JACQUELINE BAIRD - The Italian's Blackmailed Mistress

Sophie was saved from responding by the ringing of the doorbell, but her happiness of five minutes ago had vanished. However, it returned the moment she opened the door and saw Max, starkly handsome and elegantly clad in an immaculately tailored suit. His tall figure oozed sex appeal, and Sophie’s already pounding heart leapt in her breast.

Max turned a smiling face towards the open door and looked at Sophie. For a moment he was struck dumb. Her mass of blond hair was swept up in an intricate knot on top of her head. Her exquisite face was delicately made up to enhance her superb bone structure and fabulous green eyes. As for what she was wearing—the mid-thigh-length sheath of emerald-green silk outlined every feminine curve and lay straight across her high firm breasts. Damn it, he was getting aroused just looking at her.

‘You look amazing—and remarkably you’re ready,’ he said, thinking that she wasn’t the only one—he could have quite happily ravished her there and then.

‘Yes.’

She smiled at him and the breath left his body. Max had to remind himself once again that he had promised Alex he wouldn’t seduce her—but the trouble was, Sophie intrigued him on every level. She made him laugh, she was clever beyond her years and she was a great companion. As for her physical appearance—he only had to look at her to want her. He should never have asked her out tonight, he realised, because he did not trust himself to keep his hands off her.

Sophie sensed none of Max’s doubts, either during the short car ride or as he took her arm and led her into the restaurant—she was simply too excited.

Max ordered champagne, and when their glasses were filled he raised his and said, ‘To a beautiful girl and a beautiful night.’

Sophie’s face heated at his mention of night. Did he mean what she hoped he meant? Was he at last going to move their relationship to the next level? Kiss her and then make love to her? Yes, she decided as his deep, dark eyes smiled into hers and they touched glasses. With that simple exchange, the mood had been set for the evening.

Sophie let Max order for her, and as course followed course and the champagne flowed freely she fell ever deeper under his spell. They talked about everything and nothing, and Max punctuated their conversation with a smile or the touch of his hand on hers. He fed her morsels of food she had never tried before, watching her every reaction with amusement and something more. By the end of the meal Sophie knew she was totally in love with Max.

‘That was a perfect meal.’ She sighed happily as Max paid the bill.

Perfect food, maybe, Max thought. But pure torture for him. He was white-knuckled with the strain of keeping his hands off her. He must have been mad to think he could have just a mild flirtation with Sophie, and when he slipped an arm around her waist and led her out of the crowded restaurant it was nearly his undoing. She was tall, and when she leant into his side they were a perfect fit, her hip moving sexily against his thigh.

‘I am so glad you brought me here.’ She turned her head to smile up into his face. Her teeth were even and brilliant white against the light golden tan of her skin and he felt his body tighten another notch.

He was no masochist. This had to stop or he was in real danger of losing control—not something he ever did. Dropping his arm from her waist, Max opened the car door for her—but it did not stop his heart hammering in his chest. She looked so utterly exquisite and so damn naïve she hadn’t the sense to hide her feelings.

‘My pleasure,’ he said, and abruptly slammed the door.

By the time he slid behind the wheel and started the car he had his body under control. As he manoeuvred the vehicle along the winding road back to the hotel he glanced at Sophie and realised he had no right to be angry with her. It wasn’t her fault she had the looks and the body of a temptress and stopped men in their tracks, he thought dryly as he brought the car to a halt outside her chalet.

After their laughter and intimacy over the dinner table Sophie sensed Max’s mood had inexplicably changed, and when the engine stopped she glanced up at him and wondered what she had done wrong.

‘Home again,’ she said inanely, and blushed as she realised she was way out of his league in the sophistication stakes. But in the next moment he proved her wrong.

‘Ah, Sophie,’ he drawled huskily. ‘What am I going to do with you?’

She saw the sensual smile that curved his firm lips as he reached to slide his arm around her waist and pull her close to the hard wall of his chest. He growled something softly, something she did not understand, and then his mouth covered hers and she didn’t care.

It was as though a starburst exploded in her brain, sending shock waves to every nerve-ending in her body. He slid his tongue seductively between her softly parted lips, exploring the sweet, moist interior, and her hands involuntarily reached up to clasp around his neck. His kiss was more than she could ever have imagined, and Sophie closed her eyes and gave herself up to the wonder of his embrace. She felt his hand stroke up to cup her breast, and as his thumb grazed the silk-covered, suddenly taut peak, a fiery wave of desire scorched through her veins.

‘Dio! How I want you,’ Max groaned.

Sophie’s fingers were tangled in the sleek dark hair of his head, and her tongue—at first tentatively and then tenaciously—duelled with his as an ever-increasing hunger consumed her.

Max heard her moan when he finally lifted his head, and saw the passion in her dazzling green eyes. He knew she was his for the taking. He almost succumbed—after all, he was not made of stone, and denying his body was not something he was used to. But he had made a promise to Alex, so he had to rein in his carnal impulses.

Gently he pushed her back against the seat, and got out of the car, drawing in a few deep, steadying breaths as he walked around to open her door. ‘Come on, cara.’

Hazy-eyed, Sophie glanced at the hand Max held out. It took an enormous effort on her part to still the shaking in her own hand and take the help he was offering, and step out of the car.

She looked at the staff chalet and back at Max, her body still strumming with excitement, not sure what to do, what to say.

Sensing her uncertainty, Max curved an arm around her waist and led her to the door. Once there, he turned her in his arms and narrowed his dark eyes on her bemused face—he would make it easy for her.

‘Thank you for a lovely evening, Sophie. I won’t come in. I have some international calls to make—different time zones, you understand.’ He brushed his lips against her brow and said regretfully, ‘I am leaving tomorrow, but maybe we will dine out again the next time I am here?’

Max wanted her, but he had a growing suspicion that once with Sophie would never be enough. He didn’t believe in love, but he was astute enough to recognise that what he felt for Sophie and how he lost control around her could very easily become dangerous to his peace of mind.

‘Thank you—I would like that,’ she murmured.

Max saw the naked adoration and the hurt in her eyes, and much as he wanted Sophie he knew Alex was right—she wasn’t for him. He had watched her with the guests, the staff and with the children she quite happily looked after whenever she was asked. She was so caring and everyone adored her. Sophie deserved the very best, and he was far too much of a cynic to believe in love and happy ever after—whilst she was too young and too much of a romantic for the kind of affair he enjoyed. The timing wasn’t right. Maybe in a few years, when she had completed her studies, and if she was still single…who knew…?

‘Good night, sweet Sophie.’ Because he couldn’t resist touching her one last time, he lifted a finger and traced the outline of her lips, saw her smile. ‘That’s better. A young girl like you should always be smiling,’ he drawled softly, his dark eyes enigmatic on her beautiful face.