‘What kind of knots can you do?’ His seemed deeper too, rougher.
‘All of them.’
‘All of them?’
Braving a quick glance upwards, she found that his eyes were heavy lidded as they met hers.
‘Just how many are there?’ he asked.
‘Eighteen that I know of.’
‘Eighteen.’ His eyes glittered down into hers. ‘Can you name them?’
‘Yes. Do you want me to?’
‘No.’ He gave a short laugh. ‘You’ve obviously done this before. Lucky guy.’
‘Mannequin.’ She adjusted the length of the tie and created a loop. ‘I dressed in-store mannequins part-time during high school.’
His lips twisted into a small smirk. ‘Lucky in-store mannequins.’
Poppy’s hand flattened against his chest as the tie slipped. She could feel his heart beating heavy and strong beneath his breastbone... Was that a shudder that just went through his big body?
All of a sudden she felt surrounded by his warmth, his deliciously male smell, and she had to swallow hard before speaking. ‘So, which one do you want?’ she asked thickly.
‘Just do a Windsor knot.’ The words seemed to rumble out of his chest.
‘That’s the one most men prefer,’ she said.
‘Are you calling me common, Miss Connolly?’
‘No.’ Poppy tugged a length of the tie through another loop, her heart beating twice as fast as usual. ‘It’s just that it’s the largest, and most men who wear neckties like to have a large knot.’
‘Most women probably like them to have a large knot as well.’ His voice was deep, his chest rising and falling evenly beneath her suddenly clumsy fingers. ‘Wouldn’t you agree?’
Deciding not to take this conversation any further for fear that he might actually be flirting with her, and it was the last thing she wanted, she concentrated on finishing the knot. ‘I wouldn’t know, Mr Castiglione. I don’t date men who wear ties.’ In fact she didn’t date period.
‘No?’
‘No.’
‘Then what do they wear?’
‘Nothing. That is they...’ Blushing furiously she folded his collar into place. ‘There. All done.’
‘A word of advice, Miss Connolly,’ he began, waiting for her to look up at him before continuing. ‘If you do happen to get a job here, don’t ever hand me a call without first finding out who it is.’
Remembering how upset the woman on the end of the phone had been, Poppy pursed her lips. ‘Not even if the person is crying?’
‘Especially if the person is crying.’
Shaking her head Poppy wondered if he was really as ruthless and heartless as he was reputed to be. Of their own accord her eyes drifted to his mouth. His lips were firm and chiselled without seeming hard. Rumour also had it that he knew how to make a woman go wild in bed, and she wondered if his mouth would be rough or soft if she reached up and kissed him.
Instantly another fierce blush suffused her face as she registered the insanely inappropriate impulse, making her flustered. ‘Why were you holding my wrist before anyway?’ she asked belligerently. ‘When you were on the phone?’ He’d been stroking her skin so tenderly she could still feel the impression of his fingers against her skin.
‘I don’t really know.’ His gaze flitted over her face, his green eyes hot and hungry. Poppy blinked, unable to look away. She was used to men noticing her, finding her attractive even, but she wasn’t used to this answering heat rise up inside of her. She wasn’t used to this overwhelming urge to...
‘Scusa, Sebastiano, sono in anticipo?’