LITMIR.BIZ

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moment, as if nothing or no one else mattered. This was her moment and what better person to share it with than a man like Marco?

      ‘I’m surprised a beautiful woman like you is alone tonight, but I will admit to being happy about it.’ Marco’s deep, sexy voice pulled her well and truly back from her thoughts.

      Just as it had the moment he’d come over to her, Imogen’s heart skipped a beat and a host of butterflies took flight in her tummy. Her head was light already and she’d barely drunk any champagne. Could she really be an emotionally detached seductress? Could she really be all a man like Marco wanted?

      ‘So am I.’ She tried to remember all that Julie had said to her on the flight out. All the advice about forgetting ‘that scum who left you virtually at the altar’ and living again. Julie had made her promise that the next time a man showed an interest in her she would forget the past and live only for the moment. No thoughts of the future and certainly no thoughts of the only other man she’d ever had a relationship with.

      She smiled at the memory of how insistent Julie had been. She wouldn’t be surprised if Julie was back in their luxury villa alone, just so she could force her to keep that promise and push her into Marco’s arms. She’d show Julie—and herself—that she had moved on.

      ‘You’re smiling,’ Marco said softly as he handed her a glass of potent bubbles.

      ‘What’s not to smile about? I’m in a beautiful place with very agreeable company.’ She tried to tease, tried to flirt a little, but it was so out of her comfort zone. As was the silk dress which clung to each curve she usually tried to play down. The long front slit showed off her legs with each step and she tried hard to own it, to wear it. It was a dress which showcased her in a very different light. It was a dress for just Imogen.

      ‘Very seductress,’ Julie had said as she’d put on the shimmering gown of blue which had been part of the wardrobe provided for them both for the week to enable them to test the luxury resort and blend in. It was also something she could only dream of wearing and she hated to imagine how much it had cost.

      ‘Only agreeable?’ he teased as he sipped his champagne, his gaze holding hers, sending tingles of excitement down her spine.

      She watched him drink, his handsome looks very Mediterranean, but his accent was unmistakably American. As he waited for her to answer, he lifted his dark brows suggestively, his eyes sparkling with sexy mischief.

      ‘Okay,’ she laughed. ‘But it might inflate your ego too much. I’m in a beautiful place with a handsome man for company.’

      ‘That’s much better,’ he laughed. ‘So, just Imogen, what is it you do in London?’

      Imogen nearly choked on the champagne as his question threw her off balance. Her thoughts raced as she scrabbled for something suitable to tell him. She was hardly going to tell a man like him, a man who emanated wealth from every pore of his sexy body, that she was merely an office worker living one monthly paycheque to the next. Why spoil the magic of the moment? Why not really live the dream and create a new life for herself?

      ‘I’m a personal assistant.’ She sipped her champagne then put the glass down, not wanting to drink too much too fast. ‘What about you?’

      ‘I’m in the leisure industry.’

      ‘In America?’

      He laughed. It was such a sexy laugh her stomach somersaulted and if she hadn’t been sitting down she was sure she would have to because her knees would have weakened as desire began to slip over her body in a way she’d never known possible.

      ‘That obvious?’

      ‘A little, but you have Mediterranean looks.’ What was she saying? She might as well have told him that she’d been studying him.

      ‘My family originates from Sicily. My grandfather emigrated to New York with my grandmother when they were newlyweds to start a new life.’ He smiled, and she guessed he must be or had been close to his grandparents. It seemed family was important to him, that he remembered his grandparents with the same fondness with which she remembered hers. Determined not to let her real life into this moment she pushed aside those thoughts and waited for him to continue. ‘They opened a coffee shop and lived there all their lives.’

      ‘That’s so romantic.’ The words slipped from her lips before she had time to think but judging by his expression it was not the way he would describe it. It also brought home that her first impression of him was right: this man was the type of man who didn’t settle down, didn’t commit to relationships, probably scorned romance and never used the word love.

      ‘Are you a romantic?’ His abrupt question backed up that thought.

      She laughed and leaned forward to pick up her glass, aware of his eyes on her and the fact that her dress left more of her uncovered than it covered. It would have fitted Julie much better, her being so slim, but she’d insisted it was perfect on Imogen. She’d refused to even try it, reminding Imogen that she’d promised not to let Gavin’s cruel taunts over her figure dent the confidence in her body she’d found after setting herself free from school-day bullying.

      ‘Isn’t everyone? A family story like that is kind of romantic.’ She sat back and sipped her champagne, determined to keep her voice light. ‘Do you not think it’s romantic?’

      ‘No.’ The word was so final she almost felt sorry for him, but then she remembered where her romantic notions had got her—ditched during the final wedding-dress fitting. Maybe this Italian New Yorker had the right idea, maybe he didn’t. Either way she was having fun teasing him. She hadn’t felt so carefree for a long time.

      ‘But look at this place. Romance is what it’s all about.’ She held her arms out and spread her palms upwards as she looked at the restaurant with candlelit tables for couples, the bar with its subdued lighting, the gardens they were now in, lit by lights which echoed the twinkling of the stars.

      ‘Okay, I relent,’ he laughed, melting her all over again.

      ‘You do?’ she teased further, laughing up at him as if she’d known him for years instead of barely hours.

      He nodded in grudging agreement. ‘Maybe this island is a little romantic.’

      She laughed softly, aware of his gaze intensely on her. ‘Now you are showing your Italian side.’

      He moved a little closer to her. ‘And do you like it?’ This game of flirting was getting dangerous, but for some reason she didn’t want it to stop. Maybe the champagne was making her bold.

      ‘I do. Much better than your hard-edged-businessman-of-New-York side.’

      ‘Ouch.’ He picked up his glass and raised it to her. ‘In that case I raise a toast to a romantic interlude on this island with a beautiful woman.’

      Nobody had ever said she was beautiful before. At school taunts about her weight had followed her through each year, and as she’d turned into a teenager her mother had referred to it as puppy fat, meaning well but destroying any shred of confidence she’d had. Whatever the reason for her being plump and curvy, she’d never been able to look like her skinny cousins. Fed up with feeling sorry for herself, she’d decided to embrace what she had and, with a renewed confidence in herself, her lifelong friendship with Gavin had blossomed into romance. He was her first boyfriend and had become everything to her as she’d fallen in love. Yet even though they had been a couple for two years and had become engaged, he’d never once told her she was beautiful. As hard as she’d tried not to allow that to knock her confidence, it had, especially once their engagement had ended.

      ‘To the romance of the moment,’ she added to their toast, watching with a smile as his brows rose. Then without breaking eye contact he sipped his champagne. She could almost feel his body telling her he wanted her, could almost hear the words whispered on the warm evening breeze.

      From the bar soft, seductive music drifted over to them, as if enticing them to make more of their moment.

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