The Petrelli Heir Page 4

  ‘Actually I’m in a bit of a hurry.’

  He felt his exasperation climb. Dismay was not a response Roman was accustomed to from attractive young women, and he suspected the novelty value would wear off quickly.

  ‘And you think I can’t keep up?’ He might not be taking the lead on any climbs, but his limp only manifested itself now when he was extremely fatigued.

  ‘No, of course …’ She took a deep breath and sighed. ‘Fine.’ Said with all the enthusiasm of someone who had just agreed to give up her place on the last lifeboat.

  Roman was torn between amusement and annoyance at the grudging concession. His annoyance would have been a lot greater had he not known that she was as aware of the chemistry spark between them as he was, but for some reason she was reluctant to acknowledge it …

  He was confident that whatever the reason for fighting the attraction she would lose the battle, and he relished the prospect of seeing the confident bold woman he knew was there under her diffident, fresh-faced exterior.

  ‘A pleasant stroll down a leafy village road on a sunny day—what could be nicer?’ murmured Roman as he fell in beside her, matching his stride to hers.

  ‘The inn is fourteenth-century.’

  ‘Is the tour commentary optional?’

  She slid him a sideways look of dislike. He had no manners at all but a great profile. Her glance drifted lower. Actually he had a great everything. ‘I thought you might be interested. My mistake.’

  ‘I’m fine with the charming company and the leisurely stroll,’ he murmured, adding drily, ‘Very leisurely stroll.’

  Izzy compressed her lips, and, to squash any suspicion he might have that she wanted to prolong this walk, lengthened her stride. It was a struggle, despite his comments to the contrary, to believe that his mangled leg did not give him pain, but he showed no sign of difficulty in matching her pace.

  As they continued down the steep, winding village street a silence developed … not of the comfortable variety. In the end and despite the risk of drawing another of his rude comments, Izzy cleared her throat. She had to do something to drown out the silent tension.

  ‘It was a lovely service … Rachel looked beautiful, didn’t she?’

  Roman, who thought one bride in a meringue dress looked much like any other, gave a non-committal grunt. The main event had not been what he was watching, or thinking about. ‘Her father is Michael’s brother?’

  Izzy, happy to discuss this safe subject, nodded. ‘Yes, they moved to Cumbria about twenty years ago. They bought neighbouring farms and married sisters.’ Both brothers still retained the Irish accent that Izzy found so attractive.

  ‘So the bride is your cousin?’

  ‘No … well, sort of, I suppose. Michelle isn’t my mother—I’m not a real Fitzgerald.’ Not something she normally said, actually not something she ever said except to herself, but he made her nervous and she babbled when she was nervous. He made her a lot of other things but Izzy didn’t want to go there.

  Roman registered that this was an odd thing to say, but as his interest in the Fitzgerald family and how she fitted into it was at best minimal he did not react to the information. Instead he suddenly stopped in his tracks. While it had been entertaining to a point he was tired of this fencing.

  ‘How long are you going to carry on pretending we are strangers?’

  Izzy took another few steps before she slowed and turned to face him, her face flaming. His elevated brow and his dark eyes mocked her.

  ‘I didn’t even know your name until five minutes ago. We are strangers.’

  ‘Strangers who have had sex,’ Roman retorted, his impatience wearing paper thin. Her innocent wide-eyed routine was beginning to irritate him. ‘Was the child yours?’ He had a vague recollection of dark curls and a pink dress, so presumably a girl, but he had been concentrating on the woman holding her and the way her already beautiful face had been transformed when she had smiled at the kid.

  He’d said yours not mine. So maybe he hadn’t guessed that Lily was his daughter. Feeling her panic subside from red alert to amber and fighting the lingering urge to run, Izzy veiled her eyes with her silky lashes as she fought to regain her composure.

  ‘Yes, she is.’

  ‘Are you married?’

  Izzy was too startled to respond to his abrupt question. ‘I beg your pardon.’

  ‘I’d prefer you answered my question.’

  There didn’t seem much point lying. ‘No, I’m not married,’ she admitted.

