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Orlando caught Charlie to him and kissed her in spite of her protestations. And the crazy thing was, after all that had happened, she still wanted him.

“Let me go!” She pummeled his chest, but even as she did so her body pressed closer and twisted against him, seeking relief.

* * * Easing her down on the bed Orlando kept his hand between her legs, working it firmly and persuasively. He didn’t pause to remove her cheap cutoff jeans; he didn’t need to. He could feel her moist heat reaching him through them.

She whimpered with excitement as he soothed her in his own language, and it only took him a few well-judged strokes to tip her over the edge. Now he had her where he wanted—temporarily sated but vulnerable because soon she would want more.

As she gasped for breath, struggling between the urge to reach for him or push him away he did nothing to help her. Leaving her on the bed, he allowed time for the powerful waves of pleasure to subside so she could recover her composure.

“Are you ready to evaluate my painting now?” he said then.

It pleased him to see the way she looked at him. The cool, clearheaded art conservator had been caught yet again by the man she believed was cold and calculating. How did she think he had reached the pinnacle of success? By being an emotional fool?

She shook her head as she looked at him incredulously. “You’re a hard man—”

“And you’re a foolish woman,” he observed with satisfaction.

“Not as foolish as a man who spends ten million on a fake—”

“What?” His gaze traveled past her to the painting. Art was his passion, his only love in life, and he never ever made mistakes. “You can’t be right!”

“I know my job, and if you have the painting transported to a laboratory in Venice, I’ll call in a dozen experts and prove it to you.”

* * * It was fortunate Venice was full of museums and experts for Charlie to summon. By late that evening they had all agreed with her assessment, and as they filed out of the door of the laboratory, she flashed a look of triumph at Orlando before following them.

He caught up with her on the cobbled walkway overlooking the Grand Canal. “No one walks out on me—”

“And what will you do if I ignore your warning, Signor Rossi?”

Take her to bed, he thought, as her green eyes flashed fire. His mouth softened in a grim smile. “Take you to dinner,” he amended wisely.

“You must be joking!”

“I can assure you, I’m not. But, of course, if you don’t have the good grace to accept my apology...”

Sexual tension sparked between them, and with any other woman he would have been confident in her reply, but Charlie Bennett was very different from other women, and he could only wait and see what she would say.

to be continued….



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