His Reluctant Lover (3 page)

“Mr. Alfieri,” Georgette started to say but as she turned around, she caught the horrible man staring at her derriere!  Whatever she’d been about to say was lost as she glared at the man.  Never had she been subjected to such despicable behavior!  But when her eyes narrowed, showing him her anger, his grin only widened.  Then he winked at her!  Of all the outrageous things to do!  She was speechless! 

Turning back, she continued on towards the dining room, refusing to acknowledge the man again.  Once in the dining room, she took her seat, ignoring him as he held her chair out for her.  Her grandfather sat at the head of the elaborately set table while the obnoxious Yankee seated himself across from her.  She knew she wouldn’t be allowed to ignore him during the entire meal, but she gave herself several moments to just calm her nerves while she settled her napkin over her lap and nodded for the servants to begin serving dinner. 

As they brought out the soup, she decided to find out as much information as she could on the man.  Information meant power, as her grandfather taught her.  “Mr. Alfieri, where are you from?  Originally?”

“My family lives in Virginia,” he explained, taking a sip of the soup. 

“Really?” she asked, perking up.  “From the Northern Virginia area?  Or further south?”

Dylan knew exactly what she was asking.  Northern Virginia was a much more urban area with a diverse population from around the world.  The towns outside of the metro area had a distinctly different culture, with a more southern flair. 

“We grew up in a small town in central Virginia but I spent most of my summers in Milan.”  He chuckled at the obvious disappointment.  “Sorry.”

She rallied well.  “No need to apologize, Mr. Alfieri.” At least he was from central Virginia, she thought.  That was something.  It made him a wee bit southern, so perhaps his manners were just…missing tonight. 

“So what are the exciting social events coming up in the near future?” Dylan asked and watched as Georgette’s creamy white skin turned a lovely shade of pink. 

She pretended nothing was amiss though.  “There is the black and white ball tomorrow night to raise money for the historical society.”  She carefully laid her spoon beside her soup bowl.  “I don’t suppose you have your tuxedo available on such short notice?”

He almost laughed out loud at her hopeful expression.  “Since you’re being so generous with your time, I will ensure that I am appropriately attired for the event,” he replied.

Georgette worked hard to hide her flare of irritation at his reply.  She’d been sincerely hoping she’d have a reprieve for at least one night, and maybe even longer.  It was hard to get a good tuxedo on short notice.  Those things needed to be tailored in order to have any style.  Alas, she supposed she was going to have a gauche escort in a mediocre tuxedo. 

Tossing aside her frustration, she went on to discuss several other parties and charity functions that were happening over the next few weeks, explaining the people who would be there and why it might be beneficial for him to meet each person.  Dylan was impressed with her knowledge of the business atmosphere and how all the companies connected to each other as well as how all the families were interconnected.  The salad course came and went, and the entrée was delicious.  And throughout the entire meal, Georgette was able to maintain a conversation, sidestepping any controversial subjects.  He was more than a little impressed with her social grace and poise.  She was sexy as hell, smart, well versed on just about any subject, and beautiful. 

He loved her hair.  The auburn color sparkled like stars from the candlelight and there was a curl that kept dancing down onto her forehead.  She would push it back into place, but whenever she became riled about something or she was about to put him in his place, that curl would dance forward again.  It was almost as if that curl had become a barometer for her mental state.  When she forced herself to calm down, the curl stayed put with the rest of her lovely, auburn tresses.  But when he said something to annoy her or she thought of a good zinger, it would spring forward, giving him a warning that she was about to let loose on that spirited temper she was trying valiantly to hide. 

As the dessert was being served, the butler whispered something in Philip’s ear and he nodded.  “I apologize, but would you excuse me?  An urgent matter needs my attention.”

Dylan couldn’t smother his laughter as he watched Georgette’s horror at being left alone with a man she obviously despised.  The curl bounced onto her forehead again, giving him ample warning that she was practically vibrating with nervous energy now.  When the door closed behind the older man, Dylan waited for her attention to return to him.  But she wouldn’t look at him, preferring to stare at the elaborate dessert that had been placed in front of her.  She didn’t pick up her fork.  She didn’t introduce another topic of conversation.  There was just silence and an almost painful stillness about her lovely, pale features. 

“I won’t bite,” Dylan finally said, watching her intently and appreciating her silk-like skin and elegant neck. 

Georgette’s eyes snapped up to his.  “I didn’t think…” and she stopped.  “Oh.  You were teasing,” she sighed.  Picking up her fork finally, she played with the food on the delicate china plate. 

Dylan stood up and walked around the table, taking her hand gently but firmly in his own.  She resisted, but he was relentless. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” she demanded, trying to pull her hand away but he held it in his, refusing to relinquish his hold. 

