And he knew it.
Alessio Capelli had so much experience with women that it would have been impossible for him not to know and the slow lift of his brow confirmed it.
‘You have flown all the way from England just to talk to me? I didn’t realise you found my conversation so stimulating.’
Lindsay was trying hard to ignore his superior height and the width and power of his shoulders. She hadn’t needed a display of his boxing prowess to be aware of his strength. Strength was woven through his very being; an essential part of the man. Everyone who came up against him crumbled. Physically and mentally he was a titan.
And he made his living from using that strength against others.
Against women.
Suddenly she wished desperately that she could wind the clock back. If she could have done so, then she wouldn’t have chosen Rome for a city break and she definitely would have paid more attention to where she was walking late at night.
Indirectly this whole situation was her fault.
If she’d never met him he would have remained in her head as a professional adversary instead of a man. When their paths had crossed professionally she would have been wearing her protective cloak, instead of which—
‘I tried calling you from England,’ she said crisply, ‘but no one would put me through to you. I’ve travelled here purely because you’re impossible to get hold of. Your staff will never say where you are. How do your clients contact you?’
He wiped his hands on the towel. ‘If you were a client,’ he said evenly, ‘you would have been given a different number to call.’
The same number as his women? Dismissing that thought, Lindsay bit her lip. ‘I told them on the phone that I wanted to talk to you about a personal matter—’
‘Then it’s hardly surprising that they didn’t put you through. They know that I never discuss personal matters.’
‘I said it was urgent.’
‘Which they would have translated as meaning that you were a journalist working to a tight deadline.’ He looped the towel around his neck and Lindsay frowned slightly, wondering what it was like to lead the sort of life where everyone wanted to know everything about you.
‘That was why no one would answer my questions? Because they thought I was a journalist?’
‘I’ve trained my staff to be suspicious. A tiresome necessity driven by being in the public eye.’ A cynical smile on his face, he stooped to retrieve a bottle of water from the floor. ‘I’m intrigued as to what could possibly be important enough to drag you back into my disreputable presence. Hopefully you’ve finally decided to abandon those principles of yours and explore the endless pleasures of emotionless sex.’
‘Alessio—’
‘You’ve no idea how much I’m looking forward to getting you naked, tesoro.’ His dark drawl connected straight to her nerve endings and she felt a flash of heat low in her pelvis.
He was doing it on purpose, she knew he was. Trying to unsettle her.
‘You just can’t help yourself, can you?’ She struggled to keep her voice level. ‘You have to embarrass me.’
‘Mi dispiace,’ he purred, his eyes glinting wickedly. ‘I’m sorry—unfair of me, I know. It’s just that I just love watching you blush. Your cheeks are the same colour they will be after we’ve had frantic sex.’
‘That is never going to happen. Accept it.’
‘That shows how little you know me. I have a compulsive need to change situations that aren’t to my liking.’ He smiled—a slow, dangerous smile. ‘It’s called negotiation.’
‘Negotiation is when both parties get what they want—it’s supposed to be a win-win situation.’
‘I understand the winning bit—I’m not so good at accepting half a solution.’ His tone was gently apologetic but his dark eyes were as cool and unemotional as ever. ‘When I want something, I want all of it. Not part of it.’
Her heart was racing out of control and her thoughts were going in much the same direction. ‘You’re not my type, Alessio.’
‘That’s what makes it so exciting, tesoro.’ He was clearly enjoying teasing her, tying her in knots. ‘If your taste in men ran to dangerous divorce lawyers, it would be boring. The chemistry between us must be very inconvenient for you.’
The conversation had taken a dangerous direction.
It’s like sailing a ship through a storm, she thought wildly. Almost impossible to keep it from being blown off course.