Louise Fuller - His Cinderella's One-Night Heir / Consequences Of A Hot Havana Night

‘Bad timing, amante ,’ Dante growled, his hips arching up slightly as she braced a steadying hand on a lean masculine thigh, dangerously close to the tented fabric doing a very poor job of concealing his excitement. For the first time in his life he wanted a woman to be bold and he waited for a split second; however, frustratingly, she made no move. ‘I can tell the driver to drive us around...’

That suggestion spooked Belle. She moistened her swollen lower lip, her attention locked to his reddened mouth, her entire being, it seemed, caught up in the need for him to touch her again and satisfy the surge of need that had come out of nowhere to make her tremble and perspire. ‘Er...’

‘ Madonna mia... Ti voglio... I want you,’ Dante framed raggedly, claiming her ripe lips with his again at the same time as he pressed her hand to the part of him that most craved her attention.

Her fingers spread across the fabric, hesitantly tracing the long thick length of him through the fine fabric of his trousers, and that suddenly she was into frighteningly unfamiliar territory because she never ever played the tease, never encouraged where she had no plans to deliver, but just then she was dealing with a level of temptation new to her. No man had ever got her to the point where she wanted more than a kiss or even to the point where she truly wanted him . In a matter of minutes, Dante had accomplished both feats and shocked her witless because in his arms she was learning that even logical thought was more of a challenge than she could manage.

Her startled eyes flew up to his smouldering appraisal and she burned inside and out, her temperature climbing in direct response to the predatory hunger she saw in him and that on some level she actually craved. ‘I thought we were going to eat,’ she reminded him shakily, striving with a sense of cowardice to escape a situation that she knew she had helped to create because she hadn’t said no and she hadn’t pushed him away.

‘I can feed you back at the hotel,’ Dante husked, catching her hand in his as she backed away from him to prevent her retreat.

‘Sex isn’t part of our arrangement...is it?’ Belle demanded in sudden dismay.

‘Of course not,’ Dante assured her silkily, smoothing her small fingers in his to keep her close. ‘But what we choose to do outside those boundaries is our business alone.’

‘Er, well...yes, but I don’t think we should be getting too friendly,’ Belle mumbled in an awkward rush, trailing her hand free of his.

‘There has to be a certain degree of familiarity visible between us or nobody is ever going to believe that we’re lovers,’ Dante countered with reluctant amusement.

Belle hadn’t thought of that aspect of their pretend relationship and she wanted to kick herself for not thinking of it sooner because she had literally walked blind into a brick wall.

‘You seem very...nervous,’ Dante selected, scrutinising her troubled face with a growing frown. ‘I may want you but I promise that I’m not going to try to force you into anything you don’t want.’

Belle flushed and straightened her spine, embarrassed that she had made him feel that he had to give her that reassurance. ‘I know. But to be honest, er...I’m a bit out of my depth with you.’

‘How?’ Dante shifted lithely back into his corner, teeth gritting at the biting ache of unfulfillment nagging at him.

‘I haven’t got a lot of experience,’ Belle admitted stiffly. ‘I probably should’ve said no sooner.’

‘How much is “not a lot”?’ Dante prompted drily.

Belle sucked in a steadying breath. ‘I’d rather not go into that.’

‘You needn’t be shy, nor should you feel that you have to lie for my benefit,’ Dante murmured loftily. ‘I see women as equals. I prefer experienced partners.’

‘Well, then, I wouldn’t suit you at all!’ Belle confided in a tone of stark relief. ‘I haven’t had a, er, partner yet.’

That statement disconcerted Dante so much that for a split second he simply frowned down at her with astonished dark golden eyes. ‘You can’t be a virgin!’

As he spoke the door beside him was abruptly opened by the driver and both of them were taken by surprise, neither of them having noticed that the car had stopped, and Belle was miraculously rescued from the need to respond to his incredulous statement. In his wake, she slid along the back seat, struggling to keep the skirt of her dress from lifting as she alighted. In what had to be her worst nightmare, just as she was attempting to keep her underwear choices a secret known only to her, the flashbulbs of cameras went off, blinding and disorientating her as she fought to climb out gracefully in her high heels. Mercifully, Dante saved her from a clumsy exit by reaching down to grab her hand with his and he practically pulled her up and out of the limo, giving her the chance to find her feet and discreetly smooth down her rucked frock.

In the crowded entrance foyer, so impervious to the presence of the photographers that he hadn’t even spared them a glance, Dante stared broodingly down at her and said again, proving that his mind was still on the conversation she had gratefully abandoned, ‘You can’t be...’

And Belle’s second-worst nightmare came true with those words. She felt the awful burn of that hot familiar tide of colour sweeping up her body in a mortifying tide.

‘And a blushing one,’ Dante pronounced in even greater disbelief. ‘You’re supposed to be as much of an urban legend as unicorns.’

‘WE’RE NOT GOING to discuss this any more,’ Belle told Dante heatedly as they were ushered through a crowded room of staring diners to a well-lit velvet-lined booth in the corner.

‘Don’t kid yourself. When you said we had to know stuff about each other, that is definitely something a man would need to know,’ Dante fielded grimly.

‘Not in our situation, it’s not,’ Belle argued. ‘We’re only faking it.’

‘What would you know about faking it?’ Dante enquired witheringly.

‘Stop it!’ Belle hissed between clenched teeth in a sharp aside before she took a seat. ‘If you don’t stop embarrassing me, I’ll look like a tomato all evening!’

‘You could’ve told me the truth upfront!’ Dante replied, still pointed in tone as he spread open the wine list, signalled the hovering maître d’ and ordered wines in fluent French.

Belle pressed the cool backs of her hands to her cheeks in an effort to ratchet down her inner heat source. ‘ Why should I have told you?’

‘I feel short-changed and like I’m about to throw a baby into a snake pit!’ Dante groaned in frustration, wondering if he had chosen the wrong woman entirely for the role. ‘You are manifestly unsuited to pretending to be my sexy lover. How on earth are you going to pull that off?’

‘You don’t have to have sex to be sexy,’ Belle whispered vehemently across the table. ‘Not five minutes ago you were all over me!’

‘If I’d been all over you, we’d still have been in the limo and I wouldn’t be in need of a cold shower,’ Dante parried drily. ‘I kissed you. Let’s not get lost in virginal exaggeration.’

‘Just lose that word from your vocabulary!’ Belle tossed, taking refuge behind her menu and making hasty selections, desperate to change the subject. ‘It embarrasses me. I wish I’d lied now.’

Dante ordered the food and lounged back in his chair, narrowed sardonic dark eyes welding to her still-flushed face. ‘So, tell me why... Religious scruples?’

‘My grandparents didn’t encourage me to go out and about when I was younger because we lived in a rough area and they were worried about my safety. Then I was restricted by having to stay home as a carer. It wasn’t a conscious decision, but lack of opportunity is certainly part of it,’ Belle acknowledged, gratefully sipping the water poured for her, soothing her tight vocal cords. ‘And that’s all I’ve got to say on the subject.’