  He tipped his head, some of the tension in his expression fading as his eyes continued to sweep her face. ‘And you’re not with anyone?’

  Izzy framed a cold smile in response to his continued abrupt questioning style. She was suddenly conscious of being very hot. The silk chiffon dress clung uncomfortably to her skin and beneath it her bra chafed her nipples.

  ‘Is this you making small talk or is there a reason for this interrogation?’ It was hard to tell if he knew how rude he was being.

  ‘You didn’t answer my question.’

  She gave a small smile. ‘You noticed.’

  He clenched his teeth in a white smile that left his spectacular eyes cold. ‘I can do small talk. I can even tell you you’re the most beautiful woman here today.’

  Izzy was desensitised to insults after being the focus of gossip for so long, but compliments always threw her off balance, even one delivered in such an oddly dispassionate way. Or maybe it was the person doing the delivering.

  She moved her head sharply to one side, causing the loose tendrils of her hair to move over her face, partly to hide the juvenile blush she felt burning. She looked at him through her lashes and achieved a negligent shrug that managed to deliver a level of indifference she was a million miles from feeling.

  ‘You could? But your innate honesty prevents it?’ she suggested.

  ‘I could, but—’ He shook his head and his hooded gaze skimmed the pure lines of her oval face, lingering on her soft full mouth, taking pleasure from her beauty on a purely aesthetic level. His pleasure tipped over into the carnal as the image of those cool lips moving over his body sent his level of arousal up several painful notches.

  ‘After that build-up this should be good.’ Her amused smile faded as their glances locked. The rampant, hungry gleam in his eyes made her painfully conscious of the ache between her thighs.

  ‘It will be,’ he promised modestly, adding in a low throaty drawl that made her heart kick heavily against her ribcage, ‘I thought you’d prefer a more direct approach.’

  She had been very direct the last time they’d met, and it had saved a lot of time. He really wanted that bold seductive witch back. What would it take to cut through this act? ‘Maybe,’ he mused, appearing to consider the question, ‘I haven’t been direct enough.’

  Before she could digest his comment, let alone respond to it, he was right there beside her before she was even conscious of him moving. Then without a word he framed her face with one hand, fitting his thumb to the angle of her jaw, and tipped her face up to him. His other hand moved over the curve of her bottom, his fingers splayed across the firm contours as he dragged her closer to him, then in one smooth, seamless motion he fitted his mouth to hers.

  Izzy froze at the contact, her body stiffening in tingling shock. Then as his tongue insinuated itself between her lips, forcing them apart, a low tremulous moan was wrenched from deep inside her. He was hard and hot and she closed her eyes, stopped fighting and grabbed for him, her hands circling his neck as she opened her mouth, inviting him to deepen the slow, sensual exploration.

  The devastating kiss seemed to go on for ever, or was it seconds? Izzy had no idea. When he released her her head was spinning and she was shaking and struggling for breath. Blinking, she took a shaky step back, falling inelegantly off one heel in her agitation.

  ‘No!’ she cried, avoiding the steadying hand he had extended as she regained her balance—her pride and dignity would take a lot longe
r. What was it about this man that seemed to awake her inner cheap tart?

  Shock and shame rippled through her as she stood there wanting to hit his smugly complacent face, wanting to curl up and die from sheer shame, wanting not to be here.

  Shame or not, Izzy knew with despairing certainty that if he touched her she’d react the same way. She wrapped her arms tightly around herself as she shivered and blinked to clear the last remaining shreds of the hot haze of lust fogging her vision.

  When she made herself look at him she felt something inside her snap. Not the same something that had snapped when he had slid his tongue into her mouth, not mind-numbing lust—this was mind-awakening fury. Two years … two years of coming to terms with that night and in a few seconds she was right back to square one!

  ‘Just what was that meant to prove?’ she yelled at him as her conscience criticised her. You are such a hypocrite, Izzy. You are angry with him when you should be angry with yourself. As she was hit by a fresh wave of shame her eyes fell. He might have instigated the kiss but you sure as hell did your best to make sure it didn’t end!

