Heidi Rice – Unfinished Business with the Duke (страница 3)
Then everything else came flooding back. And Issy groaned louder.
Carstairs’s sweaty hands gripping her waist, the rank whiff of whisky and cigars on his breath, the pulse of fear replaced by shock as Carstairs’s head snapped back and Gio loomed over her. Then the deafening buzzing in her ears before she’d done her ‘Perils of Pauline’ act.
‘Leave me alone and let me die in peace,’ she moaned.
She heard a husky chuckle and grimaced. Had she said that out loud?
‘Once a drama queen, always a drama queen, I see, Isadora?’
She dropped her arm and stared at her tormentor. Taking in the tanned biceps stretching the sleeves of his black polo shirt and the teasing glint in his eyes, she resigned herself to the fact this was no hallucination. The few strands of silver at his temples and the crinkles around the corners of his eyes hadn’t been there ten years ago, but at thirty-one Giovanni Hamilton was as devastatingly gorgeous as he had been at twenty-one—and twice as much of a hunk.
Why couldn’t he have got fat, bald and ugly? It was the least he deserved.
‘Don’t call me Isadora. I hate that name,’ she said, not caring if she sounded snotty.
‘Really?’ One eyebrow rose in mocking enquiry as his lips quirked. ‘Since when?’
She quashed the sentimental thought. To think she’d once adored it when he’d called her by her given name. Had often basked for days in the proof that he’d noticed her.
Luckily she wasn’t that needy, eager-to-please teenager any more.
‘Since I grew up and decided it didn’t suit me,’ she said, pretending not to notice the warm liquid sensation turning her insides to mush as he smiled at her.
The eyebrow rose another notch and the sexy grin widened as he lounged in his chair. He didn’t look the least bit wounded by her rebuff.
His gaze dipped to her cleavage. ‘I can see how grown up you are. It’s kind of hard to miss.’
Heat sizzled at the suggestive tone. She bolted upright, aware of how much flesh she had on display as the bustier drooped. She drew her knees up and wrapped her arms around her shins as the brutal blush fanned out across her chest.
‘I was on a job,’ she said defensively, annoyed that the costume felt more revealing now than it had in front of Carstairs and all his mates.
‘A job? Is that what you call it?’ Gio commented dryly. ‘What sort of
She heard the sanctimonious note of disapproval—and the injustice of the accusation made her want to scream.
In hindsight, she should never have accepted the booking. And maybe it had been a mistake to walk into that room once she’d known how plastered her audience was. But she’d been under so much pressure for months now. Her livelihood and the livelihood of people she loved was at stake.
So she’d taken a chance. A stupid, desperate, foolish chance that had backfired spectacularly. But she wasn’t going to regret it. And she certainly wasn’t going to be criticised for it by someone who had never cared about anyone in his entire life but himself.
‘Don’t you
Surprise flickered in Gio’s eyes.
It was about time he realised she wasn’t the simpering little groupie she’d once been.
‘The man was blind drunk and a lech,’ she continued, shuffling over to the other side of the bed and swinging her legs to the floor. ‘Nobody asked you to get involved.’ She stood and faced him. ‘You did that all on your own. I would have been perfectly fine if you hadn’t been there.’
She marched across the lavishly furnished bedroom—keeping a death grip on the sagging costume. What she wouldn’t give right now to be wearing her favourite jeans and a T-shirt. Somehow her speech didn’t have as much impact while she was dressed like an escapee from the Moulin Rouge.
‘Where do you think you’re going?’ he said, his voice dangerously low.
‘I’m leaving,’ she replied, reaching for the doorknob.
But as she yanked the door, all set to make a grand exit, a large, tanned hand slapped against the wood above her head and slammed it shut.
‘No, you’re not,’ he said.
She whipped round and immediately realised her mistake. Her breath caught as her bare shoulders butted the door. He stood so close she could see the flecks of gold in his irises, taste the spicy scent of his aftershave, and feel the heat of his body inches from hers.
