His Forbidden Passion. Anne Mather

you saying I have that effect on you, too?’ she asked tightly, a faint trace of mockery in her voice.

      Dominic sighed. ‘I guess I’m as susceptible to beauty as the next man,’ he conceded wryly. ‘But I don’t think your grandfather would approve of any relationship between us.’ He grimaced. ‘He doesn’t approve of the way I live my life as it is.’

      Cleo bent her head, suddenly despairing. She had never felt more gauche or so completely out of her depth in her life.

      She should have known he wouldn’t find her attractive. Despite what he’d said, she was convinced he was only being polite. Besides, a man like him was almost bound to have a girlfriend—girlfriends! He was far too charismatic for it not to be so.

      But she couldn’t help wondering what kind of woman he liked.

      One thing was certain, she thought a little bitterly. He wouldn’t choose someone like her, someone who hadn’t even known who their real parents were until today.

      ‘So—do you believe me?’

      Cleo didn’t lift her head. ‘About what?’

      He blew out a breath. ‘Don’t mess with me, Cleo. You know what I’m talking about.’ He paused. ‘I want to know how you feel.’

      ‘Like you care,’ she muttered, and Dominic had to stifle an oath.

      ‘I care,’ he said roughly. ‘I know this has been tough on you. But believe me, there was no other way to deal with it.’

      She moved her head in a gesture of denial. Then, unable to hide the break in her voice, she mumbled, ‘I still can’t believe it. Someone should have told me before now.’

      ‘I agree.’

      She cast a fleeting glance up at him. ‘But you didn’t think it was your place to do it?’

      ‘Hey, I didn’t know myself until a couple of weeks ago!’ exclaimed Dominic defensively. ‘Nor did Serena. She is seriously—peeved, believe me.’

      Cleo sensed the word he’d intended to use was not as polite as ‘peeved’ but he controlled his anger.

      ‘Are you seriously—peeved?’ she asked, again without looking at him, and Dominic wondered what she expected him to say.

      ‘Only with the situation,’ he assured her, aware of a feeling of frustration that had nothing to do with her. ‘I guess the Novaks had been told to keep your identity a secret. Maybe they would have told you—eventually. But they didn’t get a chance.’

      Cleo heaved a sigh, and when she turned her face up to his he saw the sparkle of tears overspilling her beautiful eyes.

      ‘I’ve been such a fool,’ she said tremulously. ‘I’m sorry. It’s just—too much to take in all at once.’

      ‘I can see that.’

      In spite of himself, Dominic felt his senses stir. She was so confused; so vulnerable. His grandfather should never have gifted him with this task.

      ‘Hey,’ he said gruffly, as the tears continued to flow. Leaning towards her, he used his thumb to brush the drops away. ‘Don’t cry.’

      He was hardly aware of how sensual his action had been until he felt the heat of her tears against the pad of his thumb.

      Fortunately, at this hour of an October afternoon, the subdued lights in the lounge created an oasis of intimacy around their table, and no one had seen what he’d done.

      Or, perhaps, not so fortunately, thought Dominic, hastily dragging his hand away. But not before her eyes had met his in a look of total understanding.

      And he knew that she knew that for a brief moment of madness he had wanted her. Wholly and completely. He’d wanted to penetrate the burning core of her and assuage the incredible hard-on he’d developed in the melting heart of her oh-so-tempting body.

      Christ and all His saints!

      Unable to sit still with such thoughts for company, Dominic got abruptly to his feet. He buttoned his jacket over the revealing bulge in his trousers, hoping against hope that she hadn’t seen it. For pity’s sake, what in hell was wrong with him?

      The waitress, ever-vigilant, came to see if there was anything else she could get him. Yeah, thought Dominic grimly, a stiff whisky. But he was driving, so he shook his head.

      ‘Just the bill,’ he said, pulling out his wallet and handing over a couple of twenties. ‘Keep the change,’ he added, as she started to protest it was too much.

      Then, turning back to Cleo, he said, ‘If you’re ready, I’ll take you home.’

      Cleo swallowed, her tears evaporating as she became aware, in some shameful corner of her mind, that she was to blame for his sudden agitation. She wasn’t proud of her reaction, but she was only human, after all. And she couldn’t deny the warm feeling that was swelling inside her.

      Whether he liked it or not, Dominic wasn’t indifferent to her.

      But she couldn’t—shouldn’t—allow it to go on.

      ‘I’ll get the bus,’ she said, making a thing of pouring herself more coffee. ‘I’m not finished. Thank you all the same.’

      She could hear Dominic breathing as he stood beside her. And the very fact that she could hear his infuriated response should have warned her she was treading on thin ice.

      But she certainly wasn’t prepared for him to bend down and pour the contents of her cup into the coffee pot. Then, slamming the cup back onto the saucer, he said, ‘You’re finished. Let’s go.’

      The waitress was still hovering and Cleo knew she couldn’t cause a scene. Apart from anything else, she might want to visit the hotel again, whereas Dominic, she was sure, was never likely to darken its doors again.

      Gathering her bag, she forced a smile for the waitress’s benefit, and then, pressing her lips together, preceded Dominic from the room.

      They crossed the reception hall in silence, but when they emerged into the damp evening air Cleo stopped dead in her tracks.

      ‘I meant what I said,’ she declared stiffly. ‘I would prefer to get the bus.’

      ‘And I’ve said I’ll take you home,’ said Dominic, brooking no argument. His hand in the small of her back was anything but romantic. ‘Move, Cleo. You know where I parked.’

      She decided there was no point in fighting with him. Besides, the buses were usually full at this hour of the evening, and why look a gift horse in the mouth? If he insisted on driving her home, why not let him? It was obvious from his expression that he had nothing else on his mind.

      Dominic, meanwhile, was struggling to come to terms with what had happened in the bar. For goodness’ sake, what was there about Cleo Novak that caused every sexual pheromone in his body to go on high alert?

      It was pathetic, he thought irritably. He wasn’t a kid to get a hard-on every time a beautiful woman flirted with him.

      But, as they neared the SUV and he used the remote to unlock the doors, he had to admit she intrigued him. Dammit, when had the touch of a woman’s skin ever had that effect on him?

      Never.

      Cleo didn’t wait for him to open the door for her. Sliding inside, she settled her bag on her lap, and pressed her knees tightly together. But a pulse was palpitating insistently inside her head and it was mirrored by the sensual heat she could feel between her legs.

      Drawing a breath, she tried to concentrate on the car park outside the windows of the vehicle. Several people were leaving as they were, but others were just arriving.

      Staff, maybe, she reflected, aware that she didn’t really care. She just wanted to be home, safe inside the locked door of the apartment. She didn’t want to think about Dominic, or her grandfather,