At The Sicilian Count's Command. Carole Mortimer
was seated between the two men at the round table.
Angelica frowned slightly. In the six months since she had begun to spend some of her weekends with Stephen they had never entertained, having spent the majority of that time getting to know each other. Wolf Gambrelli was their first dinner guest, let alone weekend guest…
‘I really must start to show you off rather than greedily keeping you to myself,’ Stephen added lightly. ‘Don’t you think so, Wolf?’
Angelica looked at Wolf Gambrelli from beneath lowered lashes as he took his time answering the older man, his expression as unreadable as Angelica’s own.
‘I’m not sure I would want to share her with anyone else, either, if she were mine,’ Wolf finally answered tautly, knowing that if Angelica Harper really were his, he would definitely want to greedily keep her to himself!
Perhaps that was the reason for this inexplicable attraction? Perhaps it was the fact that Angelica Harper wasn’t his, that she was so obviously Stephen’s, and the fact that she wasn’t available, that made her more desirable in his eyes?
No, that couldn’t be it, he instantly dismissed; he had always made a point of never poaching on another man’s marriage or a prior claim to a woman. The newspapers might like to depict him as an international playboy, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have a moral code that he lived by.
Unfortunately, just looking at Angelica Harper, gazing into the deep mystery of those misty grey eyes, lowering his gaze to the bare skin of her shoulders and the firm thrust of her breasts against the soft material of her dress, was enough to make him want to throw his moral code out of the window along with his senses!
Stephen gave a husky laugh. ‘That’s honest, anyway!’
Honesty had nothing to do with it; Wolf knew himself well, and he was truly intrigued by the beautiful Angelica Harper!
Though he knew nothing about her apart from the fact that she was the most breathtakingly beautiful and sensually arousing woman he had ever met.
And that she belonged to Stephen…
‘Stop teasing Count Gambrelli, Stephen,’ Angelica told him shortly, her grey eyes flashing a warning as he raised innocent brows. The look she gave him in return promised there would be a reckoning later. ‘I hope that you like smoked salmon, Count…?’ She turned to Wolf politely.
Although his heated gaze—as dark and warm as melted chocolate—showed no such politeness as it rested hungrily on her slightly parted lips, completely taking her breath away. Even as her tongue instinctively moved to moisten the lips he stared at so intently, that dark gaze followed the movement of her tongue before rising again to meet hers in a look that seared.
‘More wine, Wolf?’ Stephen lightly broke into the tension, and Angelica looked up to find Holmes standing patiently beside their guest, waiting to replenish his glass with the white wine that was to accompany their first course.
Angelica sucked air into her starved lungs as Wolf Gambrelli slowly broke their locked gaze to turn and nod his head abruptly to the butler, his jaw so tightly clenched it was possible to see a nerve pulsing there. His high cheekbones were clearly visible, and those dark eyes were guarded as he raised his wine glass and swallowed deeply.
He was reacting to Angelica Harper’s sensual beauty like a man deprived of water in a desert, Wolf recognised self-disgustedly!
But it was more obvious than ever, after Stephen’s flattering remarks to her just now, that Wolf’s assumption that the other man was totally besotted with Angelica Harper had been correct. And no amount of desire, of wanting her on Wolf’s part, looked likely to change that.
He began to eat his smoked salmon, not tasting the succulent delicacy as he realised he had lost his appetite. His appetite for food, at least! He hadn’t been aroused just looking at a woman since he was an inexperienced teenager!
‘Angelica is an—unusual name,’ he remarked lightly.
She nodded. ‘My mother has always been very keen on plants, herbs and flowers—I have twin sisters at home called Saffron and Rosemary,’ she added ruefully. ‘Goodness knows what my mother would have named us if we had been boys—Basil, Bennet and Comfrey, perhaps!’ She gave a huskily dismissive laugh.
The throaty sound of her laughter slid so sensually over Wolf’s flesh it felt almost like a caress, making the hair rise on the back of his neck and heat course through his veins.
‘Your mother is obviously a wise and far-seeing woman,’ Stephen put in huskily. ‘Angel is a perfect name for you, my love,’ he told her warmly, one of his hands moving briefly to cover hers.
‘I think you may be biased,’ she told the older man affectionately.
Wolf really wasn’t sure he was going to be able to take a whole evening—let alone an overnight stay—of this! If Stephen was any more besotted with his exotically beautiful ‘Angel’, he would be drooling at the mouth!
It wasn’t comforting to know that Wolf wanted to drool right along with him!
Angelica Harper, as if sensing Wolf’s hooded gaze on her, turned to include him in the conversation. ‘Which part of Italy do you come from, Count Gambrelli?’ she prompted politely.
He didn’t want politeness from this woman, Wolf recognised, as he inwardly brooded. In fact, his instincts where Angel was concerned were all completely primitive!
But at least the conversation became more general after that, as the three of them discussed the merits, or otherwise, of the different places they had visited in the world.
And Wolf did learn more, bit by bit, about the mysterious Angelica Harper as the evening progressed.
Before she had met Stephen, a year ago, her life seemed to have been one of being brought up in a close-knit family in Kent, followed by three years at university obtaining a degree in politics, and then moving on to a job in London as assistant to an aide to an elected politician—something she obviously enjoyed if the enthusiasm in her voice as she talked of it was anything to go by.
Which all sounded so at odds with the trophy girlfriend thing, or the potential trophy wife Wolf had assumed her to be…
‘You must miss all that now…?’ he enquired interestedly, lounging back in his chair as the three of them lingered at the dining table, drinking coffee at the end of the meal.
Angelica gave Wolf Gambrelli a frowning look. ‘Why would I miss it…?’
She had sensed Wolf Gambrelli’s critical gaze on her more than once as they ate dinner, and had chosen to ignore it and him—although, in truth, it was virtually impossible to ignore a man as sensually attractive as Wolf Gambrelli!
He shrugged those broad shoulders. ‘Leaving London and your job—’
‘But I haven’t left London. Or given up my job. Why would I…?’ Angelica looked at him questioningly, completely mystified as to why he should have assumed that she had.
‘Much as I would like to keep Angel with me all the time, Wolf, she prefers to remain an independent woman,’ Stephen told the younger man as he smiled proudly at Angelica. ‘Despite all my urgings for her to let me look after her and cosset her, she absolutely refuses to give up her own apartment or her job.’
‘Well, of course I do!’ Angelica exclaimed. ‘I love having my own apartment. And my job. Besides, I would be bored out of my mind if I stayed at home all day doing nothing!’
‘You see, Wolf—’ Stephen laughed softly ‘—Angel is a rare find—a truly independent as well as a beautiful woman!’
A rare find indeed, Wolf acknowledged frowningly. His assumption that Angelica Harper had moved in with Stephen and now lived off him in return for sharing his bed had proved to be totally incorrect.
Which only succeeded in deepening the air of mystery that surrounded her…
For