An Heir To Make A Marriage. Эбби Грин

could see that Valenti looked incredulous.

      He shook his head and frowned. ‘Are you for real?’

      ‘Of course I’m real,’ Rose answered automatically, becoming aware of her surroundings again as she saw a woman gliding past, a condescending expression in her eyes as she looked Rose over from behind her own ornate mask. She tensed in his arms. ‘Look, Mr Valenti, I really should—’

      He pulled her closer and growled, ‘It’s Zac. Mr Valenti makes me sound like an old man. And I’m not an old man—yet.’

      She looked up at him and gulped. He most certainly was not an old man. He was young and dynamic and virile. And she couldn’t believe she was in his arms. Even though this had been the exact objective of the evening...

      ‘Do you know,’ he said, ‘you’re the only woman here who isn’t wearing one piece of jewellery?’

      Rose immediately scrambled to think of something to say under that incisive blue gaze. ‘I...er...I’d be afraid of losing something.’

      Zac shook his head again in that slightly incredulous way. ‘Your jewels aren’t insured?’

      Rose cursed herself. Of course, every woman here would have insured each priceless jewel she owned to within an inch of its life. However, the only precious jewellery she owned was her mother’s engagement ring, and that had more sentimental value than real value.

      She affected what she hoped was an air of nonchalance and fudged telling the truth with deflection. ‘The current trend is that less is more.’

      Zac’s hand moved then, slowly down her back, his fingers trailing along her spine down to where her back started to curve just above her dress, and her entire body flushed with heat.

      He said throatily, ‘I couldn’t agree more.’

      Run—quick, run! said a voice in Rose’s head. She was playing a high-stakes game and she was not remotely prepared or ready. And yet, a small stark voice reminded her, she didn’t have much of a choice. If she wanted her beloved father to get better. To live.

      ‘What do you say we get out of here? Go somewhere a little less...stuffy.’

      Zac’s voice cut through her troubled thoughts and feelings of guilt. She wasn’t a dishonest person and she’d never told a lie in her life. Yet right now she was actively engaged in deceiving this man with every word that came out of her mouth. With her very presence.

      But the huge room did feel as if it was closing in on them. The heat was stifling. Weakly choosing more time to think about her predicament, Rose said, ‘Yes, I’d like that.’

      Zac smiled, and it had a quality to it that wasn’t remotely civilised. But before she could change her mind he was tugging her off the dance floor, her hand firmly in his, and she had to lift her dress to keep up with him as he cut a swathe through the crowd.

      Rose was aware that she could probably just tug her hand out of his and flee, get lost in the crowd and escape through a side entrance, but...treacherously...she didn’t.

CHAPTER TWO

      ONCE THEY WERE in the vast marbled lobby, the increased flow of oxygen helped to unlock a delayed dose of cynicism that mocked Zac for being so taken by a woman. Yet even this rush of sanity couldn’t stop the realisation that he hadn’t felt so alive in a long time.

      And certainly no woman had ever precipitated this level of arousal. He took her over to a secluded area and as soon as he looked at her he felt any attempt to control his libido turn to dust.

      Her cheeks were flushed and her chest was moving up and down rapidly. Cynicism be damned. He didn’t want its protection now—he needed to see her. He took his own mask off and threw it carelessly but expertly into a nearby bin. He saw how her eyes widened on his face and his body pulsed with desire.

      ‘Now you,’ he said softly. ‘I want to see you.’

      For a second she bit her lip, and he had the crazy notion that she was going to refuse and walk away and he’d be left with just her name... But then she nodded a little jerkily and took her hands out of his to lift them to the back of her head.

      ‘Wait—’ Zac cursed silently. His voice sounded too harsh. Needy.

      She looked at him, arms lifted.

      ‘I want to do it. Turn around.’

      Slowly her arms came down and she turned, giving him her bare, slender back. Zac had to restrain himself from slipping his hands under the sides of her dress and around to cup her breasts in his palms. Just imagining the scrape of small hard nipples against his skin was enough to send his arousal levels into orbit.

      Instead he lifted his hands to where the mask was tied and undid the knot, letting it fall open. She caught the mask in her hand, in front of her face, and Zac slowly turned her around again, a crazy surge of anticipation tightening his gut.

      And when she lifted her face to his...he stopped breathing.

      She was stunning. But in a way that caught Zac in a different place than when he usually looked at a beautiful woman. She was ethereal...delicate. The faintest trail of freckles sat across her small, straight nose. Her cheekbones were high, elevating her face out of mere prettiness. And her mouth was ripe and full, like a crushed rosebud. Rose, indeed. Not caked in lipstick. Ripe for kissing.

      Her eyes held him captive. Huge and green, with tiny flecks of gold.

      They stood looking at each other for long silent seconds—until Zac realised that they were still in a public place. He’d never lost himself like this...in a moment. As if she was some fey creature in an enchanted wood who’d captivated him.

      Feeling more than a little exposed, he took a breath and stepped back. Rose blinked, her long black lashes a contrast to her fair brows. Suddenly Zac wanted to see her in a more contemporary setting, as if that might somehow help defuse this sense of not being connected to reality any more.

      He took her hand in his again and started to lead her back to the main part of the lobby, sending a silent signal to the attentive concierge to get his car brought round.

      ‘Wait...where are we going?’

      She was tugging on Zac’s hand and he stopped to face her. There was something he’d never seen before in the depths of those amazing emerald-green eyes. Wariness. Women weren’t wary around Zac. They were confident, seductive. Intent on pursuing him.

      Not this one. Bells rang in his head, telling him to be suspicious. But the heat in his body drowned them out. He wanted her more than he’d ever wanted a woman. There was something about her that called to a very animalistic part of him.

      ‘We’re going to one of my clubs.’

      Rose’s eyes widened slightly. She appeared almost reluctant, but then she said, ‘Okay.’

      Zac felt a moment of lightness bubble up inside him. ‘Just...okay? You don’t care which one?’ He did own three of the most successful clubs in Manhattan, after all.

      ‘Should I?’

      Her guileless question caught him unawares. Of course she shouldn’t. But in his experience everyone always wanted to go to the hottest place. The place that was so hot it wasn’t even hot yet.

      Zac tugged her closer. ‘I’ll choose, then, shall I?’

      She just nodded. He very badly wanted to kiss her right then, but he’d never indulged in public displays of affection in his life, and he was aware of a million pairs of curious eyes on them. So he drew back.

      A discreet cough came from nearby. ‘Mr Valenti? Your car is here.’

      Zac thanked the man and led Rose outside to where the valet was holding the passenger door open. Zac tipped him and helped Rose into the low-slung silver Falcone sports car.

      When