It was as if that night, when she’d shared what happened with Ricardo and Fotis had believed her, a vital part of her had been torn away. A part that had protected her from responding too much to any man.
There’d been men in her life since that catastrophe in her teens, but only a few. Nowhere near the number the voracious press implied. She’d learned to be discriminating and cautious.
What she felt now, with Fotis, wasn’t cautious. It felt almost too big to hold inside. The thought of parting from him tomorrow created a poignant ache behind her ribs that was hard to bear.
It had become hardernotto react to his touch, or more correctly not to reveal her reaction. Dislike had disintegrated. Now she discovered that had been her only effective barrier against his brand of brooding charisma.
She hadn’t given him details of her experience, and he hadn’t pressed, only reiterating his apology for judging her. But after that there’d been no disdain, no judgement. She often caught him looking at her in a totally new way. She couldn’t read his thoughts but the weight of his gazefeltdifferent.
She’d discovered a man unlike the frigid enemy she’d thought him.
He cared deeply for his friends and sought to protect them. He was reserved rather than overtly charming, but that reserve hid a quick mind and a thoughtfulness that surprised her, particularly when dealing with people who seemingly had little in common with a hugely successful entrepreneur.
She’d begun to understand just how successful. He might keep a low public profile but after a week in his presence she’d been impressed by the number of powerful men and women who wanted to spend time with him. Clearly his opinions and his company’s services were valuable to governments and industry leaders.
A warm hand pressed against the small of her back, urging her forward as a waiter manoeuvred past with a tray. But when he’d passed, the large hand remained where it was, distracting her.
She shot Fotis a sideways look yet he didn’t remove his hand. Gleaming eyes locked with hers and lightning speared her. She felt effervescence in her bloodstream and a tingle in suddenly heavy breasts that strained at the black velvet of her bodice.
Her breathing shallowed and she sucked air through parted lips, moving restlessly under his touch.
His attention dropped to her rising breasts in her low-cut bodice. Rosamund shifted her weight, aware of dampness blooming at the apex of her thighs.
All week this smouldering awareness had been brewing. All week she’d fought it, nervous of the neediness he inspired in her. Now that neediness blossomed into raw hunger.
He bent his head, murmuring in her ear. ‘This is our last night in France. Do you want to spend the rest of it here?’
That velvet-over-gravel voice did appalling things to her self-control. Did he know?
But as he pulled back enough to meet her eyes she read his tension. It was in the broad frame of his shoulders and the tic of his pulse. His hand stroked a tiny circle low, low on her back and her buttocks tightened. She had to work not to flex her pelvis in response to that drugging touch.
You don’t want an affair. You barely know him.
But how long since any man made you feel this way?
Rosamund sucked in more air, shoring up her resolve becausenoman had ever made her feel like this. Not even in her teens when she’d imagined herself head over heels in love with a suitor who turned out to be a scumbag.
Whatever this was, it was phenomenally powerful.Thatwas what made it dangerous. Pursuing a relationship with him, however short, would be perilous to her peace of mind, no matter what her clamouring body said.
Did she really want a one-night stand with a man who’d awakened her in this way, knowing they’d separate tomorrow? He had business elsewhere and she was expected in Cardona, where hopefully she’d be safe until Ricardo was behind bars.
She stepped forward, forcing Fotis to drop his hand. It was the hardest thing she’d done in a long time. But it was for the best. Any entanglement with him threatened the placid, safe life she’d built.
‘I’m afraid it’s time we left,’ she said to their host. ‘It’s an early start tomorrow.’
Through the murmurs of protest and regret she was supremely aware of Fotis, frowning, beside her.
When they left the group she caught Fotis’ eye. ‘If you want to stay at the party feel free. A driver can take me to the hotel. I need to pack. I have a busy schedule from tomorrow.’
She didn’t explain that the schedule focused on her writing and she only had one royal engagement in the next few weeks. She could work almost anywhere. Including the Riviera, if she chose to accept the offer she’d heard in his voice and seen in those stunning eyes moments before.
‘Where you go, I go, Princess.’
Once again those words affected her more than they should. She wondered what it would be like if they signified more than a bodyguard’s determination to keep her safe.
Her neediness was only partly sexual. A week with Fotis Mavridis had scraped her bare of pretence, uncovering a powerful desire for affection. Partnership. Love. None of which she’d get from him.
That hadn’t mattered in the past, because she’d learned to be pragmatic in her expectations of relationships. Yet, despite the almost overpowering need to lose herself in the pleasure they could share, she baulked.