She clasped her arms over her chest as her nipples puckered, awareness making every one of her pulsepoints pound.
‘What?’ she snapped, cornered. The last time she’d been this close to Gio she’d been losing her virginity to him.
‘There’s no need to go storming off.’ The rock-hard bicep next to her ear tensed before his arm dropped to his side. Her breath released in an audible puff as he eased back.
‘You misunderstood me,’ he said, heaving an impatient sigh.
‘About what, exactly?’ She tilted her head, thrust her chin out.
At five foot six, and with six-inch heels on, she ought to be able to look him in the eye. No such luck. Gio had always been tall—tall and lanky—but when had he got so…solid?
She tried to look bored. No easy feat, given her limited acting skills and the fact that her heart felt as if it were being ripped out of her chest all over again. She pushed the memory back, locking it back in the box marked ‘Biggest Mistake of your Life’, while his gaze roamed over her, the chocolate-brown giving nothing away. To think she’d once believed that bleak expression was enigmatic, when all it had ever been was proof Gio had no soul.
‘Carstairs deserved everything he got, and I enjoyed giving it to him,’ he said coldly, shoving a fist into the pocket of his trousers. ‘I’m not blaming you. I’m blaming the situation.’ His eyes met hers and she saw something that stunned her for a second. Was that concern?
‘If you needed money you should have come to me,’ he said with dictatorial authority, and she knew she’d made a stupid mistake. That wasn’t concern. It was contempt.
‘There was no need for you to become a stripper,’ he remarked.
Her heart stopped and the blush blazed like wildfire.
He cupped her cheek. The unexpected contact had her outraged reply getting stuck in her throat.
‘I know things ended badly between us, but we were friends once. I can help you.’ His thumb skimmed across her cheek with the lightest of touches. ‘And, whatever happens, you’re finding another job.’ The patronising tone did nothing to diminish the arousal darkening his eyes. ‘Because, quite apart from anything else, you’re a terrible stripper.’
Chapter Two
Issy wasn’t often rendered speechless. As a rule she liked to talk. And she was never shy about voicing her opinion. But right now she couldn’t utter a single syllable, because she was far too busy trying to figure out what outraged her the most.
That Gio thought she was a stripper. That he thought she was terrible. That he actually thought it was any of his business. Or that he should have the audacity to claim he had been her friend…
‘We’re not friends,’ she spluttered. ‘Not any more. I got over that delusion a long time ago. Remember?’
His hand stroked her nape, making it hard for her to concentrate. ‘Perhaps friendship’s not the right word.’ His eyes met hers, and what she saw made her gasp. His pupils had dilated, the chocolate-brown now black with desire. He was turned on. Seriously turned on. But what shocked her more was the vicious throb of arousal in her own abdomen.
‘How about we kiss and make up?’ he said, purpose and demand clear in the husky voice.
Before she could respond he brushed his lips across hers, then dipped his head and kissed the swell of her left breast. Raw desire assailed her, paralysing her tongue as he nipped at the sensitive flesh. Her breath gushed out and her head bumped against the door, shock and panic obliterated by the swift jolt of molten heat.
The words crashed through her mind. But the only thing that registered was the brutal yearning to feel his mouth on her breast. She could still remember the way his insistent lips had once ignited her senses. Her arms relaxed their death grip on the corset, and the ripe peak spilled out.
She sobbed as he circled the rigid nipple with his tongue, then captured it between his lips and suckled strongly. Vivid memory and raw new sensation tangled as she arched into his mouth. Her thigh muscles clutched and released as she surrendered. He pushed the sagging bodice down, cupped her other breast. She moaned as he tugged at the swelling peak.
The firestorm of need twisted and built. Dazed, she clasped his head, gripping the silky waves—and felt the sharp knock on the door rap against her back.
Her eyes popped open as he raised his head.