A Price Worth Paying - By Trish Morey Page 0,9
was interested in her sexually. He was intrigued, it was true, and now that the shock of her surprise proposal was over, he was curious to hear more, but there was no point encouraging her.
She was still here. Simone let out a breath she hadn’t realised she’d been holding and turned to gaze out of the windows over the million euro view. He hadn’t thrown her out and neither had he let her flee. She was still here and he was going to cover himself up.
Surely that counted as success on two counts?
And now, for whatever reason, he actually seemed willing to listen to her.
Even better, maybe once he had covered up that chest and all that toned olive-gold skin, she might even be able to think straight. She could only hope. Being forced to look at all that masculine perfection without actually looking like she was looking at it was one hell of a distraction otherwise. When he’d had her backed against the door and touched his fingers to her shoulder, she’d felt the sizzle shoot straight to her core. Although maybe it was the hungry look in his eyes that had turned his touch electric …
God, what must it be like to be a woman who actually wanted him to touch her? She shivered, her body remembering the electric thrill. Dangerous, she thought, definitely dangerous. Thank God she wasn’t going there.
‘I apologise for keeping you waiting.’
His richly accented voice stroked its way down her spine, almost convincing her that he meant every word he said. She turned to find him dressed not in a robe, as she’d been half-expecting, but in light-coloured trousers and a fine knitted top that skimmed over the wall of his chest in a way she really didn’t want to think too much about. So she pushed her wayward hair behind her ears and looked elsewhere and found his feet instead. ‘Nice shoes,’ she said lamely, for want of anything better to say.
He glanced down at his leather loafers. ‘I have a man who makes them for me. He is very good.’
Handmade shoes, she pondered, really studying them this time, wishing she could hide away her own scuffed ballet flats. She’d known he had money, sure, but what was this world she’d dared enter, a world where he probably spent more on a pair of shoes than she had on her entire wardrobe? And it wasn’t as if he wouldn’t know that. It was a wonder he hadn’t let her flee while he’d had the chance. It was a wonder he hadn’t slammed the door in her face.
‘But you didn’t come here to compliment me on my footwear,’ he prompted, gesturing towards a sofa as he sprawled himself into a wide armchair, ‘I am curious to hear more—a marriage between you and me, but for Felipe? How does that work, exactly?’
She lowered herself down tentatively on the edge of the sofa, her heart racing with the possibilities. He wanted to hear more. Was he was simply curious, as he claimed, or was he actually entertaining her proposal? ‘You really want to know? You won’t laugh this time?’
‘You took me by surprise,’ he admitted with a shrug. ‘It is not everyday a woman asks me to marry her while at the same time claiming she would rather be torn apart by wild horses or eaten by sharks.’
She pressed her lips together, not bothering to deny she’d used those words, knowing he was poking fun at her and yet thoroughly disconcerted by his smile. He was good-looking even when he was angry, the strong lines of his face too well put together to be distorted by rage, but when he smiled he was absolutely devastating. ‘I’m sorry. It’s not every day that I ask a man to marry me.’
He nodded. ‘I’m flattered,’ he said, sounding anything but. ‘So tell me, what is this marriage all about? Why is it so necessary, you believe, to marry me? What are you trying to achieve?’
‘I want to make Felipe’s last days happy.’
‘You think you will make him happy by marrying the son of a man he was in dispute with almost his entire life?’
‘I believe it will make him happy to believe his vineyard is reunited.’ And when she saw her words made no impact on him, she continued, more passionately, this time. ‘Don’t you see, those vines you bought were Felipe’s life. And right now every time he looks out of his window he’s reminded of his mistake.