  ‘That we are wasting our time talking when we should be in bed,’ he answered calmly.

  A gurgling sound of sheer disbelief escaped her clamped lips as the haze of lust descended again like a blanket. Furious with herself for inviting his response, she painted an expression of distaste onto her face while struggling to push away the images his words had planted in her head … sweat-glistening golden skin, tangles of limbs pale and dark intertwined … moans … She wasn’t even sure if the moan was part of her torrid imaginings or real. All she cared about at this point was keeping him ignorant of what was going on in her head.

  ‘My God, you do love yourself, don’t you?’ Her haughty scorn was paper thin; scratch the surface and her entire body was suffused with burning heat. Her insides shuddered with the aftershocks that still made her shake.

  At least no one had seen them; that was something. The thought was barely formed before a frantically barking dog ran out into the street. Izzy immediately recognised it as the shop owner’s excitable terrier.

  Afraid that the noise might bring someone out of the shop to investigate, she snapped a desperate, ‘Hush, Bella,’ which the dog ignored as she ran barking towards the village shop where she continued to bark as she danced around the feet of the figure standing in the doorway.

  Izzy’s heart sank to her knees as she registered the familiar figure of Emma, her eyes round with shock and her mouth open.

  ‘Izzy!’ she said as though she expected to be contradicted, her glance moving repeatedly back and forth between Izzy and the tall figure beside her.

  ‘This isn’t what it looks like, Emma.’ Except it was, it was exactly what it looked like, and this time she didn’t have trauma or alcohol to blame. It had been all her. Biting her lip, she turned to Roman, her blue gaze willing him to back her up. ‘Tell her,’ she snapped.

  ‘I don’t know what it looked like. I only know what it felt like—rather good. You haven’t lost your touch, cara.’

  In one sentence he had managed not only to confirm Emma’s suspicions, but also leave the impression that this wasn’t the first time they’d kissed.

  Her eyes narrowed with dislike, and to rub salt in the wound he looked utterly cool, except for the dark bands of colour that drew attention to the slashing angle of his sculpted cheekbones.

  Emma shook her head as though she were just waking up. ‘Wow, you and …’ She inhaled and suddenly grinned, approval beaming all over her face. ‘I said you needed some fun but I never …’ She looked at Roman and shook her head again, framing a silent Wow! behind her hand as she looked at her sister.

  ‘Emma, no, I—’

  ‘It’s fine, Izzy, totally cool. The man obviously prefers brunettes. Carry on, pretend I was never here.’ Throwing a quick cheeky grin over her shoulder, she set off down the hill as fast as her incredibly high spiky heels would take her.

  ‘Emma!’ Acting on an instinct that told her she had to stop Emma and explain to her that she couldn’t tell anyone what she had seen, Izzy hit the ground running, but she had barely covered a yard before she was physically hauled back.

  Slapping at the restraining hand on her shoulder, she spun around furiously. ‘What do you think you are doing?’ she snapped.

  He released his grip on her arm but took both her hands in his, pulling her around to face him. ‘What are you doing?’ he countered, struggling to drag his eyes above the level of her heaving bosom.

  ‘I’ve got to stop her before she tells someone that she saw us.’

  Under his olive-toned skin the fine muscles along his jaw quivered and clenched. ‘You have a baby so I’m thinking people might have guessed you’ve been kissed before,’ he drawled.

  ‘I’m sure you thrive on notoriety, but I’ll still be living here tomorrow.’

  ‘Why do you assume I thrive on notoriety?’ Roman worked very hard to protect his privacy.

  She shook her head stubbornly. ‘You’re a billionaire p-playboy.’

  The term made Roman’s firm lips twitch with amusement. ‘Playboy?’

  ‘All right, maybe not a playboy,’ she admitted. Did she even know what a playboy was? ‘But you are a billionaire.’

  Roman blinked. He had been referred to as such before but never so accusingly. ‘Which means I don’t value my privacy …?’ The furrow between his dark brows deepened as he tacked on an abrupt questioning, ‘And why?’

  She looked at him blankly. ‘What do you mean why?

  Why what?’

