The Venetian's Midnight Mistress

Still, it was a masquerade party, where no names were exchanged and there would be no expectations after tonight. Eleni was right; it could be fun for Dani to just anonymously enjoy herself for one evening.

Until ten minutes ago Niccolo had been finding the evening tedious. Conversation became louder as bottles of champagne began to disappear, the laughter too shrill, the flirtations more obvious—and the culmination of those flirtations was obvious as couples began to disappear off into the darkness of the garden.

But Niccolo had never particularly enjoyed the Venetian Festival, and he certainly had no intention of being lured into the privacy of the surrounding trees by any of the women who had so far tried to tempt him.

As usual, he had kept a wary eye out for the sharp-tongued Daniella Bell as each of the female guests had arrived, but at ten o’clock he had assumed that she either wasn’t here at all or he had missed her in the crowd.

In fact, until he had seen the woman in the gold gown enter the garden, he had been considering taking a bottle of champagne and disappearing into the relative privacy of Eleni’s conservatory.

The woman’s hair was powdered white, and she had a heart-shaped beauty mark above her top lip. The creamy swell of her breasts was inviting above the low neckline of the gold gown, and her arms were white and slender, a gold fan held in one of her delicately graceful hands.

Her very stillness made her stand out from the rest of the guests as she looked slowly about her with an almost untouchable air of separation from those about her.

It was a feeling Niccolo easily recognised and related to. As head of the D’Alessandro family and banking consortium he had to keep himself apart out of necessity. The fact that he hadn’t yet found a woman suitable to become the D’Alessandro bride only added to his aloofness.

But he put on hold his plan to disappear the moment he saw the woman in the gold gown. Instead he collected two glasses of champagne and made his way determinedly towards her before any of the other men present sensed her air of detachment and saw it as the same challenge he did.

She was even more alluring close up, her skin as pale as milk. The colour of her eyes was not discernible behind the mask in the poorly illuminated garden, but somehow Niccolo thought they would be blue. Her perfect bow of a mouth was highly erotic, with that heart-shaped beauty mark above the fuller top lip, and Niccolo believed the hair beneath the powder would probably be a rich burnished gold.

Dani felt slightly flustered by the intensity of that dark gaze—not sure that encouraging this man by accepting a glass of champagne would be a good idea. Although she had no doubt that the more mischievous Eleni wouldn’t have hesitated.

‘Thank you.’ Her voice was husky as she took the glass of champagne the pirate presented to her, not quite managing to avoid touching the man’s long, slender fingers as she did so, and feeling something like an electric jolt up her arm as her own fingers briefly made contact with his.

‘Our hostess has strictly forbidden us the use of our own names,’ he said with a wicked smile. ‘So, if you have no objection, I would like to call you Belladonna.’

His voice was very deep and very sexy. Dani suddenly became aware that she was slowly being seduced.

‘As in the poison?’ she said pertly.

His teeth gleamed very white in the darkness as he grinned at her appreciatively. ‘As in beautiful lady,’ he corrected softly. ‘And you are very beautiful.’

Dani’s smile widened at the compliment. ‘How can you possibly tell?’

‘Would you really like me to tell you?’

Slowly being seduced? This man’s intent had just gone up a couple of notches!

But it was fun, she realised with dawning wonder. More fun than she’d had in a very long time.

‘Yes, please,’ she invited.

‘You have skin like white satin, a mouth that was surely made for kissing, and breasts—’

‘I think perhaps you should stop there!’ Had she thought only a couple of notches? Make that a dozen or so! She was starting to feel light-headed from all this flattery, and she had only sipped at the champagne.

‘Perhaps for the moment…’ He gave in gracefully with an inclination of his head. ‘Would you care to dance?’

Would she? The idea certainly had its appeal. But who was this man? The dark hair, swarthy skin and slight accent gave no clue other than that he was probably a D’Alessandro relative. What if he should turn out—horror of horrors!—to be Niccolo D’Alessandro himself?

