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he was also capable of forcing a woman he didn’t love, who didn’t love him, to marry him. He was an enigma.

      One that held an inexplicable fascination for her.

      She had certainly found herself thinking about him more than she should the last few days!

      ‘Only to people called Ingram,’ she came back challengingly.

      ‘Then it is as well that your name will soon become Gambrelli, is it not?’

      She looked across at him for several seconds before sighing. ‘As you said, Cesare, let’s eat,’ she replied, and she avoided meeting his eyes.

      He remained very still and silent for several long, tense seconds, Robin only breathing comfortably again when he finally joined her in eating.

      ‘You do not like oysters?’ he asked several minutes later, as Robin pushed her plate away without even attempting to touch the two succulent shellfish that remained on the platter.

      Robin gave him a knowing look. ‘If you think they’ll do you any good, you’re quite welcome to them!’ she came back tartly, well aware of the aphrodisiacal reputation oysters possessed.

      ‘Oh, I think two will be quite enough for one night,’ he returned sardonically.

      Well, that attempt at mockery had backfired on her, hadn’t it? Robin acknowledged to herself, as Cesare stood up to remove their plates, standing close beside her as he did so, his warm proximity making her shiver slightly.

      Perhaps staying here tonight wasn’t such a good idea …

      After all, just because she was going to tell her father she was staying out tonight it didn’t mean it actually had to be here, in Cesare Gambrelli’s hotel suite, did it? Of course it didn’t.

      ‘Would you like me to do that?’ she offered as she looked across to where Cesare was taking the serving dishes containing their main course from the trolley, feeling more confident now she had made the decision to leave.

      ‘Why not?’ He straightened as she stood up to join him beside the trolley. ‘The sooner you become accustomed to your wifely duties the better, hmm?’ he added provokingly.

      There was one ‘wifely duty’ she knew she would never become accustomed to!

      There was no way she would ever be comfortable as this man’s lover.

      Oh, physically she wanted Cesare; there was no way she could deny that after the way she responded to his slightest touch. But she had always believed that physical pleasure should be accompanied by love. She had been a virgin on her wedding night, and had taken no other lovers since her marriage ended, either.

      ‘Perhaps,’ she began slowly, as she served thinly sliced beef fillets and vegetables onto their plates, a large portion for Cesare, a much smaller one for herself, ‘it’s time we discussed the terms of this as yet mythical marriage.?’ She placed the plates on the table in front of them before sitting down again.

      ‘I have already agreed to satisfy your father’s … sensibilities concerning a marriage between the two of us,’ Cesare replied. ‘I do not think you are in any position to dictate any further terms to me, Robin.’ Though he admired her nerve, he had absolutely no sympathy for her sentiment.

      ‘Nevertheless,’ she told him firmly, ‘if I do agree to marry you—and it’s still a big if—then I also intend having some input into the … nature of the marriage.’

      Cesare found himself smiling, sure that he knew exactly which part of the marriage she was referring to. ‘Go on,’ he invited dryly, deciding he had better quickly eat some of the delicious beef in front of him. From the little experience he had of dealing with this woman, his appetite could desert him at any moment.

      Her chin rose defiantly, those violet-coloured eyes glittering purple. ‘Perhaps we could start by having you drop this mocking way you have of responding to everything I say!’ she snapped.

      His smile widened. ‘Perhaps if you stopped coming out with comments that I find amusing, I might be able to do so,’ he came back laconically.

      ‘I’m glad you find it so amusing, Cesare!’ Robin glared. ‘Personally, I find absolutely nothing to laugh about in this situation!’

      Yes, he had been correct—he was losing his appetite. For food, anyway.

      He liked that heated flush to her cheeks, the way her eyes sparkled deeply purple with emotion, her breasts thrusting against the thin material of her dress as she tensed her shoulders with indignant reproval at what she viewed as his inability to take her seriously.

      But he seriously wanted to strip that dress from her body right now and make love to her!

      ‘I am not laughing, Robin,’ he assured her huskily. ‘But perhaps we should postpone this conversation until after we have eaten?’

      ‘I’m not hungry!’ She pushed her plate away, her whole body rigid with her anger.

      Neither was he. His appetite was for something much more … tactile than food now.

      ‘Do not behave like a child, Robin,’ he said sternly.

      ‘Is that what I’m doing?’ she came back swiftly.

      ‘I believe so,’ he responded.

      ‘And if the great Cesare Gambrelli believes it to be so, then it must be so!’ Robin scorned.

      Cesare looked at her consideringly. ‘Why are you deliberately provoking an argument between the two of us, Robin?’ he finally asked.

      ‘I’m being provocative, am I?’ she said heatedly.

      ‘You must know that you are.’

      Because Robin knew she wanted him!

      Because she had seen the way he had looked at her seconds ago, seen the desire in his eyes before he’d masked it, and at this moment her whole body was singing with the knowledge of her own need!

      Because she didn’t want to want him!

      ‘Forgive me.’ She didn’t even attempt to hide her sarcasm. ‘Obviously I become a little argumentative when a man is blackmailing me into his bed!’

      Cesare’s breath hissed from between his clenched teeth. ‘Your primary roles as my wife will be as Marco’s mother and as my lover!’

      ‘I don’t wish to become your lover at all!’ Robin told him with conviction, even as her body warmed in betrayal of her claim.

      ‘All evidence is to the contrary, my dear Robin.’ Cesare raised an eyebrow.

      ‘Bastard!’ she breathed furiously, stung by his confidence. ‘Bastard, bastard, bastard!’ she repeated recklessly, and she stood up to glare down at him. ‘I dislike you intensely, Cesare Gambrelli—’

      ‘Perhaps you should once again show me how much you dislike me, Robin?’ he invited, as he too stood up to move purposefully around the table towards her.

      Too far. She had gone too far, Robin acknowledged as she began to back away from him.

      She had meant to get him to listen to her, to have him take her requests seriously, not provoke him into this totally physical response.

      Hadn’t she?

      As her pulse leapt, the breath caught in her throat, and Cesare’s mouth captured hers in a kiss that was hot, hungry and sensually demanding, allowing her no opportunity to deny her own response.

      His tongue slid intimately into her mouth, stirring her body into throbbing awareness, and Robin wasn’t sure what she had intended any more—only knew that she didn’t want this to stop, that she needed this man’s lovemaking in a way she had never needed or wanted any other man.

      Her lips widened and she kissed him back hungrily, her hands becoming entwined in the dark thickness of his hair as she held

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