He got to his feet, apparently oblivious to the stares of every woman in the room. His gaze was fixed unerringly on Alice. She felt it like the stroke of one large hand sliding across her cheek, down her throat and settling like a warm weight around her.
His face was impassive, utterly unreadable, yet her heart thrummed impossibly fast as she met that penetrating stare.
He wore a crisp white shirt, golden cufflinks at his wrists. His black hair gleamed in its perfect cut. Against the rich olive skin, his eyes were bright as the Mediterranean on a hot summer day. Or maybe that was Alice, her temperature rising as he prowled towards her with the lithe, concentrated grace of a natural predator.
She swallowed and backed a step, only to find her heels rapping the kitchen door. Another staff member was trying to come out and Alice stumbled forward.
Hard hands caught her. Hands that felt appallingly familiar. Her dreams were peppered with vignettes of those hands, and that amazing body, doing the most wondrous things to her.
‘Alice.’ His low voice was a wash of heat across her skin. ‘We need to talk.’
‘Not here.’ She was conscious of the curious stares, not only from customers. The back of her neck prickled and she guessed the other staff were craning for a view of the Greek god who’d descended into their midst. He looked as out of place amongst the farmhouse chic and cream teas as a lynx in a litter of tabby cats.
‘No, not here.’
Two minutes later they were on the narrow pavement and his hand was still on her elbow as he led her towards a classic vintage sports car.
Alice stopped short, her sensible shoes gripping the cobblestones. ‘No. I don’t want to go in your car.’
He arched one jet eyebrow, his face impassive. ‘You’d rather have our discussion here?’
Other pedestrians brushed past, hurrying as the damp, fog-laden air pressed down on them. From the corner of her eye she saw faces in the bow windows of the café turned towards them. Adoni Petrakis was the biggest thing to hit town in a century or two. No doubt everyone was wondering what he was doing with someone as ordinary as Alice.
‘There’s no need for a discussion. We can agree to go our separate ways.’ Even as she said it, Alice knew it wouldn’t work. Adoni looked as immovable as the tors on Dartmoor.
He didn’t bother to reply, merely raised that other winged brow in silent query.
Alice shivered and pulled her thin jacket tight round her. The weather had changed for the worse since she’d arrived this morning, taking her by surprise. Which showed how distracted she was. Normally she was far more organised.
Alice suspected the chill she felt owed little to the gloomy weather and more to nerves.
Adoni moved abruptly, swinging his jacket around her shoulders, enveloping her in cashmere warmth and a tantalising aroma of cedar wood and male skin. She shivered again and this time she feared it was with sheer sensual delight.
‘You look exhausted. I’ll take you home.’ Then he was opening the car door and ushering her in and Alice found any inclination to object had fled. Was she so easily seduced by the promise of physical comfort? Or, worse, by this man who viewed her as a gold-digger?
Maybe exhaustion had overcome caution.
She should have realised she couldn’t just walk away from him. He’d want absolute certainty the child wasn’t his. Even though he clearly didn’t want a child, Adoni Petrakis was too definite, too emphatic to leave anything to chance, especially the possibility he’d fathered a baby.
He got into the car, filling the space with his long body and her senses with his presence. The air seemed to crackle with an excess of energy and the fine hairs on her body stood to attention. Alice bit her lip and looked out of the window as he switched on the ignition and pulled the purring vehicle out onto the street.
Faces slid by, hurrying pedestrians. She heard the swish of tyres on rain-slicked streets and watched the buildings pass till finally, as they drew up to the kerb, her mind processed what had happened.
‘You know where I live?’
He said nothing, just switched off the engine and got out. Alice was still fumbling with her seat belt when her door opened and he leaned in, unfastening the buckle. Her fingers were all thumbs.
‘How do you know where I live?’
She should have waited till he stepped back to ask. Instead he leaned into the car, his face mere inches from hers, those polished eyes so close she could make out the rays of green mixed with the blue. It was like staring at some exotic sea and feeling the undertow drag her down. Beautiful but dangerous.
‘I know much more about you than that, Alice.’
She watched his mouth form her name, heard the faint, delicious foreignness of it on his tongue, and felt something shudder to life deep inside. She moistened her lips with her tongue and was surprised at the flare of interest she read in his eyes.
How could that be? He thought her a lying tart. He couldn’t be attracted to her.
And she should be completely indifferent. He’d insulted her in the worst possible way. Pride dictated that she feel nothing but contempt for him.