Modern Romance July 2015 Books 1-4. Maisey Yates

and changed?’

      ‘Not right now. I’m going to take Jess back to the hotel,’ came a dark and silky voice from behind her.

      Jessica glanced round to see Loukas walking towards her, like a character who had just stepped from an oil painting. His dark cashmere overcoat matched the dark gleam of his hair and today he seemed devoid of all colour. Today, he was all black. The hard-edged smile he glimmered at her set off faint warning bells, though she wasn’t sure why.

      ‘Because she looks frozen,’ he added deliberately.

      Yes, she was frozen, but, although her skin felt like ice, her blood grew heated when his fingers brushed against her neck as he unclipped the heavy diamonds and handed them over to the waiting security guard. She felt lighter once the jewels had been removed and she wrapped the shawl tightly around herself, trying to hide herself from Loukas’s searching gaze. But nothing could protect her from the way he was making her feel, as self-conscious beneath that piercing stare as she had been during their journey out here.

      They had taken a scheduled flight from London, which had been just about tolerable, because at least Loukas had been working while Jessica attempted to read a book. But when they had arrived and their waiting water taxi had taken them towards the city, she’d felt herself unwillingly caught up in the romance of the moment, no matter how hard she tried to fight it.

      She had felt as if she were in a film as the sleek craft sped through the choppy grey waters, leaving a trail of white plume behind them, and the iconic skyline of cities, churches and domes loomed up ahead of them. She had failed to conceal her gasp of pleasure as they’d entered the Grand Canal and Loukas had turned to her and smiled. A complicit smile edged with danger and, yes, with promise.

      And Jessica had shivered just as she was shivering now.

      ‘Let’s walk back to the hotel,’ he said as the crew began to disperse.

      Picking up the heavy skirt to prevent it from dragging on the damp bank, she looked at him. ‘You really think I can walk back to the hotel wearing this?’

      ‘You don’t imagine that women in ages past had to struggle with dresses similar to that?’ he mused. ‘Think of the famous masked ball they hold here every February. And you’ll be warmer if we walk. Come on. It isn’t far.’

      ‘Okay,’ she said, and pulled the cashmere closer.

      She stuck close to his side as they began to weave their way through the narrow streets, past shop windows filled with leather books and exquisite glassware and over tiny, echoing bridges. It was like being in the centre of an ancient maze and it wasn’t long before Jessica had completely lost her bearings. ‘You seem to know exactly where you’re going,’ she said.

      ‘Unless you think I’m planning to get you lost in Venice, never to be seen again?’

      She looked up at him and her heart gave a funny kind of thud. ‘Are you?’

      He laughed. ‘Tempting, but no. Look. We’re here.’

      It was with something almost like disappointment that Jessica glanced up to see their hotel ahead of them, with light spilling out from the elegant porticoed entrance. Heads turned as they walked into the palm-filled foyer and she guessed that they must make a bizarre couple with her in the flowing ballgown and Loukas in his black cashmere coat. She could feel the swish of her dress brushing over the marble floor and felt her cheeks grow pink when the pianist broke into a version of ‘Isn’t She Lovely?’ and a group of businessmen started clapping and cheering as she passed them by. She wanted to dive into the elevator but her suite was on the first floor and the sweeping staircase seemed the most sensible option for getting there. But the voluminous skirt of her dress took some manoeuvring and she was out of breath by the time she got to the top.

      ‘Not quite as fit as you used to be?’ Loukas said, his black eyes glinting.

      ‘Obviously not, since I’m not playing competitive tennis any more, but I’m fit enough. I’m just not used to dragging this amount of material around with me.’

      There was a pause as they reached her door and she fumbled with her key card to open it.

      ‘So, are you going to have dinner with me tonight?’ he asked.

      She shook her head. ‘Thanks for the offer, but I’m going to have a bath and try to get warm again. My hands feel like ice.’ She hesitated as she looked up into his face and then swallowed. ‘They didn’t like what I did today, did they? I could tell.’

      He shrugged. ‘It was all new to you. You’re used to being brisk and breezy, to wearing casual clothes and looking sporty—and suddenly you’re expected to start behaving like a vamp. You’re operating outside your comfort zone, Jess, but don’t worry. You’ll get it right tomorrow.’

      ‘And if I don’t?’

      His eyes glinted again. ‘We’ll just have to make sure you do.’ He brushed a reflective finger down over her spine. ‘Have you thought how you’re planning to get out of this dress? Unless you’re something of a contortionist you might have something of a problem, since it has about a hundred hooks.’

      Jessica was trying not to react to the brush of his finger and she cursed the restrictive fastenings intended to give her an hourglass shape. She knew what he was suggesting but the thought of him helping her undress seemed all wrong. Yet what else was she going to do? Patti and the crew were in some unknown bar in an unknown city, and, short of waiting for them to return, she certainly couldn’t undo it herself.

      ‘Would you mind?’ she said casually, as if it didn’t bother her one way or the other.

      ‘No, I don’t mind,’ he said, just as casually, as he followed her into the suite.

      It was the most beautiful place she had ever stayed in, but Jessica barely noticed the carved furniture or the beautifully restored antique piano which stood beneath a huge chandelier. Even the stunning view over the Grand Canal and the magnificent dome of the Salute church couldn’t distract her from the thought that Loukas was here, in her hotel room.

      ‘Aren’t you going to turn around and look at me, Jess?’ he questioned softly.

      She cleared her throat, wondering if he could hear her nervousness. ‘You’re supposed to be undoing my dress,’ she said. ‘And you can’t do that unless I have my back to you.’

      There was a split second of a pause. She thought she heard him give a soft laugh as he unclipped the first hook, and then the second. She wanted to tell him to hurry up and yet she wanted him to take all the time in the world. She could feel the rush of air to her back as he loosened the gown and she closed her eyes as another hook was liberated. Was this how women used to feel in the days before they were free to wear short dresses and trousers, or go without a bra? A sense of being completely within a man’s power as he slowly undressed her?

      Her breath caught in her throat because now there was a contrast between the air which had initially cooled her skin being replaced by the unmistakable warmth of a breath. Her eyelashes fluttered. Was he...was he breathing against her bare back?

       Yes, he was.

      It felt like the most intimate thing imaginable. She swallowed, because now his lips were pressing against the skin and he was actually kissing her there.

      Her eyes closed. She knew she ought to say something but every nerve in her body was telling her not to break the spell. Because this was anonymous, wasn’t it? It was pleasurable and anonymous, and she didn’t have to think. She didn’t have to remember that this was Loukas and that there was bad history between them. She didn’t have to look into those gleaming black eyes or see triumph curving his lips into a mocking smile. All she was conscious of was the feel of his lips brushing against her and the hot prickling of her breasts in response.

      The dress had slid down to her hips and his hands were moving to skim their curves as if he was rediscovering them. Luxuriantly, he spread his fingers over the flesh and she thought she