  ‘Why will you be here tomorrow? Didn’t you live in London? Why have you buried yourself out here in the middle of nowhere?’ Unless she had followed the father of her child?

  ‘You can’t bring up a child in a flat …’ Why am I defending my life decisions to him? ‘And anyway, this happens to be a very good place to live.’

  ‘So this is a permanent arrangement?’

  Her eyes slid from his. ‘My family lives here.’ She lifted her hands, still confined in his. ‘Do you mind? I need to catch up with Emma.’

  He let her go and watched as she rubbed her wrists even though he had not been holding her tightly. ‘You catch her and what? What are you going to do to her if she doesn’t keep your dirty little secret?’

  For the first time she picked up on the anger in his voice.

  ‘What’s going to happen if she does tell? Is the sky going to fall in?’

  Izzy loosed a scornful laugh. ‘Oh, I’m sorry, I wouldn’t want to hurt your ego by not telling the world what a great kisser you are. Would it help if I gave you marks out of ten?’ She rolled her eyes. ‘Oh, for goodness’ sake,’ she snapped. ‘Get out of my way. I have better things to do than pander to your massive ego. I have a baby who needs feeding.’

  The reminder of the child situation brought a frown to his broad brow. If he could not have a child of his own Roman did not want to play father to some other man’s … but he was willing to concede that all rules had exceptions.

  ‘Look, two years ago I was a very different person. Let me spell it out for you: I don’t have sex with rude, incredibly arrogant bores.’

  ‘ You did.’

  She gritted her teeth. ‘I must have been very drunk.’

  ‘No, you weren’t, but you were incredible.’

  Furious with herself for reacting to his smoky voice, she screened her eyes and took a deep breath, exhaling it slowly before she reacted.

  ‘Really.’ She gave a rueful grimace. ‘I’ll have to take your word for it. I’m afraid that it’s all a bit hazy for me.’

  ‘I am happy to refresh your memory. I’ve wanted to repeat the experience for a long time.’

  The man had an extraordinary ability to say the most outrageous things the way other people commented on the weather.

  ‘You want to get drunk and jump into bed with a total stranger? I don’t suppose there’s anything stopping you, but personally I like to learn from
bad experiences, not repeat them.’

  ‘Bad experience? How would you know if you don’t remember?’

  ‘I’ve met you now, so let’s call it a lucky guess.’ Izzy’s hands balled into fists at her sides as she struggled to breathe past the anger building in her chest. Did he really think she was that easy?

  No, he knows you ‘re that easy.

  ‘Anyway, what are you suggesting—the shrubbery?’ She flicked the bush to her right with her hand, causing scarlet petals from the rhododendrons to rain on the floor. ‘Or is that too romantic? What about the back seat of your car?’

  One expressive brow lifted. ‘I have a perfectly acceptable hotel room, but I’m always up for a new experience.’

  Izzy looked at him, achieving a look of amused contempt, then spoilt it by choking out, ‘You’re totally disgusting!’

  He looked taken aback by her reaction. ‘I thought you liked me that way.’

  Like! Like had nothing whatever to do with the feelings this man evoked in her. ‘I didn’t say that or anything like it!’

  Again her lie returned to taunt her. ‘How would you know, if you don’t remember anything about it? I’m not quite sure why you’re getting so worked up. I thought you were a girl who liked to cut to the chase.’

  ‘I know you think you’re totally irresistible, but for the record I find you crude and crass and quite frankly I wouldn’t touch you with a ten-foot pole!’

  ‘Actually, I’m thinking more hands-on, cara,’ he drawled. ‘So you’re not interested?’

  His amused disbelief made her long to slap his complacent, beautiful face. ‘Absolutely definitely not.’

  He shrugged. ‘A pity.’

  Izzy couldn’t decide if she was relieved or insulted that he wasn’t pushing the idea. The fact that she had doubt at all proved that her judgement was seriously flawed around this man.

  CHAPTER THREE

  IZZY walked into the hotel foyer, aware that Roman was following a few steps behind her. She stopped and turned. ‘Will you go away? Or I’ll call Security.’