Chapter Six

Her steps carried her around the next corner into a room that looked more like a gallery, filled with shelves of old, bound books carefully displayed. She held her breath as her fingers itched to caress the binding of old leather and relish the sound of crackling as she turned the pages steeped in history.

“Ah, so to get you to notice me tonight, I should turn into a book, no?”

She spun around. A man stood in the doorway, his eyes filled with a mischievous humor she knew to be a part of his core. His hair was long and caught back in a low ponytail, giving him the look of a pirate who had charmed women for centuries. His lips were full and his nose dominated his strong features in typical Italian style. Dressed in black pants, a black silk shirt, and expensive leather shoes, he exhibited a graceful, seductive air just by standing. Maya knew immediately the man was charming, warm-hearted, and deadly to women. The thought made a smile curve her lips.

She had a soft spot for womanizing Italian men. They reminded her of puffed up peacocks who inwardly wished to be kept in line by the right woman.

“Oh, I noticed you.” She turned her back and resumed her study of the books. “I knew you’d get to me by the end of the night.”

“And were you looking forward to the moment, Signorina?”

“With baited breath. So, should we use one of the bedrooms here or go back to your place?”

A shocked silence descended.

Maya peeked over her shoulder. A mixture of disappointment and temptation carved out his features. Maya bet he missed the idea of a chase, but didn’t want to turn down such an offer. A delighted laugh bubbled to her lips at his obvious conflict and sudden loss of confidence.

A knowing light gleamed in dark eyes. “You are teasing, no?”

She turned to face him, still laughing. “I guess I am.”

He shook his head with amusement. “You are a wicked woman to tempt a man like that.”

“You are a wicked man to think a woman would do such a thing.”

“Perhaps, you are right. A woman like you should have a husband watching at all times. Such a treasure could be stolen at any moment.”

“Ah, but if I were a true treasure, I wouldn’t be stolen easily. Certainly not by the first line thrown at me.”

He pretended offense. “Signorina, I would never insult you by thinking it would not be a long treasure hunt. You’d require a lot of work.”

“Signora,” she corrected. “I am married.”

His face pulled into a low, sad look. “Pity.”

“Somehow, I think you knew.”

“Perhaps. But let me introduce myself formally. I am Dennis Michael.”

“Maya Davis..., Maya Smith.”

He caught her slip-up and seemed to make a mental note. “Newly married, yes?”

“Yes.”

“Yet you wander the hallways alone, and were not seen in the company of your husband all night.” He shook his head. “These American ways are tragic.”

“My husband is here on business.”

“Alex Smith , correct?”

She nodded. “You should know him well. He’s making a pitch for the waterfront deal.”

Michael kept his face neutral. Obviously, behind his charming facade lurked a sharp businessman and she bet he knew her identity when he approached. Alex underestimated Michael if he believed a conversation would soften him. This man obviously kept business and pleasure in two separate worlds.

“I have not had the pleasure of meeting him as of yet.” He leaned in ever so slightly. His musky cologne rose in the air between them. His eyes met and held her own. She waited for a blast of sexual energy, a hum of chemistry, a note of hunger to shake her body and confirm Alex Smith wasn’t the cause of her problems.

Nothing. Not even a spark.

With a tiny inward sigh, she resigned herself to battling her attraction for Alex and admitted maybe she still harbored a crush from her girlhood days.

If Dennis Michael couldn’t stir a shred of sexual emotion, she was in deep trouble.

Maya sighed. “I think you will love my husband as much as I do,” she said.

He received her message and accepted the implication with grace. “We shall see. As for us, we will be friends, no?”

She smiled. “Yes. Friends.”

“I will accompany you back to the dining room for a cordial and you will tell me all about yourself.”

She accepted his arm and allowed herself to be led out of the library.

“You know, Michael, I think I have the perfect woman for you. She’s a close friend of mine. And she may be your match.”

“You underestimate yourself, signora.” He gave a naughty wink. “I am still grieving your loss.”

She laughed as they entered the dining room, then looked up in surprise when her husband stepped in front of them. He towered over her with an intimidating air. She opened her mouth to speak, but he reached out and pulled her into his embrace. A moment passed before she was able to form the words. “Hello, darling. I was chatting with Michael. I don’t think you two have formally met yet?”

The men sized each other up like they would just before a cock fight.

Alex was the first to surrender. Probably for good business reasons and not anything to do with testosterone.

Alex offered his hand. “Michael, how are you? I see you’ve met my wife.”

Michael shook his hand and Maya studied her husband’s expression with sheer puzzlement. Was she crazy, or did he not want her to engage Dennis Michael with her sparkling conversation? Hadn’t he hinted he wanted inside information if at all possible? Now he just looked plain irritated, as if she had betrayed him.

The clean scent of soap and lemon rose from his skin. His fingers splayed around her waist and rested on the curve of her tummy. She fought back a shudder when she imagined his hand coasting just a few inches downward.

How would it feel to have his fingers deep inside her, taking her to places she ached to go, but was too afraid to visit?

She re-focused on their conversation.

“Congratulations, Alex. Maya tells me you are newlyweds. How difficult it must be to drag yourself to a business function, no?”

“Absolutely.” His head lowered. Her breath hitched as his lips grazed her lobe, and his nose nuzzled her ear. Her nipples grew hard and tingly. She prayed her padded bra hid the evidence of her body’s betrayal.