Giordanni's Proposal

‘I need a drink,’ she blurted, and forced herself to step back. ‘It’s all right; I’m steady now,’ she added, breaking free from his hold.

‘You might be, but I don’t think I will ever be again,’ he husked, his silver eyes capturing hers. ‘Don’t move and I’ll get you a drink.’

She couldn’t have moved if she’d wanted to, her gaze following him as he turned and walked to the table, filled a fluted glass with amber liquid and turned back to offer it to her. She took it from him, the light brush of his fingers against hers sending a tremor up her arm that made her almost drop it. She took a hasty gulp of champagne, anything to hide her ridiculous reaction to him, but she had an uncanny feeling she would be unable to hide anything from this man, and yet she didn’t even know his name.

‘Who are you?’ she asked, and was instantly horrified at her own bluntness.

‘My friends call me Dex, my enemies, the bastard Giordanni. My mother christened me Dexter Giordanni. Dexter meaning, ‘‘on the right hand’’—possibly to compensate for my being born, on the ‘‘left-hand side of the blanket.’’ So take your pick.’ He laughed at the look of shock on her lovely face.

‘You’re very blunt, Dex,’ she said, stunned at his intimate revelation about his birth, but she could not help grinning back.

‘So we are friends. Yes?’

‘Yes.’

‘In that case, can I take you out to dinner tomorrow night?’

‘Tomorrow night,’ she repeated, completely bowled over by his charm and obvious desire to see her again.

‘Unfortunately this evening I have to dine with the chairman and his wife.’ He gestured with his hand to where the head of the firm stood talking to Mike and a few others. Then, taking a card from his inside pocket, he said, ‘Give me your address and phone number, and I will pick you up tomorrow night at seven-thirty. Okay?’

She hesitated, torn between the desire to say yes and her more cautious self, which reminded her that this man was a stranger who could be dangerous to her state of mind. He had already dented her ability to think straight simply by his presence. She looked at him with puzzled green eyes, and felt the tension simmer in the air between them.

He straightened up, squaring his wide shoulders. ‘Unless, of course, your dancing partner has a prior claim to your time,’ he added, in a voice that was suddenly hard.

‘Mike?’ she chuckled. ‘You’ve got to be joking! He’s my stepbrother. You don’t really imagine I would make a fool of myself before a room full of strangers except with a member of the family? And, even so, I’m going to strangle the man when I get the chance.’

Dex’s responding chuckle relieved the inexplicable tension between them. ‘Good. So how about that address, please,’ he pleaded huskily. ‘I can see Brice heading this way.’

Beth looked around, and sure enough the chairman was walking towards them. ‘All right.’ In moments she had rattled off her address and telephone number.

Dex put the card back in his breast pocket just as the chairman arrived at his side.

Beth glanced at the man; not as tall as Dex, and quite a lot older, with a shock of white hair, he was still a very impressive figure.

‘Thank you, young lady. You and Mike certainly enlivened the proceedings. That boy will go far.’

Beth blushed again, and mumbled her thanks, but the man had already turned to Dex. ‘Sorry, Dexter, old chap, but I must drag you away from this very attractive young lady. My wife is expecting us at seven-thirty, and it is quite a drive.’

‘Yes, of course, Brice,’ Dex responded smoothly. And, as another man caught the chairman’s attention for a moment, he leaned towards Beth and, in a quick aside, added, ‘You’ve made quite an impression on Brice. Like older men, do you?’ he asked with a smile, but the edge of cynicism in his tone was unmistakable.

She looked uncertainly into his grey eyes. Was he teasing or what? But before she could answer Brice cut in.

‘Come on, Dex. I daren’t keep my wife waiting.’

‘Certainly, Brice.’ Dex straightened to his full height and, slanting Beth a quick glance, confirmed, ‘Seven-thirty, don’t forget. But in case you do, I will ring tomorrow to remind you,’ before turning on his heel and walking away with the chairman.

Beth followed him with her eyes; his dark head was bent towards the older man and he was seemingly deep in conversation with him as they exited the room. She let out her breath on a long sigh. She doubted if she really would see Dex again, and common-sense told her she would probably be better off without him.

Glancing around the room, she spotted her coat; someone had kindly placed it over a chair for her. The party seemed to be turning into some kind of stag night, with little appreciation of the fine wines on offer; it was more a case of who could down the most. There was nothing for her here. Crossing the room, she picked up her coat and pulled it on, wrapping it firmly around her.

Finally she spotted Mike near the door, and on her way out she collared him and hissed in his ear, ‘I’m leaving you to your booze-up! But don’t think I’ve forgotten. You owe me, and you owe me big for this, buster.’

‘Hey, you should be thanking me. You’ve only pulled one of the wealthiest bachelors around. I heard him ask you out.’

The one trouble with auburn hair, she thought wryly, was the inevitable tendency for blushes to form on the pale complexion that went with it. ‘Mr Giordanni? You know him?’ She hesitated, torn between the desire to escape and the desire to hear more about Dex.

