—than she had ever been of a man in her life before!
‘Well, you certainly found your niche,’ she said. ‘Both in and out of the film studio,’ she added cheekily, and then stood up abruptly and began to clear the table.
Luc watched her, aware that she was trying to antagonise him once again. That something—some thought, perhaps?—had put Darci back on the defensive.
That same defensiveness that had dictated her behaviour towards him on Thursday evening, when they’d first met?
Probably.
But Luc felt less inclined to push for answers about the reasons for her defensiveness now. He knew that once he did, once Darci had told him exactly why it was she distrusted him, she would then ensure they didn’t see each other again.
And he wanted to see her again.
Wanted more than that.
Much more.
He wanted to touch her again as he had last night!
But with Darci, he knew, it was going to be a question of waiting, of biding his time, of spending more evenings like this one getting to know her, before attempting to push their relationship onto the more intimate footing that he craved.
He stood up to join her as she loaded the dishwasher. ‘You didn’t answer my question as to why you became a doctor,’ he reminded her.
She barely glanced at him before resuming loading the dishes into the machine. ‘I always wanted to be a doctor,’ she said flatly.
Luc studied her bent head, his fingers itching to release her hair from its confining clip. He wanted to watch as that fiery thickness cascaded onto her shoulders and down the long length of her back.
It was an impulse he resisted by curling his hands into fists at his sides. ‘And do you always get what you want?’ he prompted.
Darci straightened to give Luc a long, assessing glance, knowing that at some time in the last few minutes the atmosphere had changed, becoming more intimate, more sexually charged. It was a situation that had to be dispelled as quickly as possible.
Like now!
‘Don’t you?’ she challenged, with barely concealed sarcasm.
He easily returned her gaze. ‘Yes, but I would like to think not to anyone else’s detriment,’ he finally replied.
Not true in Mellie’s case, Darci reminded herself determinedly.
Although it was a reminder that was having less and less effect the more time she spent in Luc Gambrelli’s company. She suddenly realised that she hadn’t given Mellie, or the heartache this man h
ad caused her friend, a single thought as she and Luc had cooked and eaten dinner together.
After telling herself earlier that she wasn’t in the least foolish, she now knew it would be the height of foolishness if she were to actually fall for Luc herself!
She straightened. ‘It’s getting late, Luc, and I have to go into the hospital early in the morning, so I think it’s time you left,’ she told him impatiently, knowing that her impatience was directed at herself rather than at him. Luc hadn’t done anything this evening that she could claim as being in the least deliberately provocative; all of this physical awareness, this intimacy, was coming directly from inside her.
Because she remembered so vividly the touch of his hands and lips the night before, had lain awake in her bed last night long after parting from Kerry, unable to sleep as she’d tried, and failed, to put thoughts of Luc Gambrelli’s lovemaking from her mind.
Luc watched the emotions chasing across Darci’s expressive face as she so obviously fought some sort of inner battle with herself.
Over him?
Lord, he hoped so—he would hate to think he was going to suffer all the physical torture of enforced abstinence alone!
Because it was torture not to reach out and take Darci in his arms, to kiss her, touch her, as he so longed to do. As he knew that he couldn’t do if he intended being with her again. He knew instinctively that she would use any physical coercion on his part now as a reason not to see him again.
‘Of course,’ he accepted. ‘Perhaps you would have lunch with me on your next day off?’
He was rewarded by Darci’s startled look. ‘Lunch?’ she repeated.
He gave a wry smile. ‘It is a meal, usually partaken of at some time between midday and three o’clock—’
‘I know what lunch is, Luc,’ she cut in. ‘I just—I assumed you would be returning to Los Angeles some time during the next few days.’
‘Did you?’ he mused, his intention having been to go to Paris this week, rather than Los Angeles. Before he had met Darci, that was.
Before he had decided that capturing her, taking her to his bed, was the more urgent of the two….
But, no matter what did or didn’t happen between the two of them in the next few days, he really did have to be in Paris by next weekend. Unless he wanted to incur the wrath of his whole family!
Darci brooded. Well, of course she had thought Luc was returning to America soon. Why wouldn’t she?
Luc didn’t live in London. He had no home here as far as she was aware—had only come to London for the English premiere of Grant’s film, Turning Point. So, yes, of course she had assumed Luc would be returning to his life in Los Angeles in the next few days.
It had been that knowledge, she now realised, the thought that he wouldn’t have time to see her again, that had helped her get through this evening.
Luc’s suggestion that they meet for lunch on her next day off seemed to indicate he felt no immediate urgency to return home at the moment.
‘When is your free day, Darci?’ he persisted firmly.
‘Tuesday,’ she answered absently. ‘But—’
‘Then we will have lunch on Tuesday, yes?’
‘No!’
‘Why not?’ Once again he quirked that expressive brow.
‘Because—Luc, I don’t like playing games!’ she told him agitatedly. ‘We’ve had dinner, as you suggested, now let’s just—just stay away from each other, hmm?’
‘But we have not, as I also suggested, had our conversation concerning the puzzle of your behaviour towards me since we met on Thursday evening,’ he reminded her.
Her deliberate coolness, he meant. Her rudeness, and the fact that she had deliberately not turned up for their dinner date yesterday evening, either, after demanding he take her somewhere sinfully expensive….
It was a conversation Darci would rather they continued to avoid.