Pulling her up, he stood next to her, holding her hands.  “We got off on the wrong foot,” he told her softly, looking down into those expressive, hazel eyes.  “I’m sorry.”

She fidgeted, uncomfortable with the subject, not wanting to acknowledge anything about this evening.  Tossing her chin a bit higher, she forced a smile.  “For what?” she asked, pretending nothing had happened.  Acknowledging his rudeness would only add to the embarrassment. 

He smiled at her resistance to anything uncomfortable.  She was a true southern belle, he thought with increasing appreciation.  “For appreciating a beauty that is almost sinfully alluring,” he replied.  “For looking at all of your loveliness while your grandfather was present.  For staring at your incredibly gorgeous…” he was going to say lips but she smacked a hand over his mouth, not letting him continue. 

Those hazel eyes fired up and he instantly knew that his apology had been taken the wrong way.  Although, perhaps it wasn’t the best apology, he thought with humor. 

“I did not notice you staring at my bottom, Mr. Alfieri.  And if you say that you were, then you are not a gentleman.  And a gentleman is the only type of man that I allow to escort me to functions.  So…” she took her shaking hand away, sucked in a deep breath and shook her head slightly.  Georgette then smiled once again, forcing her face back to what she hoped was a serene expression, then pushed the errant curl back into her coiffure and pulled all of her dignity around her like a protective, insulating cloak.  “Let’s just move on, shall we?  We have many evenings in each other’s company.  We should keep a clear head on our shoulders and I will help you accomplish your goals quickly and expeditiously.” 

Dylan thought about contradicting her command, of offering his own version of what was going on between them.  But the look in her eyes told him that she was on the edge.  If he pushed her too hard, she might just…well, he wasn’t sure what she might do. 

Maybe it would be a good idea to push her.  He’d really like to see what would happen when he got her to the edge. 

Clearing his throat, he shoved that thought aside.  Erotic fantasies were not conducive to putting her at ease.  And he suspected that he would have to reassure her of his good intentions before he clarified that her instincts about him had been right on target.  Yes, he would push her over the edge.  Right into bliss.  Over and over again, but he had to be careful with her.  She was more delicate than the other women of his acquaintance.  But he also suspected that she was stronger than she looked.  An exciting mix of elegance, strength, gentleness, dignity and gentility all packaged up in an alluring package of womanhood.

“As you wish,” he told her, but he had other plans.  The first of which was to lull her into feeling more comfortable around him.  He wanted her.  That they would be lovers, he had no doubt.  And what’s more?  He could feel her wanting him as well. 

It was going to be an interesting visit into this gracious southern city!

The following evening, Georgette held her breath as Dylan Alfieri walked up to her door.  Watching him through the window of her formal living room, what her grandfather called a ‘parlor’, caused all of her female hormones to go into overdrive.  He was so tall!  So incredibly well-built!  She couldn’t believe the man was real.  Dylan Alfieri was the kind of man one saw on the movie screen after the film had been edited and the muscles, shoulders and what-not, had been buffed up and improved.  How could this man be real?

And why had she agreed to be his escort?  He was nothing like the men she preferred to date.  Charles, her boyfriend, was kind and considerate.  He would never, ever, look at her in an inappropriate manner!  And this man had done it on their first meeting.  She hadn’t even been lulled into thinking he might be a gentleman. 

The doorbell rang and she swallowed painfully as she turned to look at the inadequate piece of wood that separated her from the man who scared her right down to her toes because of the strange, unsuitable ideas that popped into her mind whenever she looked at him.  Unfortunately, there was no getting out of the night. 

Taking a deep breath, she walked carefully to the front door, praying that she didn’t trip in these shoes.  She’d worn heels that were slightly higher than she was used to, hoping a bit more height would give her confidence.  Her feet were already hurting and she prayed she wouldn’t regret this silly instance of vanity. 

Opening the door, she started to utter a greeting, but the words froze on her lips as she took in the tall, handsome man.  She’d watched him walk to her door so there was absolutely no reason why he should affect her like this.  But there was a significant difference between Dylan at a distance and Dylan up close.  A huge, no-pun-intended difference.  Or maybe the pun should be intended in this instance because the man was really big and tall! 

“You look incredible,” he said with a voice that was as smooth as honey.  The look in his eyes would have that honey boiling, she thought.

Smoothing down the white and black silk of her dress, she took a deep breath, trying to gather her thoughts once again. 

“Thank you,” she replied, forcing her lips to move, to form the words.  It took concentration because it was hard to pull her mind away from the awe inspiring sight of his shoulders in that immaculate tuxedo.  “You didn’t need to go out and buy a suit for tonight, did you?” she asked, but she already knew the answer.  That tuxedo was tailor made for him.  The perfect lines, the excellent fabric and cut all screamed out hand-made. 

