The Italian's Bedroom Deal (3 page)

“That would indicate more competition,” he challenged. “Not a good target, my dear.”

Her smile turned mischievous. “Ah, one would think,” she laughed, shaking her head. “But I have it on good authority that someone bought out a major supplier for Lexor and it caused a small disruption in their laboratory. Not good for Lexor’s stock prices, I’m guessing.”

“Where did you hear such awful things?” he asked, his eyes lit with his amusement and enchantment.

“Oh,” she lifted her hand from his broad shoulder, waving it in the air for a moment before returning to the original place. “Maybe a little birdie told me,” she said airily. “Or maybe it was in the papers about three months ago.”

Max laughed again. “You read too much,” he said and swung her about.

They were interrupted a moment later by a business acquaintance of Max’s wanting to talk and Clarissa tried to escape, intending to give him a bit of privacy, but he wouldn’t allow it. He kept her by his side, keeping her in the conversation while he mingled with the other guests. Clarissa tried not to let the warmth of his hand covering hers seep into her body but she couldn’t help the sparkle of hope that flared when he kept her by his side. That had to mean something, didn’t it?

Several hours later, Clarissa was thrilled, terrified and almost shaking with anticipation. Max had been so solicitous all evening, making sure she had a fresh drink, bringing her around the party with her on his arm, as if they had arrived together, and would soon leave together. He ensured she was included in all the conversations and even showed his admiration for her conversational gambits on several occasions.

And what was even better, there had been several times he’d pulled her closer, his hand resting easily on her waist when a waiter passed or someone tried to slip behind them and the space was too tight. Those moments were wonderful and each time, she almost snuggled closer to his strong, muscular chest, inhaling his spicy cologne and his enticing, masculine scent.

When she started to fade, he noticed her fatigue and immediately offered to walk her to her small house. As they made their way to her small cottage, Clarissa’s body started shaking. She wasn’t sure if it was due more to fear or excitement, but she was determined to go through with this plan. She just hoped Max didn’t feel her trembling. She couldn’t imagine what he might think of her if he could feel how nervous she was.

“Thank you for walking me back to my house,” Clarissa said, her eyes looking up into his hopefully. “Would you like to come in for a drink?” she asked then berated herself. Why on earth would the man want to come in for a drink at her place when he could have a much better offering in both quality and quantity fifty feet away at her father’s party?

“I don’t think so, but I appreciate the offer.” He lifted her hand to his lips and gently kissed her fingers. “Thank you for the dance and for the company. I apologize for monopolizing your time but I feel honored that you gave me the privilege.”

Clarissa’s fingers tingled where his lips had touched. She wanted to pull him inside and show him what she wanted from him. But she didn’t have that kind of courage. “You’re welcome,” she replied, wishing she could come up with something else to say. Something that would hold him here, until she built up enough courage to ask him her question.

“I’ll leave you to your beauty sleep,” he said, lifting her hand once again to kiss her fingers goodbye. Without another word, he turned on his heel and left, disappearing into the darkness of the shade trees for a moment, and then reappearing at the edge of the patio. He turned right at that moment and looked back, waving to her before entering the party fray once more.

Clarissa sighed, her shoulders drooping in defeat. She went into her cottage and pulled the drapes, trying to shut out the party but the cottage wasn’t very well insulated so she could hear the music no matter what she did. From experience, she knew that the party would continue until the wee hours of the morning and she’d be unable to sleep while it lasted. She could go into the big house and curl up in one of the guest rooms and she wouldn’t hear a thing since the house was hermetically sealed and sound proofed. But she didn’t want to rely on her father for anything. Even if it was only a good night’s sleep.

She pulled off the dress and grabbed a pair of comfortable jeans and an old tee-shirt, not bothering with a bra since no one was around to see her. Slipping out into the night, she found her favorite bench and sat down, watching the party with only half her mind while the other half built fantasies starring her favorite Italian businessman. None would come true, she told herself but it was nice to think about him falling in love with her, falling to his knees to profess his love and undying dedication to her.

Clarissa snorted. Not likely, she thought to herself as she watched him talk to a beautiful blond woman who draped herself against him. How was she supposed to compete with someone like that? She had brown hair, pretty eyes and a nothing to talk about figure. If he were to choose between her slim shape or the woman with the enormous breasts that were practically coming out of her dress, she could figure out which way he would lean.

She wanted to scream out or run over to the massive-boobed woman and tear her arms off of him. But she did neither. She simply crossed her arms over her own chest and sank deeper into the darkness. Thankfully, Max and the woman moved out of sight so she wasn’t tormented anymore.

Chapter 2

Max stifled an irritated groan when Belinda pushed herself against him. Would the woman never quit? Belinda Myers had been hounding him for an affair for over two months and he’d turned down her not so subtle hints so many times, he was sure she would get the picture.

Obviously, he’d have to be more specific.

His mind drifted back to the other, more beautiful woman he’d held in his arms earlier in the evening and wished she were still here. He’d like to talk with her more, dance with her again. But then he was reminded of her sweet, innocent face and the look in her eyes that told him she wanted him. His body hardened instantly, painfully at just the idea of taking her soft, sexy, slender body to bed. But she was definitely off limits. There were women a man could enjoy but Clarissa was in the marrying category and he was not in the market for a wife. Perhaps in a few years, he thought. His mother had been nagging him for grandchildren for a while now.

No, Clarissa Montgomery was not a casual affair kind of woman. Her mind worked in different ways and he could only consider her in one light and it was not for the pleasure of the moment. But he knew instinctively that she would be immensely pleasurable. Her soft curves and the way she fit in his arms as well as the sweet, enticing expression on her face told him that she wouldn’t be cold in bed. Yes, perfect wife material. In a few years, he reminded himself, groaning as his body ached with the need to possess a woman he shouldn’t even be thinking about in a sexual way.

