A Sicilian Husband. Kate WalkerЧитать онлайн книгу.
“I wouldn’t want you to think…I mean—I don’t normally let…”
To her embarrassment, the faint lift of one black eyebrow mocked the struggle she had to get her words out.
“I don’t normally talk to strange men in bars.”
Was she truly as nervous as she sounded? Gio wondered. Or was it just an act? Surely the woman who had given him such a deliberate and unashamed appraisal couldn’t now be feeling uncertain and ill at ease.
“And I don’t normally talk to women I don’t know, either,” he returned smoothly.
The faint scent of her body mixed with a light, floral perfume to send a sensual message straight to his brain, making his body harden in hungry demand. But rushing things would be a mistake. The evening would be much more enjoyable if he took his time and enjoyed the journey as well as the final arrival at his destination.
And the conquest would be all the sweeter as a result.
“So why don’t we introduce ourselves, and then neither of us will be complete strangers?”
Mamma Mia!
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A Sicilian Husband
Kate Walker
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CONTENTS
THE man at the other side of the bar was beautiful.
Beautiful.
Terrie could find no other word to describe him that fitted those devastating looks quite so well. And she had tried. Because beautiful didn’t seem like quite the right word to use about someone so masculine, so totally male. And yet it was the only one that worked.
She’d tried handsome and it was too weak, too ‘pretty’ somehow. It didn’t allow for the straight, firm slash of a nose, the sharply defined cheekbones. And good-looking was way too bland. This man was more than good-looking—he was superb!
Attractive didn’t even come near the truth, and, although gorgeous fitted with the lush warmth of his mouth, the stunning deep, deep brown of his eyes, the sleek olive skin that gave away the fact that he was most definitely not English, both attractive and gorgeous lacked the hard edge that this man wore like a suit of armour, the hint of danger that lurked in those deep-set eyes. And she suspected that that mouth, although apparently sensual, could soon harden to a dangerously cruel line.
His disturbing blend of supreme confidence, bordering on arrogance, and an aura of total ease in his surroundings and himself made him stand out in the crowded room as clearly as if a spotlight had been switched on, its beam centring on the glossy mane of jet-black hair.
No, beautiful was the only word that was right. He had a starkly masculine beauty that had caught and held her attention from the moment she had walked into the room. And now she couldn’t drag her eyes away, even though she suspected that the intensity of her gaze must soon get through to him. Surely he would sense that someone was staring at him, feel it like a faint touch on his skin—and then he would look up.
And even as she thought it, the heavy-hooded lids that had been lowered suddenly lifted, and the burning golden-bronze eyes blazed into hers through lush black lashes.
And the look of cold disdain, the molten glare he turned on her, the obvious distance that