His deep chuckle sent waves of something she was afraid to define throughout her whole body.  “You look disappointed,” he said out loud.  But disappointment hadn’t been her initial reaction.  His body was still reacting to the heated glance she gave him a moment after she’d opened the door. 

Or maybe his body was hardening because of the incredible dress she was wearing.  It wasn’t that it was risqué.  The white panels on the front with the black stripes down the sides were supposed to make a woman’s figure look thinner.  But on her, it only enhanced her curves, showed how full her breasts were and how tiny her waist.  “You seem slightly taller tonight,” he said, trying to find something to put her at ease as well as focus on something other than how lush her breasts looked in that dress so his body would calm down. 

“Perhaps you simply misjudged me yesterday,” she said, hiding the blush that she could feel suffusing her neck and cheeks. 

Dylan held out his arm for her, trying to hide his amusement and his lust.  “I doubt that I misunderstood anything from last night.  Higher heels?” he suggested and almost burst out with laughter when she laid just the tips of her fingers on his arm, not daring any other touch. 

“Do I make you nervous, Georgette?” he asked as he escorted her to the limousine, holding the back door for her as she slipped onto the luxurious leather seat. 

“Of course not,” she asserted, looking away and smoothing her gown over her knees.  “I don’t know why you would think that.  I don’t have feelings for you in any way.  You’re just an assignment from my grandfather.”

He laughed again, taking her hand as he slid in next to her.  “Ah, now you’re just challenging me.”

Her eyes snapped up to his even while she tried to pull her fingers away.  “I did not challenge you, sir!” she came right back, the southern drawl making the exclamation sound much more indignant. 

“Of course you did.  You said you don’t feel anything for me and yet, you’re trembling even now simply because I’m holding your hand.”

She made a disgusted sound and turned her head forward, refusing to look at him.  “I am only trembling because it is cold inside this vehicle.  Not because of your touch.”

“I see,” he replied.  Moving closer, he leaned down to her ear, his deep voice making her stomach quiver as he said, “Can you imagine what your trembling will be like when I touch more than just your hand?”

She looked up at him, her hazel eyes searching his, fear and something much more intense caused her eyes to move from his, downward to his lips.  Unfortunately, her mind was wondering what it would be like to be kissed by him. 

When that thought coalesced in her mind, she pulled back abruptly, not wanting to think further on the possibility.  “There won’t ever be more than a casual, polite touch between us, Mr. Alfieri.”  She scooted over a bit, creating space between her and his overly tall, muscular body. 

“Ah.” 

She glanced back up at him, not liking the sound of that “Ah” at all.  “What’s that supposed to mean?” she demanded. 

He shrugged and winked down at her indignant expression, moving her hand lower on his thigh.  “Another challenge.  I accept.”

She gasped, both from his words as well as the strong, muscular thigh he was forcing her to feel because he wouldn’t give her any space.  And it felt way too nice!  “You can’t honestly consider everything I say to be a challenge!  That’s ridiculous.”  She was nervous because she sensed a deep determination in this man.  He didn’t like being told what to do, didn’t like her throwing his words back at him.  Not at all.  She was playing with fire and she was afraid of the burn.  Terrified of it actually. 

But at the same time, she couldn’t seem to stop.  The words just seem to tumble out of her even when she was trying very hard to remain aloof and unaffected. 

“I think you are a delightful challenge,” he retorted.  “And I never leave a challenge alone.”

She glared back at him. “So not only my words irritate you but my entire being does?”

He chuckled.  “I would never apply what I feel for you as irritation.”  He moved slightly closer.  “Do you want me to describe my feelings?”

“NO!” she gasped, pulling back slightly.  She suddenly realized where her hand was, still on his thigh, high enough up that it could only be interpreted as intimate.  Not only that, she was clenching his thigh as if she were interested. 

She was looking down at her hand for a long moment, her mind telling her to pull away while her body had a completely different reaction. 

“Don’t move your hand,” he commanded, even placing his own firmly on top of hers.  “I like it right there.”

She shook her head, her fingers trying to slip out from underneath his hand.  “This is wrong.  I’m seeing someone else.”

A strange and sudden fire, different from a moment ago, leapt into his eyes.  “Break it off with him,” he told her with a strange, unexpected burst of anger. 

She pulled back, relieved when he released her hand.  “I won’t.  Charles and I have been dating for several months.  We’re very compatible.”  This was safer ground.  She understood Charles and could converse with him politely, even if it was with this….ungentlemanly person escorting her to the gala. 

“In what way?” he asked, brutally suppressing his instinct to fight for her.  The man wasn’t around but he restrained his fury enough so he could at least think.  Tactics in a battle had always been one of his strengths. 