‘Unless you would care to have that conversation now?’ Luc challenged her, as he seemed to read some of her thoughts.
Damn him.
And damn her, she mentally berated herself. She should have taken Kerry’s advice and just stayed out of this. Now, instead, she found that Luc Gambrelli had invaded her life and was refusing to leave!
She gave a shake of her head. ‘I really can’t see the point in prolonging this—this acquaintance,’ she told him directly.
‘No?’ Luc said, and he took a step closer to her, reaching up, as he had longed to do all evening, and removing the clip from her hair, freeing the fiery tresses to shimmer like living flame about her shoulders and down her spine. His breath caught in his throat as Darci instantly looked wild and wanton.
Exactly how Luc wanted her!
He slowly lowered his head towards hers, hearing her breath catch in her throat a mere second before his lips gently claimed hers. He drew her lower lip into his mouth, his eyes open and locked with hers as he nibbled sensuously before running his tongue along that inner sensitivity. He was rewarded by Darci’s groan of capitulation as her mouth opened to allow him to deepen the kiss, her eyes closing as her arms moved up about his shoulders and her fingers became entangled in the hair at his nape.
She felt so good, tasted so good, that Luc didn’t want to stop there. He wanted to pick her up and carry her to her bed, to kiss and caress every velvety inch of her before burying himself deep inside her, stroking her wetness, gliding in and out of her, until he pumped his seed into her and joined her in an earth-shattering climax.
Instead he raised his head reluctantly, and his hands moved to grasp the tops of her arms. He held her away from him, knowing by her slightly unfocused green eyes, the flush to her cheeks, that Darci was as aroused as he was—that she wanted him to do all those things, too.
But Luc knew that anticipation would bring a much greater reward for both of them. He was determined that when he and Darci made love, she wouldn’t be able to accuse him of seducing her, that she would come to his bed of her own free will.
‘That is the point of prolonging this acquaintance,’ he explained. ‘I will call for you here at one o’clock on Tuesday,’ he instructed, then he released her to move determinedly away from her and stride through to the sitting-room.
It took Darci a few seconds to regain her scattered wits before she quickly followed him. ‘Luc—’
‘Not another word, Darci.’ He put silencing fingertips across her lips. ‘We have managed to get through this evening without…serious disagreements. Let’s leave it that way, hmm?’ he added teasingly.
She didn’t want to leave it that way! Not when leaving it meant he expected her to be waiting here for him on Tuesday when he called for her at one o’clock!
She drew in a ragged breath. ‘I really can’t—’
‘I am not taking no for an answer, Darci,’ he informed her briskly. ‘Which means it would be advisable for you to actually be here on Tuesday,’ he responded dryly.
Darci blinked. ‘Or…?’
Luc shrugged. ‘I am sure that a call to Grant will supply me with the information as to which hospital you work at, so that I might find you there when you return to work on Wednesday…’
Grant had phoned Darci earlier today, before he went off on a couple of weeks’ location shooting in Bulgaria—or Bolivia. She knew it was somewhere beginning with a B! Darci had not in the least appreciated her brother’s comment, ‘So you were impressed, after all?’ in reference to the fact that he knew she had arranged to have dinner with Luc Gambrelli the evening before!
But Grant never went anywhere without his mobile phone—not even this place beginning with B—and so would be completely reachable if Luc should need to call him….
And she didn’t like to think what the hospital staff, let alone her patients, would make of Luc Gambrelli—this golden-haired Sicilian god!—scouring the hospital looking for the normally serious and highly professional Dr Darci Wilde!
‘Lock up after I leave, hmm?’ Luc encouraged, as he walked to the door t
o quietly let himself out.
What was the point in locking up after he left when it was Luc himself that Darci should be barring her door against? she wondered disgruntledly, as she slowly moved to drop the catch on the door.
Because there was no doubt in her mind that Luc Gambrelli was getting to her!
Against everything she knew about him, against every warning her body screamed at her during the rare moments when she wasn’t totally befuddled by her complete physical awareness of him, Darci knew that Luc was getting well and truly under her guard.
And, after years of avoiding anything resembling a serious—or a physical—relationship, Darci knew that, even though she was twenty-eight years old, she simply didn’t have the experience to guard herself against that invasion.
CHAPTER SIX
‘WHERE are we going?’
Luc gave Darci a brief glance from behind his dark sunglasses as she sat beside him in the black sports car that he had borrowed for the day from his cousin Cesare. The soft top was down, and Darci wore her long red tresses unconfined today, so that they tumbled in the wind and gleamed like fire as the sun shone down on the two of them.
Darci had been waiting for Luc at her apartment when he’d arrived just before one o’clock, relieving him of the trouble of having to go looking for her. Something he had considered might be a definite possibility after her stubbornness before he’d left on Sunday evening.
But he should have known that Darci was made of much sterner stuff than that. That she wasn’t the sort of woman who would run away and hide from what she had to know was the inevitability of a relationship between the two of them.
At least, he hoped she realised it was inevitable….
The last thirty-six hours had been incredibly long ones as far as Luc was concerned. Most of them had been spent in his suite at the London Gambrelli Hotel as he’d considered his plan of action for taking the elusive Darci Wilde to his or her—it didn’t matter which!—bed.
That long drawn-out day and a half had at least brought him to one conclusion: whatever course of action he settled on, it could not include him staying away from Darci for long!