LITMIR.BIZ

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wrist, pulling her back.

      As he spoke in rapid Italian he kept his eyes on hers, and his thumb started moving in little circles on the underside of her wrist. Cara had to stop herself from groaning out loud. Did the man have any idea what he was doing to her? But she couldn’t take her eyes away from his either. As she watched, a hard expression came into them. His hand tightened on hers fractionally, but he didn’t stop that seductive motion with his thumb. Cara knew she could have pulled away if she’d wanted to, but for the life of her she couldn’t. Was that giving him some tacit signal? To her shame, she knew that she hoped it was. What was this madness?

      He ended his conversation and slipped the phone back into his jacket. He let go of her hand, dropping it abruptly, almost as if he regretted holding it. Cara’s heart went out to him as she guessed it must have to do with his father, and she asked hesitantly, ‘Is everything okay?’

      She saw his jaw clench slightly. He seemed to be wrestling with something. He looked at her then, and the intensity in his eyes pinned her to the spot. And then he said, ‘It’s time to get out of here.’

      There was an unmistakable edge to his voice this time, and for a second Cara fooled herself into thinking that he’d said it in such a way as to mean for them both to get out of there. And then mortification raced through her. Why on earth would a man like him have meant that? He only meant that he had to leave. And so did she.

      But, disturbingly, a shaft of pain went through her. She forced herself to say lightly, as she avoided his eye and gathered her things, ‘I have a busy day tomorrow. I’d better go too. Thanks for the drinks.’

      Enzo had paid already, brushing aside her attempt to give him something. It was somewhat of a relief, even though she hated being paid for, as in reality she barely had enough in her purse to get her home. Rob had left before he’d had a chance to give her her tips, and it would be a couple of weeks before she got her final cheque.

      She let Enzo guide her out through the now busy VIP area and back through the club. Cara shivered slightly. She wasn’t sorry to be saying goodbye to the place. It was Barney the main doorman’s night off, and his replacement was new, so she just said a perfunctory goodnight as they left.

      In seconds the club was behind them and they were out in the darkness and the cool early spring air. It was almost midnight. Cara shivered lightly as Enzo helped her into her coat. He caught her long hair and pulled it free, his hands brushing against her bare neck. Cara’s insides melted. It felt like the most intimate gesture. Just then her name was called by someone in the queue, and Enzo dropped his hands, leaving her feeling ridiculously bereft. She looked to see an actress waving energetically. She was a regular. Cara waved back half-heartedly and watched as she disappeared into the club with her entourage, sending up silent thanks that she’d never have to help carry her out again.

      ‘A friend of yours?’

      Cara turned to face Enzo looking up. Her heart was beating so hard she felt constricted. She smiled awkwardly. ‘Not exactly.’ She stepped back and away, finding it harder than she cared to admit to walk away from him. ‘Look, thanks for everything—and the drinks… It was nice talking to you.’

      With hands stuck deep in his pockets he just looked down at her. ‘Do you really want to go?’

      Cara’s brain froze. Her heart tripped. ‘What did you say?’

      ‘Come back to my hotel with me.’

      It was shocking, and it wasn’t a question. It was an imperative. A calling that set her blood racing and heart beating fast again. Lord knew she wasn’t ready for this, on this week of all weeks. Who was she kidding? She wouldn’t be ready for a man as virile as Enzo in a million years. And yet even as she thought that, newly awakened awareness flooded her body, making her believe that he was the only man she could make love to in the world.

      Confused by how strong this feeling was, she backed away, shaking her head. ‘I’m sorry, I don’t—’ Do that sort of thing because I’ve never done it before. Her voice failed and the words resounded in her head. She shook her head again. No matter what her body might be saying, her head was warning her to run fast in the opposite direction.

      Enzo stood under the streetlight, his shoulders huge, his frame lean and awe-inspiring, his face dark and sinful. Everything about him was sinful. Rob’s words came back to Cara. Could this man make her forget? For one night? Even as she was thinking this, her thoughts and belly in turmoil at what she was walking away from, he shrugged nonchalantly and stepped back too. The moment was gone. Of course he wouldn’t insist. It had been a complete mystery to her what he had seen in her at all in the first place. However, disappointment was crushing, mocking her.

       ‘Allora, buonanotte, Cara.’

      Her tongue seemed to cleave to the roof of her mouth as she realised that she’d never in her life see this man again. And she suddenly wondered desperately how it would feel to kiss him. But she reiterated to herself sternly that this was the realm of fantasy. He was not in her league and she wouldn’t even want him to be. Didn’t she despise the kind of men who went into that club? And yet, prompted a voice, didn’t you think he was different?

      As if in accord with the rebellious voice, her newly awakened body was screaming to walk up to him and say, Wait—yes. I’ll take what you’re offering. Even though he’d displayed his own indifference to her answer. Patently he didn’t care. All he had to do was snap his fingers and women would be tripping over themselves to be with him. She had to focus on that. There was nothing special going on here.

      ‘Goodnight, Enzo.’ He hadn’t even told her his second name.

      She turned abruptly and walked away, her breath coming fast, her heart thumping so hard that she feared it might burst from her chest. And, ridiculously, at that moment she felt more alone than she had at any point in her life to date. And that was saying a lot. Silly tears pricked the back of her eyes and she told herself it had to be the result of her fraught and emotional week. Not the amazing evening that had come out of nowhere.

      As she passed the queue of people waiting to get into the club she overheard one girl say loudly, ‘Look at him…she must be crazy to walk away from him…’

      Cara stopped in her tracks and slowly turned around. Enzo was not looking at her any more, and if anything that should have made it easier for her to put this whole night down to some crazy experience brought on and heightened by grief and shock. But she couldn’t move. She watched as he said something to one of the other doormen, who whistled, obviously calling his car round. All Cara could see was his broad shoulders, that inky black hair, the sheer masculine beauty of his build. The latent power in his tall proud stance. Something within her was calling out to be obeyed. Some deep, primal need to forge a connection. The thought of never seeing him again was causing a panicky fluttering in her chest.

      Cara was unaware of her feet carrying her in one inevitable direction: back to him. And then she was standing behind him and feeling as though the world had come back to rest on its axis again. With her heart in her mouth she tentatively touched his back. Immediately he tensed and turned around, dark brows coming together over tawny eyes that sliced down into hers, seeing right through her in an instant.

      ‘Changed your mind?’

      The sardonic arrogance, the something cynical in his expression, couldn’t impinge on the pathetic weakness that had led her back to him. She couldn’t answer straight away. She’d never done anything so rash and impulsive in her life, but the thought suddenly struck her that she’d never wanted anything or anyone with such a deep visceral need before. There was protection in knowing that this was it. One night. With this beautiful man. And then she would allow all the pain and hurt and grief back in. But just for this night, these few hours that stretched ahead, she could be someone else. Not the girl orphaned at sixteen; not the little sister bullied by her older brother, hoping pathetically that he might change; not the girl working day and night to obtain a degree. And not the girl who had been involved in a horrific car crash in which she’d been the only one to walk away without a scratch.

      His

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