She had no memory of this man, despite the feeling, once or twice, that she’d seen his face before. Surely if they’d been intimate, she’d remember something?
Her cheeks burned at the thought of being his mistress. What did that entail? Sex on demand, pandering to his every whim? Fire swirled in her belly and she shifted on the padded seat.
Ally tried to imagine wearing glamorous gowns and jewellery, accompanying him to glittering parties. Tried and failed.
Or maybe—the thought made her insides churn—she’d been the sort of mistress to wear thigh-high leather boots and wield a whip.
Except one glance at that proud, stern face assured her that was unlikely. Angelo Ricci didn’t look the sort of man to cede power to anyone.
Her head spun. The thought of being intimate with Angelo Ricci unnerved her. Her gaze drifted from the stark male beauty of that disapproving face to wide shoulders and a powerful torso that even now, despite his attitude, made her wish for things she shouldn’t. Even his long-fingered hands looked capable and uncompromisingly masculine. As for those strong legs with their bunched thigh muscles straining the denim of his jeans...
Ally gulped as she felt a melting sensation between her legs. Something quivered into life deep inside.
She’d told herself she couldn’t imagine herself with this dour man. Yet really she could imagine it too easily. Could almost feel the brush of warm denim and hard muscle beneath the pads of her fingers. Her hands tickled at the thought of touching the olive skin of his forearms with their smattering of dark hair.
As for touching him elsewhere, and being touched by him...
She looked up abruptly and met his eyes. That angry expression was gone, replaced by an expression that made her blood sizzle in her veins. Those dark eyes glittered, alive with something that might have been hunger. Something heated and primal.
Except the next instant it had gone, leaving her feeling...bereft.
His unreadable stare made it clear she’d imagined that momentary blast of longing. Which was all too believable given her malfunctioning mind.
Ally chewed her lip, fighting to get her brain working again. She told herself any fancied attraction to Angelo Ricci was a product of that knock to her head. It couldn’t be real.
‘You said I was your mistress.’ She paused, hating the sourness on her tongue that the word invoked. She had to push herself to get the words out. ‘Are you saying you were married before to someone else and I was...with you then?’
His head reared back and the look he gave her was full of disdain. ‘Of course not. I’m an honourable man. I’d never break my vows and cheat on my wife.’
Ally’s shoulders slumped in relief. The thought of being the other woman in some love triangle was abhorrent. ‘So when you saymistress...?’
His nostrils flared, emphasising the finely chiselled shape of his nose. ‘Maybe you preferkept woman?’
No, she didn’t. She hated it.
He implied she’dsoldherself to him for money. What about her self-respect? Ally couldn’t imagine doing anything so venal.
On the other hand, who was she to say what she would have done? She had no memory. Only an instinctive distress at the idea of being any man’s paid sexual partner.
What did that mean? Was her mind playing tricks? Was the sensation that this was all wrong, that she couldn’t have done any of this, a subconscious effort at avoidance?
‘I see.’ Then on a burst of anger she blurted, ‘Your word choice says a lot about you.’
He raised his eyebrows in query. ‘You think?’
Ally nodded. ‘It’s deliberately demeaning. You could have saidgirlfriend,partnerorlover. Instead you chose to be insulting.’
Maybe she’d been an English teacher, spending her days finding meaning in the written word. Or maybe she was simply a woman not used to being insulted and dismissed. Either way, she was grateful for the flash of anger that strengthened her sinews.
She arched her own eyebrows and met his stare, noticing the flex of his jaw and the quick flick of his pulse, as if her needling had struck home. Good.
‘You’re right.’ He nodded stiffly, his discomfort obvious. ‘I’d never describe any other lover as my mistress. I’ve let our history colour my word choice.’
Her skin tightened. She wasn’t looking forward to hearing this, but she had to know. ‘Go on.’
‘We lived together in what we agreed would be a short affair. You preferred to live in luxury at my expense than work, whichdidmake you different to my previous lovers. I paid your way and you were particularly pleased when I bought you gifts.’
His tone suggested those gifts were expensive. Ally’s stomach dived. The more she discovered about her past, the more she wished it all a bad dream.