‘Know him, sis? Not exactly, but I’ve heard of him. Everyone has. In the past ten years he has built up a huge business empire—he dabbles in everything, though there are some funny rumours as to how he got started. I know he owns a shipping line, and a string of hotels all over the globe—a couple of them here in London. Brice is hoping to get the contract to supply his hotels with liquor. Apparently, Giordanni has also just bought the Seymour Club in London—his reason for being here, I expect. His main home is somewhere in Italy, I believe.’

The more Mike talked, the more despondent Beth became. Dexter Giordanni was right out of her league, and she would be a fool to think otherwise.

‘Okay Mike, forget it.’ She tried to smile. ‘I’m off. Enjoy your night.’ And she left.

For a brief moment in time she had thought she had met the man of her dreams. Who was she kidding? Love at first sight was a myth, and in any case things like that never happened to Beth—except in her fantasies! Once more in the safety of her own apartment, Beth vowed for the hundredth time that never again would she get involved in Mike’s hare-brained schemes. As for Mr Giordanni, obviously he had simply been flirting with the only woman around at the time, and would never give her a second thought. Beth dismissed him from her mind. She would never see him again.

She showered and changed into a soft towelling robe, then curled up in the solitary armchair and sighed with pure contentment. Alone at last. Funny, as a child she had longed to be a part of a large family. Her own father had died when she was two and she had no memory of him. Her first stepfather had not lasted past her sixth birthday, when her mother, Leanora, had divorced him, and Beth had very little memory of him either.

Then had come Mike and his father, the lovely house on the English Riviera, overlooking the bay in Torquay and for a few years Beth had felt part of a family. Until her mother had decided a young actor suited her better and had divorced Mike’s dad to marry her toy-boy. Then she’d stuck Beth in a boarding school and taken off on tour.

For once, her mother had been the one to suffer when, a year later, the young man had divorced her. But nothing stopped her mother for long, though, Beth thought dryly, stirring in her seat. Three years ago, Leanora had married an Australian cattle rancher. The poor man had been visiting Devon to trace his ancestors when Leanora had convinced him he needed a wife. Beth had never even met Leanora’s fifth husband—technically her stepfather.

After the fiasco this afternoon, she had reached the conclusion that there was a great deal to be said for being an orphan. Without family to get her into trouble, life was a joy…

But later a little imp of mischief whispered in her head as she curled up in her cosy bed and tried to sleep. An even greater joy might be hers if the outrageously attractive Italian Dexter Giordanni actually turned up tomorrow night to take her out to dinner. With his handsome face clear in her mind’s eye, she fell asleep, the eroticism of her dreams a testament to the earth-shattering effect he had had upon her.

CHAPTER TWO

BETH eyed the pile of laundry with a wry grimace. Saturday was her day for washing, cleaning the apartment and shopping—always in that order. Usually she enjoyed having the weekend to herself, but today she felt oddly restless. With a sigh, she picked up the garments and shoved them in the washing machine. Turning it on to the correct setting, she decided to break with habit and do her shopping immediately—not for a second admitting she wanted to get out and back quickly just in case Dexter Giordanni telephoned.

By late afternoon, her apartment spotless, her clothes dried and ironed, she was beginning to regret turning down her friend Mary’s offer to go to the cinema with her. She had a sinking feeling her Saturday night was going to be spent alone in front of the television, and it was her own stupid fault. A man like Dexter Giordanni was not going to call the likes of her in a million years…

Still, she might as well shower and wash her hair; she had nothing else to do. And with that thought in mind she stripped off her jeans and shirt in the bedroom and padded to the bathroom. The ringing of the telephone had her sprinting back to the kitchen like an Olympic runner.

She snatched the receiver off the wall. ‘Yes?’ she said breathlessly.

‘I hope I did not disturb you,’ the deep, dark voice echoed down the line.

If only he knew, Beth thought, grinning to herself. Just the sound of his voice disturbed her more than any other man she had ever known… ‘No, no, not at all. I was just about to step in the shower,’ she told him truthfully.

‘Ah, the image is incantevole, but I must not delay you. I simply called to confirm our dinner date: seven-thirty, yes?’

‘What does incant… whatever mean?’ Beth asked, diverted by his lapse into his native language.

‘Enchanting… Ciao.’ And he replaced his receiver.

Beth stood holding the telephone for a long moment. Dex thought she was enchanting. Taking a deep, contented breath, she replaced her receiver and dreamily made her way back to the bathroom.

An hour later, wearing only a towel, Beth stood in front of her open wardrobe and viewed its contents with a jaundiced eye. Her date would be here in twenty minutes and she had nothing to wear. Apart from a couple of tailored suits she wore for work, the rest of her clothes were all casual. She was very much a jeans and sweater sort of girl, and somehow the red wool shirt-dress she kept for special occasions looked far too plain. Why, oh, why hadn’t she spent the afternoon shopping for an elegant, sophisticated dress to match the sophisticated Dex, instead of lolling around her apartment?