MELANIE MILBURNE - Rich and Outrageous - His Poor Little Rich Girl / Deserving of His Diamonds? / Enemies at the Altar

‘Suit yourself,’ he said, brushing his wet hair back off his face with one of his hands.

Rachel rolled her lips together, wishing she could tear her gaze away from the broad expanse of his chest, but her eyes were like two iron filings being lured by a powerful magnet. His pectoral muscles were so well defined. He must be lifting bulldozers in the gym, she thought. Unlike a lot of men of his generation he had resisted removing the masculine sprinkling of hair that went from a T shape across his chest to a narrow trail that disappeared beneath the black bathers he was wearing. She was glad the edge of the pool prevented her from looking any further. She had more than once felt the hard ridge of his maleness against her lower body when he had kissed her in the past. Her response to him back then had totally shocked her. It had shamed her that she had been so wanton with him, that in his arms she had turned into a ravenous tigress desperate for his kisses and his searing touch.

He was not the type of man her father had wanted her to associate with. He was beneath her in every way imaginable, he was untouchable, he was forbidden fruit. But still she had been drawn to him time and time again, unable to stop herself from stealing clandestine moments with him. Her behaviour had been unpardonable. She had led Alessandro on shamelessly when all the time she had never had any intention of going against her father’s wishes.

Rachel became aware of Alessandro’s gaze on hers and wondered if he was remembering those few stolen passionate kisses and that final showdown the night of her twenty-first birthday party when her engagement to Craig had been formally announced. It still made her heart jerk painfully when she recalled the look in Alessandro’s eyes that night. She had never seen such loathing, such contempt and anger. It had been red-hot. It had scorched her to the backbone. No wonder he still wanted to punish her.

She swallowed the tense knot in her throat, hating that she was hot and sticky and perspiring while he looked so cool and composed. It was ironic that he was the one in deep water, but, although she was standing on the rock-steady sun-baked flagstones, she felt as if she were in over her head.

‘Lucia has left drinks on the table over there in the shade,’ Alessandro said. ‘Would you mind bringing me a cold beer?’

Rachel glanced at the tray of drinks and then pursed her lips when she faced him again. ‘Why don’t you get it yourself?’ she said.

‘I am enjoying the water too much,’ he said.

She folded her arms in a recalcitrant manner. ‘I am not your slave.’

He gave her a slow smile that sent another shock wave between her thighs. It unsettled her so much she turned on her heel and stomped over to the drinks and poured herself an ice-cold wine. She sat down on the terrace furniture, crossing one leg over the other as she sipped from her glass. She had almost finished the wine and he still hadn’t moved from the side of the pool.

She knew he was watching her. She felt the weight of his gaze. She had always been aware of him watching her in the past. She had developed a sixth sense where he was concerned. She poured herself another wine and began sipping it, slower this time, aware that she was probably still a little low on fluids given how warm it was. The last thing she wanted to do was lose her head while in the presence of Alessandro Vallini.

God, she was so hot. Why hadn’t she packed a bikini in her handbag? It would have taken no space. Why hadn’t she thought? Luggage went missing all the time. It was one of the drags of travelling. She should have been more prepared. She pushed some sticky strands of hair off her face and took another cautious sip of her wine.

‘Have you got sunscreen on?’ Alessandro said.

‘Have you?’ she threw back.

‘I always use protection.’

Rachel felt that disturbing quiver again deep and low in her belly and to distract herself, jumped up and snatched a cold lager off the tray and took it to him. ‘Do you want a glass with that?’

‘No, this is fine. Thank you.’

She watched as he tipped his head back and drank from the bottle, the column of his long strong throat making her wonder what his skin would taste like if she were to trail her tongue along the dark stubble along his jaw …

She shied away from her traitorous thoughts like a cat springing away from a snapping dog. She went back to the chair in the shade and picked up her wine, holding it with both of her hands to control their sudden trembling. She had definitely been too long in the sun or something. She was acting so out of character. She wasn’t the type to be affected by a hot body and a slow sensual curve of a smile. Not any more. She was sensible and sorted out now. Life had taught her to get her priorities in order. No more infatuations, no more silly little dreams of being loved unconditionally. Everyone was out for what they could get and she was no different. She wished she could make him change his mind about backing her, however. If only she had more time with him to convince him of the potential of her label. If she could just get him to sit down with her and look at her spring and summer collection surely he would see how serious she was about this? How could she get him to change his mind?

Alessandro finished his beer and set the bottle well back from the edge of the pool. ‘Are you sure you won’t join me?’ he asked.

‘No, thank you.’

‘You could swim in your bra and knickers,’ he said. He waited a beat and added with another glint in his eyes, ‘You are wearing a bra and knickers, aren’t you?’

Rachel’s face felt like a furnace. How she hated him for taunting her like this. He was reminding her of the times when he had been at her father’s estate in the early years when she had deliberately paraded her scantily clad body before him. She had thought it amusing back then. It had made her feel so powerful. But now he was the one with all the power.

‘Of course I am wearing underwear,’ she said primly.

‘I am sure it is far more modest than some of the bikinis I have seen in this pool,’ he said.

Rachel could just imagine the minuscule scraps of fabric his lovers would prance around in. Not that she could talk. She had worn plenty of racy little numbers herself in the past. And he had seen her in them too. She had made sure of it. These days she went for a more classic look. ‘I might come down later after you’ve gone,’ she said.

‘I’m not planning on leaving any time soon,’ he said. ‘I swim for an hour each day, sometimes twice a day.’

Hence the strong pecs, Rachel thought. ‘That seems rather excessive,’ she said. ‘Are you training for something? The next Olympics maybe?’ She didn’t care that she sounded sarcastic. She didn’t see why she should pull any punches with him. He had insulted her from the moment she had stepped into his presence. It wasn’t helping her cause, she knew, but it sure felt good to give as good as she got from him.

His expression became shuttered, closed off, shadowed. ‘I like the exercise,’ he said. ‘It’s good for the mind as well as the body.’

He resumed swimming, length after length, the same rhythmic action having an almost hypnotic effect on her as she watched from the shade.

She sat for a bit longer finishing her wine, and in spite of the overhanging branches of the tree beside the table and chairs the heat became a torment. Perhaps it was the wine, perhaps it was the heat, or perhaps it was the streak of wilfulness in her personality that refused to let Alessandro think he could win any tussles with her.

She stood up and slipped out of her sandals and linen trousers and top, leaving them folded over the back of the chair she had just vacated. The bra and knickers ensemble she was wearing was thankfully a decent set Caitlyn had bought her for her last birthday. It was white with tiny pink rosebuds sewn in between the cups of the bra and on the front of the knickers. It covered her far more than some of the bikinis she had worn in the past, but even so as she walked towards the pool she felt as naked as the day she had been born.