So Ann-Sophie turned away from Alessandro to the huddle of interpreters that had gathered in this corner of the room. She flashed Monique a smile and focused on the conversation as it wandered from local restaurant recommendations to beaches. When the string ensemble began to play, she forced herself not to look at the dance floor. The last thing that she wanted to see was Alessandro Carandini gracefully dancing—because, of course, he had mastered dancing the way he had mastered everything else—with another woman in his arms. Ann-Sophie smiled and laughed like everyone else, and as the conversation drifted from one language to another, she pretended that this ache inside her didn’t matter. When a colleague asked her to dance, she turned him down, telling him—and herself—that she was both ungraceful and not in the mood.
But as her thoughts drifted, she had clearly tuned out the people around her because, suddenly, she became aware that no one was speaking. Instead, everyone was looking just over her left shoulder. Startled out of her thoughts, she turned and immediately saw what had caught the groups’ attention. Alessandro Carandini was walking toward their corner of the room, and he was looking straight at her, as if he had been searching for her all night. Ann-Sophie’s body stilled as her heart took off in her chest. She swallowed, trying to break the spell, telling herself it was just a glance as he made his way around the room, entertaining dignitaries. Even though she could have sworn there was a flash of something more complicated in it. Even though he wasn’t looking away.
The closer he came, the more hope bubbled inside her, despite her best efforts to quash it. Alessandro did not seem to be headed for any of the other clusters of dignitaries nearby. He was making his way toward her. Whispers rustled from behind her, but as he came to a stop, so tantalizingly close, the whispers died. The whole scene should have felt silly, Ann-Sophie told herself, straight out of some teenage drama made for television, but it didn’t. It felt breathtakingly real.
Then Alessandro smiled, letting his eyes graze over the others before settling on her again. “Good evening.”
Just his voice, low and seductive, made her shiver. A murmur of greetings rippled behind her, but Alessandro’s gaze stayed on Ann-Sophie. “Would you care to dance?”
She should say no. Though no rules prohibited their dancing, it felt so brazen. So excessive. But her body didn’t care. It reacted with a jolt of giddy desire that scorched her brain of all rational thought and left her with a jumbled rush of sensations. Her silk dress brushed against her skin, making her aware of all the places she wanted his hands. On her hips. On her breasts. Between her legs. The heat from his dark eyes washed over her body, drenching her in desire.
Out of the corner of her eye, Monique’s gaze bore into her, a mix of confusion and accusation. But Ann-Sophie ignored the twinge of guilt, telling herself it didn’t matter right now, not when that familiar rush of joy ran through her limbs.
“I’m not much of a dancer,” she said, repeating the excuse she had given a more appropriate partner not ten minutes ago.
Alessandro’s smile was hot and intimate, despite the fact that they were very much not alone. “Thankfully, the dance police have gone home.”
If he hadn’t made her laugh, maybe she would have ignored the heat that washed over her when the Carandini twin famous for his short-lived flings had sidled up to her at the empty bar on her first night in Nice. But his laughably outrageous flirting had included questions about her flawless Italian, and somehow she had found herself trading anecdotes about language blunders, hers mostly, from adventures with her mother, and his, compliments of a Swiss boarding school and a Saudi girlfriend.
Her first night with Alessandro had unfolded so naturally that when the conversation had meandered into more intimate topics, the intensity of her desire surprised her. After a few high-profile affairs, he had a reputation as a satisfying partner, and she had assumed this reputation to be backed by some reality, but she hadn’t expected this to feel so…easy. Fun.
This one night of indulgence had proven addictive. When Alessandro let his gaze fall on her, it felt as if he was the sun, and she opened beneath his rays. There had been moments when he had opened for her, or at least it seemed that way. Afterward, she found herself dismissing them, telling herself that the magnetism he exuded was simply an aspect of his famous diplomatic skills, honed for his family’s manufacturing empire. She was just getting a very personalized introduction to the skills he used to negotiate deals, to keep onshore factories from closing. His reputation was legendary, particularly the way he had managed to convince CEOs to choose higher-cost options, gambling that the Made in Italy campaign would ultimately pay off in higher earnings. Still, their nights together had felt more singular than that. More private.
Now, as he stood close enough to touch, she was once again drawn in by the way Alessandro could bridge the distance that spanned between them. A distance of life experiences and social position that was far too wide to forget. And yet, his eyes sparkled with amusement, tempting her to forget.
“This feels like a bad idea,” she said, as the curious gazes prodded her from every direction.
Alessandro lifted a hand to his heart theatrically. “You wound me with your rejection.”
They both knew that these words were just for show. Alessandro never doubted that she would dance with him.
Still, she arched an eyebrow at him. “I should dance with you to save your tender ego?”
He shrugged with an arrogance that was just as real as it was self-mocking. “Is there a better reason?”
“What a charming offer,” she said with a little laugh.
But when she reached out to accept the hand he offered, another burst of giddy joy ran through her. She was almost sure she floated onto the dance floor instead of walked, as if the warmth of his large hand was the only thing that tethered her to the ground. Her face was flushed with heat, and she forced herself to keep her eyes on the floor in front of her, away from the prying eyes that certainly watched them from across the room.
“Just follow my lead,cara,” he said in her ear. The endearment sent a hot lick of desire through her. “I’ll take care of the rest.”
It was strange that even these words called to her, so unlike what she usually wanted. Guided by her mother, Ann-Sophie had thrived on making her own way in the world. And yet somehow, as she and Alessandro had shifted from flirting to…whatever this was, she had gotten used to him taking charge a bit more. It was a strange feeling she didn’t want to think about too much. So she didn’t.
Instead, she turned to face him. She placed her free hand on his muscular shoulder, and the heat of his skin through his shirt seemed to feed the heat that was building inside her. Someone had opened the French doors onto the patio, and the evening air wafted in, redolent with flowers. He slipped his hand around her waist and coaxed her close enough to see hints of circles under his eyes, even in the dim evening light.
“Our sleepless nights are starting to show,” she said, brushing her fingers over his sharp cheekbone. This gave her a little thrill, that she might have the power to influence this godlike man.
He flashed her a wicked smile. “Do I need to take you to bed and teach you some manners?”
She laughed, and a surge of happiness coursed through her, one she knew she should suppress. They were still here, in the ballroom.
“I thought we only did this under the cover of darkness,” she said. It was better for both of them not to give the impression of distraction at these high-stakes meetings. Now that the meetings were over, it mattered much less, though there would still be speculation.
He pulled back a little and eyed her with amusement. “You were looking at me across the room as though you were making late-night plans for us. I just had to hear what they were.”
She noted that he did not ask if she wanted to spend this last night together. He assumed. This may have rubbed her the wrong way if their future was more certain, but tonight, she only felt a surge of anticipation.
“I’m still not sure this is wise,” she said as they began to spin their way around past the crown prince and princess of Norway.
