She could see, as she looked round, why he had decided for them to wear evening dress. Her eyes widened. She’d never been in here, and she was astonished at its opulence. The huge glass table was edged with a gold metallic border, and an ornate chandelier festooned with crystals shone above. There seemed to be mirrors everywhere, and more glass and gold all around.
‘It’s a little overdone,’ said Rico wryly.
He led her to her place and saw her seated. Then he took his own place opposite her. Almost immediately came the soft pop of a champagne cork, and then one of the staff was filling her flute before performing a similar office for Rico.
He lifted the glass.
‘To us,’ he said softly, his long lashes sweeping down over his dark eyes, and yet again Lizzy felt the fluttering wings inside her taking flight.
The meal passed as if in a dream. The silent, swift staff placed dishes in front of her, then whisked them away unnoticed. One by one the array of glasses at her place were filled, and then removed. She must have eaten and drunk, she knew, and it must have been delicious. And yet food and drink were the last things on her mind.
Her eyes were held, entirely and only, by the man sitting opposite her.
She felt weak. Incapable of doing anything except drink him in. She must have talked, she must have said things, but her mind was a daze. Inside her veins, the wine creamed in her blood, infusing her with a strange wonder.
I just want to look at him.
Gaze and gaze.
She had never allowed herself to do so before. Had always dragged her eyes away from him. Never indulged herself. But tonight—tonight was different. She didn’t know why, didn’t question. Merely let herself do what she had wanted to do since the very first time she had ever set eyes on him, and felt the shock of her reaction go through her.
Then, it had been forbidden to her. Then, she had been someone who would never have been allowed to do what she was doing now.
But she wasn’t that person any more. She had been transformed, enchanted, into someone quite, quite different.
Someone who could gaze at him to her heart’s desire.
Because he was doing the same to her.
The butterflies swooped and soared. His eyes were holding hers, and she was breathless, completely breathless.
He was getting to his feet, standing up. Holding out his hand to her.
‘Come.’
It was all he said.
All he had to say.
She stood up. She could feel the silk rustling around her. She gathered the skirts into her fingers, making her way around the table to him. The strapless bodice clung to her, her hair brushed over her bare shoulders, her naked back.
He led her out into the hallway to the interior of the house. Opened another door and ushered her inside.
It was a bedroom.
And it was not hers.
He caught her shoulders, and turned her to him.
For one long, endless moment Rico gazed down at her, into those wide eyes, gazing up at him as they had gazed all evening.
How he had waited this long he did not know.
She hadn’t realised, he knew, that her looking at him like that had been a torment to him. That it had taken all his self-control not to push back his chair, stride around the table to her, lift her up and crush her to him.
But he had not done so. Not just because the staff had still been about their business, not just because the chef had produced a tour de force that evening and to abandon it halfway through would have been unthinkably inconsiderate. Not just because he had known that with the night to come both of them would require sustenance.
But because he had known that she needed time.