It would be just her luck, when they all removed their masks at midnight, to discover she had spent the evening flirting with Niccolo!

No, she realised with some relief as she glanced briefly across at the other D’Alessandro men. They had just been joined by a sixth man, even taller than they were and dressed very lavishly, and his regal air of arrogance was unmistakably that of Eleni’s brother.

Dani relaxed slightly as she turned back to the pirate at her side. ‘And what do I call you?’

‘What would you like to call me?’ he countered.

Dani felt a quiver of excitement down her spine as her body was suffused with a heat that was in no way connected to the warmth of this beautiful summer evening.

This really was a seductive experience, she thought. To be complimented, enticed by a man she didn’t know, and who didn’t know her, and whose attention seemed to be fixed intensely on her. No wonder the Venetian Festival was so popular!

She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue, that butterfly fluttering in her stomach increasing as she sensed his dark gaze watching the movement.

‘Come, Bella, what is your fantasy? Tonight I will be whoever you wish me to be.’

Dani hadn’t even known she had a fantasy until now. ‘Morgan,’ she breathed. ‘I would like to call you Morgan.’

‘After the pirate Henry Morgan?’ the pirate said with a nod. ‘It is appropriate.’

Dani tilted her head. ‘Although I somehow think you must be a relative of Eleni’s…?’

He laughed. ‘No names. No personal details. Those are the rules, are they not? Now, would you care to dance? Or perhaps a walk in the garden would be more to your liking?’

Dani eyed the dozen or so couples moving slowly to the music on the temporary dance floor that had been set up in front of the small orchestra, tempted by the idea of being taken in his arms—more than tempted. But did she really want to be that close to a man who already made her feel like behaving more recklessly than she ever had before?

For the moment, no…

‘A walk, I think,’ she accepted, careful not to touch him this time as he took the champagne glass from her and placed both of them on the tray of a passing waiter.

Despite her care in not touching him, he immediately took hold of her hand and placed it in the crook of his arm as they strolled through the dimly lit garden. His arm felt like tempered steel beneath her fingertips, the billowy sleeves of his shirt hardly any barrier to the heat of his skin at all.

Niccolo, sensing that his Belladonna was about to remove her hand from his arm, moved to place his other hand over the top of hers, determined not to relinquish this small contact with her.

She was enchanting, tiny perfection, her hand small and delicate beneath his much larger one, and the coloured lanterns and the light of the moon threw the beauty of her breasts and the bareness of her arms into shadowed relief.

He could never remember being this immediately attracted to any woman before. The muted lighting and softly romantic music no doubt added to the seduction of the evening, but nevertheless Niccolo knew it was the intriguing air of mystery that surrounded the woman at his side that gave such enchantment to the meeting and held him captive.

For once he didn’t have to be the respected and respectable Niccolo D’Alessandro. His anonymity allowed him to be bolder, less reserved than was his normal custom. And he already knew where he wanted that boldness to take him with this woman… No doubt Eleni would be able to tell him exactly who his Belladonna was if he were to ask her, but Niccolo found that he didn’t want to do that, preferring to savour each new discovery about this woman as it emerged.

He turned to her in concern as he felt the slight tremor of her tiny fingers beneath his. ‘Are you cold?’ he enquired as he looked down at her.

Those softly pouting lips curved into an enigmatic smile. ‘Not at all,’ she assured him.

Cold? Dani’s thoughts echoed shakily. She was so aware of this man, so sensitised to the almost feline strength of his body as he walked beside her, to the touch of the fingers that curved so possessively about hers, that she wasn’t sure she could even think straight, let alone know whether she was hot or cold!

She was hot, she discovered when she concentrated on the question. Hot, hot, hot!

Every part of her felt tinglingly alive, and she was totally aware of the man beside her as she breathed shallowly, her breasts feeling full, her nipples hard and oh so sensitive as they pressed against her corset.