The Platinum Collection: A Diamond Deal. Susan Stephens

the curve of his sensual mouth as he turned his head to issue this instruction. He was certainly one arrogant piece of work. She had never encountered anyone like Roman Quisvada before—

      ‘Eva,’ he rapped, swinging the front door wide.

      Did he have to stand waiting for her with his thumb tucked inside his belt with his long lean fingers directing her gaze to the main attraction?

      ‘Shall we?’ he invited mockingly.

      Not if I can help it, she thought, having taken in the size of the attraction.

      * * *

      By the time they reached the beach it was already packed with party guests. Roman was greeted like returning royalty. Which was great for Roman and a whole new experience for Eva—especially the compliments she received from the men. Not for the first time since she landed in Italy, she was glad she spoke the language. It wouldn’t have been half so much fun if she hadn’t understood all their chat.

      ‘I feel like Cinderella at the ball,’ she admitted, hot-faced after the latest round of attention from a hunting pack of Roman’s male friends.

      He didn’t seem too impressed. ‘My friends find you...intriguing.’

      ‘Because they haven’t seen me before?’ she guessed. ‘Or because they wonder what I’m doing with you?’

      ‘Neither. You’re attractive and they’re hot-blooded men with a healthy interest in attractive women.’

      Attractive? She was attractive? That was news to her. And it was the first time any man had said that about her in her hearing. Stubborn. Argumentative. Competitive. Tempestuous. Or just plain stroppy—these were all labels she was familiar with. Could the ‘attractive’ label account for the black look Roman was giving his friends?

      Really?

      She wanted to smile.

      ‘Something amusing you?’ he said, turning back to her, frowning deeply.

      ‘No,’ she said, acting surprised. Seeing his face, she could almost believe Roman was jealous. That probably didn’t sound like much to a normal woman, but it was certainly unique in Eva’s experience. Men shied away from her in Skavanga, unless she was dressed in jeans and giving them a hard time, while here in the Med they flocked around. And, actually, she was quite enjoying it, especially as she knew she was at absolutely no risk at all—not from Roman and not from his friends. At least, not while he was around. Roman had made it quite clear that he was leader of the pack and no one trespassed on his territory.

      As Roman chatted to some more guests who eyed her up speculatively, she toyed with the pretty belt and thought of her mother. Utta Skavanga had made no secret of the fact that she despaired of Eva ever developing feminine traits. And the harder she’d tried to instil her femininity in Eva, the more Eva had rebelled. She’d felt a failure compared to her beautiful sisters, and had chosen to become a tomboy instead. The tomboy she still was today.

      Correction: the tomboy she had been until today. Trust an Italian to breathe life into that side of her. Roman’s innate flair had brought his friends flocking around.

      ‘Your friends are nice,’ she said when he turned back to her.

      ‘Nice?’ he queried, turning to see some of the men were still staring at Eva. ‘They’re unscrupulous villains, every one of them.’

      She had to hide a smile seeing Roman glowering. Maybe he did care a little bit—

      And now she was being ridiculous. Roman was a hot-blooded Mediterranean man, interested in every woman with breath in her body, because that was his default setting. But it was good to have his interest, if only for one night. It was new and different for her. And not unpleasant. Men generally showed an interest when they wanted her to change a tyre, so they didn’t get their suits dirty, or maybe to operate a heavy-lifting machine down the mine if someone wanted to go home early. Apart from that, her encounters with the opposite sex had been restricted to darts practice, snooker matches, and keeping score ringside at the gym, none of which exactly offered an opportunity to flex her femininity muscle.

      ‘And you didn’t need to be quite so friendly,’ Roman added, turning to give her all his attention.

      ‘And why do you care?’ she said, giving him the cold eye.

      She waited in vain for some flattery.

      ‘I don’t care.’

      ‘Well, you could have fooled me.’

      ‘You look cute in that outfit. Dangerously cute.’

      ‘Oh, please! Cute? Pass the sick bucket, will you?’ She was transported back down the mine, jousting with the men. She was so sure Roman was mocking her, she had to hit back first. And, for goodness’ sake! Belligerent, laddish, abrasive, any of those adjectives would suit her. But cute?

      ‘If you don’t believe me, just look at yourself,’ he said, turning her to face the bar.

      There was a long mirror behind the counter and in between the bottles and darting bartenders Eva could see the reflection of a girl she hardly recognised—a girl with flushed cheeks and bright eyes, and a wild tumble of glittering copper hair—a slim girl standing next to a colossus who looked like every woman’s dream. But instead of feeling thrilled or flattered, she felt her stomach clench with apprehension. The old Eva was back and ready to defend against hurt and ridicule, and against all those things Eva had never quite got the hang of, like accepting a genuine compliment with a simple ‘thank you’.

      ‘If I’d had anything else to wear, I’d have worn it,’ she flashed ungraciously.

      Roman’s lips twitched suspiciously.

      ‘Are you laughing at me? Did I say something funny?’

      She was totally out of her comfort zone, feeling increasingly hot and awkward. She couldn’t compete with the other girls at the party with their sleek, immaculately groomed hair and their expensive designer gowns. She should have known Roman would end up teasing her. It was probably the only reason he had invited her to the party. It was probably his way of punishing her for causing disruption at the mine and for arriving on his island uninvited—

      ‘Where do you think you’re going?’

      He caught hold of her arm as she stormed away.

      ‘I’m going back to the palazzo—’

      ‘Oh, no, you’re not,’ he said. You’re staying here with me. You don’t seriously think I’d let you loose on my home, do you?’

      ‘One of your homes—’

      ‘Don’t get bogged down in detail,’ he snarled, drawing her close.

      Roman’s eyes were so dark and compelling. He radiated power. She tried to subdue the urge to wriggle away from him so she could bolt as far and as fast as she could. Lifting her chin, she matched his stare. ‘I’ll stay at the party and play my part.’

      She would stay on his island until they had that talk. Let them see how cute he thought her then.

      ‘Excellent,’ he said coldly.

      She relaxed and stopped fighting him, and he let her go.

      With no option but to stay at his side, she began to notice how popular he was—revered even. Why were some of the older people kissing his hand? He was chatting to them like old friends. It was such a warm village, family oriented. That was what she was missing. And it was all her fault. She had worn her family out with her tantrums. She had chosen the wilderness and the wildlife that lived there over them. No one had been able to answer the emptiness inside her when she lost her ma and fa, and only the mighty Arctic landscape seemed to dull the pain. Spending time with people like this only proved how much she took her sisters for granted. When was the last time she had given much thought to the blessings of family life, or swallowed her pride to apologise after a row, which she normally started?

      ‘You’re