Soft warmth enveloped her as someone draped a huge coat around her shoulders.
‘Thank you.’
Her words were drowned by a burst of laughter. She looked up the slope of the riverbank and blinked. Some of the other models were sprawled on a couple of rugs having what looked like an impromptu breakfast. In the thick of them, like a sultan relaxing with his harem, lounged Orsino, sexier than any male model on set.
He said something and the laughter redoubled. One of the girls rapped him playfully on the shoulder, but Poppy saw her hand linger, stroking. He didn’t shift away. Instead his smile widened, that charming smile that could seduce any female. The woman looked dazzled and the rest leaned closer.
Pain jabbed Poppy’s ribs, twisting as it went.
She told herself the sight of Orsino charming the pants off her colleagues didn’t affect her.
Poppy blinked. Had he charmed the pants off one of them? Heat scudded through her at the idea of Orsino with Gretel, or Sasha, or Amy, or … anyone.
Was that why he’d been so undemanding? She’d expected him to make her life hell while he was here. Instead he’d been almost too quiet. She’d assumed his injuries held him back. But maybe his interest was engaged elsewhere. Her breath hissed sharply.
‘Poppy?’ It was one of the crew. ‘Are you okay? You must be half frozen.’
‘No, I’m fine. I’ve warmed up, thanks.’ She’d more than warmed. Heat unfurled in her like a great wave, crashing down on her.
Finally she put a name to the emotion that rasped through her like a rusty saw, tearing up her insides, and she despised herself for feeling it. How could she care if Orsino hooked up with another woman under her nose?
As if sensing her regard, Orsino looked up, his smile disappearing. The impact of that look vibrated through her like a plucked string.
Deliberately she turned away.
‘Here, take this.’ Orsino saw Poppy stiffen at the sound of his voice but she didn’t turn.
He didn’t enjoy that faint feeling of guilt eddying in his gut. He’d known she was there and had deliberately played up the cosy scene with the models. So why had that one look made him regret his actions? It wasn’t that he’d been able to read her expression from that distance. Or that she of all people had any right to judge him.
And yet …
Lips thinning, he walked around to stand before her. ‘It’s coffee laced with cognac. It will warm you.’
Eyes the colour of dark, crushed violets met his. Makeup accentuated her eyes and turned her lips to a glossy Cupid’s bow. She was pure sultry siren yet her expression was blank.
‘No drinks till I’m out of this.’ She waved a hand down the front of her dress, visible between the folds of her coat. ‘Do you have any idea what it’s worth?’
As she spoke the woman beside her, retrieving pins from Poppy’s hair, removed the glittering headband. Sapphires and diamonds, he guessed. Hair the colour of rich claret cascaded past Poppy’s shoulders in a curling tumble.
Something clutched at Orsino’s chest. He’d never seen her with her long hair loose. She looked like a medieval princess with attitude.
Then someone nudged him aside to remove her gem-studded bracelets, earrings and matching necklace. Through it all she stood passive, watching him with eyes devoid of interest, as if he just happened to stand where she was looking.
Orsino clenched his teeth, heat stirring in his belly. He abhorred the fact she’d switched off completely, impervious to him while he still … needed her.
That need was a raw, throbbing ache.
He lifted the coffee to his lips, taking a swig and letting the lacing of alcohol burn its way to his belly.
Before the day was out he’d wipe that condescending blankness from Poppy’s face if it was the last thing he did.
Poppy pushed open the door to the tower with a sigh of relief. No work for the rest of the afternoon. Today had been one of the hardest she remembered. So much for throwing herself into her work to avoid Orsino and the way he undermined her certainties.
‘Home at last.’
She slammed to a stop. Why wasn’t he lolling with his fan club of attentive women? She straightened her shoulders and stepped inside, trying to quell the jittering in her stomach.
Orsino came down the stone staircase, stopping at the bottom.
‘You look done in.’
In other words she looked a wreck, as exhausted as she felt. Unlike the other models who’d been preening themselves, vying for his attention. Piercing heat twisted again through her middle.
‘Thanks, Orsino,’ she snapped. ‘Just what I needed to hear.’ She shut the door and strode across the foyer.
‘What, you’d prefer compliments?’ From behind those impenetrable glasses his eyebrows shot up.