The Gold Collection: Bedded By A Billionaire. Kim Lawrence

lightly touched her skin.

      Feeling the responsive quiver run through her body, he smiled and bent in closer.

      ‘Great work,’ he admired. ‘Though you might want to rethink the dress—it’s a bit obvious—but the husky sexy voice, nice touch, I like it …’

      The blue eyes winked wider in protest. ‘What? Husky, sexy? I wasn’t …’

      She stopped, remembering just in time her role of heartless courtesan, and produced a wide, brilliantly insincere smile as she whispered back, ‘In my experience—’

      ‘No doubt vast.’ His nostrils quivered in response to the fragrance she wore. It smelt of something light, floral and very feminine.

      ‘You have no idea.’ A joking comment made by her solicitor drifted back into her head. ‘The only way we can legally clear your name is to produce a medical certificate saying you’re a virgin.’ He had never appreciated the black irony. ‘In my experience there is no such thing as too obvious when it comes to men, and if you think that was sexy … watch and learn …’

      She let her voice trail away significantly and had the satisfaction of seeing a muscle along his hard jaw clench. She lifted her chin, turning a deaf ear to the voice in her head that was screaming warnings about playing with fire. Instead of lowering the temperature she raised it several degrees, responding to the anger she saw reflected back at her in the dark surface of his eyes with a slow ‘cat got the cream’ smile.

      The guiding hand that then slid to her elbow was not this time light, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of reacting to the biting, bone-crushing grip of his fingers. With Ramon walking on the other side of her, he steered her towards the sweep of stairs that led to the massive porticoed entrance.

      Feeling more frogmarched than guided, she lifted the ankle-length hem of her skirt as gracefully as she could and took the first step up.

      It’s never too late to run.

       CHAPTER FOUR

      THE door pushed wider and a figure appeared at the top of the stairs. For a moment Lucy thought it was a child, then as she stepped into a shaft of light thrown by one of the spotlights that illuminated the building Lucy realised it was actually a young woman.

      She was petite and wand slim, her slender curves almost hidden by the long black fine-knit silk sweater teamed with black leggings she wore. Not a look many could have pulled off, but this girl did!

      Ramon, with an exclamation of welcome, pushed past Lucy. ‘Carmella!’

      As she watched the two embrace Lucy was very aware of dark eyes watching her like the hawk Santiago reminded her of—it wasn’t just the nose and the hauteur, but the predatory ruthlessness. She schooled her expression into serene neutrality and considered the situation objectively—or as objectively as was possible when your body was humming with an uncomfortable combination of antagonism and a heart-pounding awareness that made her skin prickle. The wretched man set every nerve ending in her body on edge. She longed to put some distance between herself and the weird electrical charge-negative he exuded. God, even her scalp was tingling!

      Presumably the presence of the tiny creature with the slow dark eyes and slender graceful body had been invited as the competition. She was definitely a dramatic contrast, the more so because the young woman wore flat leather pumps as opposed to Lucy’s four-inch spiky heels!

      Coming level with the younger woman, Lucy immediately felt big, blowsy and clumsy next to this delicate creature who emerged from Ramon’s embrace looking flustered.

      ‘Lucy, this is Carmella—she’s like the little sister I never had. What are you doing here, Melly?’

      The girl looked towards Santiago, who said smoothly, ‘Does there have to be a reason?’

      Conscious of the hand on her elbow, Lucy performed the move she had been mentally rehearsing. It went flawlessly. ‘Oh, I’m so sorry.’ She tossed a look of sparkling insincerity up at the man whose foot she had just ground with four inches of spiky heel. It had to have hurt, but other than a grunt of shocked pain he had sucked it up like a real tough guy.

      Santiago acknowledged her apology with a slight tip of his dark head and a white wolfish grin that carried a promise of retribution.

      Conscious of a fizz of excitement in place of the more appropriate trepidation, Lucy lowered her gaze.

      ‘I’m so clumsy,’ she trilled.

      Clumsy! A laugh locked in the back of his throat, Santiago sucked in a sharp breath through flared nostrils. The last thing in the world anyone would use to describe this woman would be clumsy. Her every move was imbued with a sinuous, sensual, seductive grace. Yes, she might represent everything he loathed and despised, but even with the overkill of hip swinging she was the epitome of grace.

      After a struggle Lucy broke her gaze free of his dark, compelling, almost hypnotic stare and, reckless excitement still humming through her body, turned with a smile to the girl.

      ‘Hello, Carmella.’ From the way the little brunette was looking at Ramon it seemed doubtful that she felt very sisterly towards him. Poor girl, she was clearly crazy about Ramon and his brother could not be unaware of the fact, yet it hadn’t stopped him using her to provide a distraction. He obviously didn’t care whose feelings he trampled so long as he got what he wanted. Lucy’s blood boiled when she thought of all the casualties he must have left in his wake.

      Ramon was right: it was about time someone gave him a taste of his own medicine.

      ‘Carmella is a ballet dancer,’ Ramon said, switching to English as the two broke off their conversation.

      ‘Back row of the corps de ballet,’ the girl corrected, looking embarrassed by the accolade.

      The conversation had taken them through a hallway of epic cavernous proportions. This place was not what anyone would term cosy, but it was impressive. Had the circumstances been different she would have been bombarding her host with questions about the history of this fantastic building.

      ‘How interesting,’ she said, meaning it. She had had ballet classes herself until it became obvious that she was not built on the right scale.

      Santiago, who had been speaking in a softly spoken aside to a dark-suited individual who had silently materialised, murmured, ‘Thank you, Josef,’ before turning back to them. ‘It appears our meal is ready. So, what do you do, Lucy?’

      Caught off guard by the addition, Lucy blinked. It took her a second to recover her poise and resist the compulsion to say, ‘Live off impressionable boys.’ Lucy didn’t know how she managed to suppress the words hovering on the tip of her tongue.

      ‘I manage to keep busy.’

      ‘And you’re staying at the resort hotel? I just love the spa there,’ Carmella enthused.

      ‘Isn’t that where you usually get your dinner dates, Ramon?’ Lucy teased, forgetting for one moment her role. ‘Actually, I’m staying with a friend.’ She broke off and swallowed a gasp. The room they had entered had the dimensions of a baronial hall complete with tapestries that were probably priceless on the stone walls; all that was missing was someone playing a lute in the minstrels’ gallery. The candles on the table, heavy with silver and gleaming crystal, had been lit. A person would need a megaphone to speak to a person sitting at the far end of the table.

      ‘How … cosy,’ she murmured sarcastically.

      ‘Friend?’ Santiago angled his question towards his brother, not Lucy, pulling out a chair for Lucy at the table and ensuring that several feet of antique oak separated her from Ramon. Not that he would have been surprised if the woman had slithered across the surface to latch onto her prey.

      An image flashed into his head of her lying across the table in a silvery pool of her own hair, the slinky red