Sara Craven Tribute Collection. Sara Craven
in the stomach. She wasn’t prepared for the pain that slashed at her. Pain that came from anger, and something less easy to define or understand.
Her lips parted in a soundless gasp, and for a moment she was tempted to slip away into the night. Then some new arrivals came up behind her, and one of the men was holding the door for her, and smiling, and she was being swept along with the crowd into the restaurant.
Rome was looking towards the door, scanning the new arrivals, and when he saw Cory he straightened and, with a swift word to his companion, began to make his way over to her.
He was wearing light grey trousers which moulded his lean hips and emphasised his long legs, a charcoal shirt, open at the throat with the sleeves turned back over tanned forearms, and an elegant tweed jacket slung over one shoulder.
He moved with a kind of controlled power, and as the crowd parted to allow him through, heads turned to look at him.
Cory stood helplessly, staring at him, as the force of his attraction tightened her throat.
He said, ‘Mia cara, I thought you would never come.’
And before Cory could move or speak, she found herself pulled into his arms, and his mouth was possessing hers in a long, hard kiss.
She was too stunned to struggle, or protest. And if she had it would have made little difference. The arms holding her were too strong. The lips on hers too insistent. All she could do was stand there—and endure…
When he let her go at last, there were two angry spots of colour burning in her face. She was aware of amused stares, and murmured remarks around them.
She said in a fierce strangled whisper, ‘How dare you?’
He looked amused. ‘It took great courage, I admit, but, as you saw, it was an emergency.’
She said coldly, ‘I imagine you can take care of yourself. You didn’t need to drag me into it.’
‘Perhaps,’ he said. ‘But the temptation was irresitible.’
‘Then I hope you find having dinner alone equally appealing.’ Her voice bit, and she half turned.
‘No,’ he said. ‘I should not.’ He made a brief, imperative gesture with one hand, and Cory suddenly found herself surrounded. A hostess appeared beside her to take her wrap, a waiter was asking deferentially what the signorina would like to drink, and Alessandro himself, wreathed in smiles, was waiting to conduct them to their table.
Somehow, walking out had become impossible. Unless she made the kind of scene which made her blood run cold.
Tight-lipped, she took her seat, and accepted the menu she was handed.
He said, ‘Thank you for staying.’
Her voice was taut. ‘You speak as if I had some choice in the matter.’
‘Is that going to rankle all evening?’ His brows lifted, and he spoke seriously. ‘I’ve made you very angry, and I’m sorry, but it was a situation calling for drastic action. The lady was becoming persistent.’
‘And you couldn’t cope?’ Cory lifted her eyebrows in exaggerated scepticism. ‘You amaze me. And most men would be flattered,’ she added.
‘I’m not most men.’
‘I’ve noticed,’ Cory said with faint asperity. ‘Yet you took her card.’
She stopped dead, aghast at another piece of blatant self-betrayal.
I should have been cool, she berated herself. Shrugged the whole thing off, instead of letting him know I’d noticed every detail. My stupid, stupid tongue…
‘I was brought up to be polite,’ Rome returned across her stricken silence. He removed the little pasteboard oblong from his pocket and tore it into small pieces, depositing the fragments in a convenient ashtray. ‘But I prefer to do my own hunting,’ he added softly, the blue eyes seeking hers across the table.
‘I’ve noticed that, too,’ Cory said. ‘And you’re also very persistent.’
He sent her a questioning glance. ‘You have a problem with that?’
She shrugged. ‘How you conduct your private life is no business of mine. You’re an available man. You can please yourself whom you see.’
‘Not always,’ he said. ‘Not when the lady remains evasive. Or even hostile.’
He was silent for a moment, then he said evenly, ‘We haven’t got off to a very good start, Cory. So, if I’ve ruined everything, and you really want to go, I won’t stop you.’
She believed him. But the waiter was bringing their drinks, and a dish of mixed olives, and suddenly it all seemed too complicated. Besides, the performance so far had attracted quite enough attention, she reminded herself wryly.
He added, ‘But I hope you won’t.’
‘Why should it matter?’
‘As I’ve already indicated, I hate eating alone.’
Her voice was flat. ‘Oh.’
‘Among other reasons,’ he went on casually. He paused. ‘But perhaps I should keep those to myself, in case I put you to flight after all.’
His gaze captured hers, mesmerising her, then moved with cool deliberation to her mouth. She felt her skin warm under his scrutiny—her pulses leap, swiftly, disturbingly.
She managed to keep her voice under control. ‘I suspect I’m actually too hungry to leave.’
His mouth curved into a faint grin. ‘So it’s worth enduring a couple of hours of my company for the sake of Alessandro’s food?’
‘I don’t know,’ Cory said composedly. ‘They might have changed the chef.’ And she picked up the menu and began to read it.
A small victory, she thought, as his brows lifted in amused acknowledgment, proving that she might be reeling, but she wasn’t out.
When they’d given their order, Rome said, ‘So—what are the rules of engagement?’
She looked at him questioningly. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Kisses are clearly forbidden.’ He gave a slight shrug. ‘I was wondering whether there are any more taboos you’re meaning to impose.’
‘I already broke my major rule simply by turning up tonight,’ she said. ‘I think that’s enough for one evening.’
‘Ah,’ he said softly. ‘But this particular night is still very young.’
Cory took a sip of her Campari and soda. ‘Perhaps we could dispense with comments like that.’
He shrugged a shoulder. ‘Very well. Shall I say instead how mild it is for the time of year? Or calculate how many shopping days are left until Christmas?’
Cory bit her lip. ‘Now you’re being absurd.’
‘And you, Miss Grant, are being altogether too serious.’ He studied her for a moment. ‘Do you behave like this with all your dates?’
‘I usually know them rather better than I know you.’
Remembering the squeaking Philip and other disasters, Cory surreptitiously crossed her fingers under cover of the tablecloth.
‘Never a move without the safety net in place,’ Rome mocked.
She lifted her chin. ‘Perhaps. What’s wrong with that?’
‘Don’t you ever get sick of security? Tired of measuring every step?’ The blue eyes danced, challenging her. ‘Aren’t you ever tempted to live dangerously, Cory mia?’
She met his glance squarely. ‘I thought that was what I was doing.’ She leaned forward suddenly, clenched fists on the table. ‘Why am