She shrugged her shoulders.  “In every way.  He and I share the same interests, opinions, friends and we just agree on so many things.  He is a very kind and gentle man.  He respects me and would never approach me or treat me like you have been doing for the past two nights.”  That last comment should have put him in his place and cowed him.  But the satisfied look in his eyes told her that she had failed miserably. 

All the fury that had been tightening his body was suddenly released.  “He sounds like a dud.  You’ll have to get rid of him.”

Her mouth dropped open, so surprised that he would suggest such a thing.  “I certainly will not!” Dylan was supposed to back down, to respect the fact that she was seeing a man that she might marry.  Had she not implied that possibility well enough?  How could he dismiss Charles so easily?  Dylan just didn’t make sense.  He didn’t follow the rules! 

Dylan sat back, a smug look on his face.  “That’s okay.  You’ll be bored with him pretty soon anyway.  He can’t make you feel a fraction of what I can so you’ll dump him.  I give you a week.”

Georgette was practically choking on her frustration and anger.  How dare he suggest such a thing! 

“We’re here,” he said, interrupting the tirade that was about to burst out of her.  She quickly looked out the window and saw that he was right.  The limousine had just pulled up outside of the hotel where the black and white ball was to be held. 

Since the door was efficiently opened by the smiling doorman, she had to stifle her anger and paste a polite smile onto her face.  Dylan stepped out first, then extended his hand to help her out.  Georgette stared at the hand, then looked up at the man, wondering how she could politely ignore his aid.  In the end, her manners had been too tightly ingrained and she gently placed her hand in his. 

Dylan was surprised she’d accepted his help.  He knew he’d really pushed her buttons a moment ago, but he’d been riding a high of relief that she was dating such an upstanding, tediously boring specimen of manhood.  He instinctively knew that Georgette wasn’t the type of woman who would want to be with a man that didn’t stimulate her on many levels, including the intellectual.  And he couldn’t wait to prove it to her. 

“Have I mentioned how lovely you look?” he asked as he tucked her hand onto his elbow, covering it with his other hand so she couldn’t pull away.  The rest of the world might as well know that she wasn’t still attached to her dud of a boyfriend. 

Georgette ignored him and looked around for her friends, needing an escape from his closeness.  “Let’s head over that way,” she told him when she spotted a group of them in the corner by the orchestra that was softly playing.

They walked across the room and, thankfully, the ballroom was empty enough now that they could easily move.  It wouldn’t be that way in another hour or two.  These events were the way to see and be seen in New Orleans and everyone tried to get tickets to these galas. 

“Mark, Jennifer,” she said as soon as she stepped up to a group of her friends.  All of them turned and looked, some surprised and some simply pasting a polite smile on their faces as they tried to figure out why Georgette was here with someone other than Charles, the man she’d been dating for several months. 

Jennifer leaned forward and gave Georgette a slight hug.  “Hi!  It’s about time you got here,” she laughed.  “We’ve been wondering where you’ve been lately.”

“She’s been working on her designs, dear,” Mark, Jennifer’s husband, said as he too leaned forward and gave her a hug.  “You look great,” he told her before stepping back and putting his arm around his wife again. 

Both of them quickly looked to Dylan who was standing slightly behind her, but there was no way Dylan could ever be considered second.  He was too tall and just too darn intimidating.  “This is Dylan Alfieri,” she explained.  “I’m escorting him around for a few nights to introduce him to everyone as a favor for my grandfather.” 

With that, Mark and Jennifer both nodded their heads, both relief and still some confusion in their expressions. 

Mindy Martin pushed forward, pulling her husband, Tom, right behind her.  “Did you say Dylan Alfieri?” she asked, her bright, vivacious smile looking up at Dylan’s tall frame.  “Goodness, I’ve read so much about you!  Did you really build that complex on the side of the mountains in Colorado?”

Dylan laughed, taking Mindy’s hand with old-style chivalry.  “If you’re referring to the Mountain Pass Estates, then yes.  We built into the side of the rocks which reinforced the stability of the houses.”

Tom shook Dylan’s hand.  “I heard it was one of your more successful communities.  Who thought up the idea?”

Dylan, Tom and Mindy started talking shop since Tom and Mindy were both architects.  Jennifer and Mark pulled back slightly, watching the other three.  “Where did you get him and why didn’t you tell me you were bringing someone so yummy tonight?” Jennifer asked, ignoring her husband’s teasing poke.  “Oh, like you wouldn’t dump me if Cindy Crawford walked in tonight,” she teased right back.  Georgette chuckled at Tom’s agreement and Jennifer turned back.  “So spill it.  What’s going on?  Did you dump Charles?”

Georgette quickly shook her head, not wanting any confusion over her relationship with Dylan.  She wanted everyone to understand that she and Dylan were simply acquaintances.  “Charles is out of town on business.  And no, we haven’t broken up.  I’m just doing a favor for my grandfather.”