Once he’d extricated himself from the limber and tenacious Belinda, he looked around the party. He’d been hoping to discuss a business issue with James but he was tied up with friends and Max didn’t want to disturb him.

Setting his glass on the table behind him, he waved at James, indicating he would be leaving.

The valet brought his car around and he couldn’t help as his eyes glanced over at the small cottage at the edge of the estate. She was there, sleeping in the bed covered with the chintz quilt he’d seen through the windows as he’d dropped her off. She was probably all soft and warm and most likely sexy as hell. Max cursed under his breath as his body instantly reacted to the image. It was more painful this time and he had to close his eyes and concentrate to get his body under control. He hadn’t been this impatient for a woman since he was a teenager, he realized.

Maybe it was just the idea that she was off limits that was making him want her so much. Perhaps it was her sweetness that was refreshing after being amongst the bitter, mercenary and not so scrupulous business acquaintances floating around at most of the gatherings he attended. He probably just needed to get home to his village in Sicily and ground himself with his mother and sister, he thought.

So why was it that he turned off the driveway leading to the street and headed toward the small carriage house instead of driving himself back into the city to his own place? He had no idea, but was startled when he caught a glimpse of his prey with the headlights. She wasn’t sleeping, he realized and ignored the jolt of sexual anticipation he felt as he turned off the powerful engine.

Stepping out of his car, he could still hear the noise from the party and understood why she was out here in the cool night air instead of tucked away in her bed where she should be. Somewhere safe from his prying eyes.

“What are you doing out here, piccola?” he asked as he rounded the car and walked toward her.

Clarissa blinked. He was here? Max was here and walking toward her? Was it just her mind playing tricks on her once again or was this real?

He certainly felt real, she thought as his large frame sat down next to her. His long, muscular arm rested against the back of the bench, part of his sleeve touching her back and she wanted desperately to lean into him and feel his warmth.

“I can’t sleep during these events,” she explained, butterflies were rippling through her stomach and she felt weak, glad for the bench which hid her nervousness. “What are you doing here? Why aren’t you up at the party having a good time?”

He smiled and took a lock of brown hair that had been laying against her shoulder, rubbing the silky tresses between his fingers. “Because you left. It was boring after that,” he said, a charming, sexy smile forming across a mouth that usually looked hard so it shouldn’t be sexy.

Her eyes widened as she stared up at his handsome face while her breath became trapped in her throat. “Oh,” was all she could say. She cleared her throat and sat up straighter, but kept her arms crossed over her chest, painfully aware that she wasn’t wearing a bra. The thin tee-shirt showed everything to his knowing eyes.

“Why did you leave the party if you weren’t tired?” he asked gently.

Clarissa looked down at her hands which were on her up drawn knees. “I don’t really fit into that kind of event.”

“I disagree. I think you’d be perfect at any event.”

Clarissa laughed softly. “You’re just being nice.”

Max grimaced. “I don’t think I’ve ever met a person who would describe me as nice.”

She was startled by that revelation, her eyes snapping back to his to gauge if he was teasing her. The look on his face told her he was completely serious. “Then they don’t know you very well.” She saw the honesty and intelligence, even in the darkness. And the man had always been excruciatingly kind to her. She bit her lip as the thought popped into her mind that she wished he wasn’t so kind. If he’d bend his rules just a little, she might be curled up against him, finally understanding what passion was about.

Max could contradict her, knowing that many of his acquaintances would not consider him nice in any way. In fact, the most polite term anyone had used to describe him was “merciless” when it came to business. Women might be a little kinder, but even the ladies wouldn’t apply that adjective to his character. He didn’t contradict her though. He found that he liked the idea that she thought he was nice. Although he grimaced at the tame description. There were many things he wanted her to feel about him but nice was adequate for now. Later, when they were married, he’d work on other descriptions, he promised himself.

His mouth formed a half smile, showing his cynicism better than words could do. “I think you’re a very sweet person.”

Clarissa’s head fell back and she sighed heavily. “I know.”

Max chuckled. “Is that a bad thing?” he questioned, his eyes glancing at her long, slender neck. He imagined bending down and kissing her, just at the base where her pulse beat delicately against her satin skin. Max’s body, already hard and primed, didn’t like the temptation so he forced his eyes to move higher. That didn’t help much, since his eyes were resting on her sweet, kissable mouth.

She didn’t answer for a moment but finally said, “I don’t want to be sweet or nice or any of those adjectives. I want to be….”

“What?” he prompted when she didn’t continue.

“Sexy,” she whispered. “And possibly sophisticated, glamorous, beautiful.” She grimaced. “All those lovely adjectives that indicate a man is interested.” Clarissa was grateful for the darkness which hid the blush she knew would be coloring her cheeks. Blushing definitely wasn’t sophisticated and glamorous and she couldn’t remember anyone saying that a red face was beautiful.

After a long, stunned silence, Max couldn’t stop the laughter that bubbled up inside his chest. “I think those terms would be very applicable to you.”

Clarissa rolled her eyes. “There you go again, being nice.”

Max shook his head. “You don’t look in the mirror very often, do you?”

“I try to avoid it,” she replied, her eyes focusing on her nails. She didn’t want to look at his face, fear of seeing the pity she knew would be present.

Max took her hand in his, forcing her eyes to look back up at him. He waited until her soft, brown eyes were looking into his own before he said, “Then perhaps you should start. You’re very pretty, Clarissa. Just because a man doesn’t maul you, doesn’t mean he’s not interested.”

She prayed that he couldn’t feel the tremors in the hand he held but she was too shy to hold his gaze during such a frank discussion. “I won’t argue the point since I don’t have enough experience to do so.”