Page 122 of Love Among the Ruins
Tall, gorgeous and in a tux, he pulled his bowtie off. His eyes glittered as he stared at her. “Hello.” One word, so low, so sexy in that voice that was unusually gravelly.
“Oh … hi.”
“Eating alone?” He moved closer, each step nearer making her heart rate rocket. Even though she was eating, her stomach emptied, turned hollow and light.
“I waited for you.” In the eerie silence, only punctuated by the sound of cicadas, she tried to slow down her breathing.
Seeing him in his business suit was bad enough—the man jolted her each time she saw him, the image of his pants hugging those supremely sculpted buttocks, the way his cotton fabric strained just enough at his biceps, holding her attention until she forgot to breathe. Every time. But now, in his tux, this was a dapper Dominic, suave and devastatingly handsome. It would take weeks for her to dislodge this image from her head.
She blinked ... then prayed silently that she wasn’t doing a Miranda.
“I should have texted to let you know.”
“Why didn’t you?” That sounded angrier than she’d intended. He cocked his head as if appraising her mood. “Xenia made you something to eat.”
“It’s delicious. You should have some.”
Dominic waved a dismissive hand, as if he wasn’t fazed. He pulled out a chair across from her and sat down, sitting casually, with his arm draped across the empty chair next to him, and one of his legs lazily out, his foot pointing towards her. She tried not to look, to not make it so blatantly obvious that she was dying to rake her eyes inch by inch all over him.
The fork she was about to lift to her mouth went back onto the plate. She didn’t like people watching her eat, especially people she was attracted to.
Like this man watching her across the table. Her skin started to tingle, the way it had started to recently whenever Dominic was around.
The Steele tingle. It was fast becoming a thing.
She’s made a mistake in coming here and offering to be his fake date. They’d only spent five minutes together and it was already torture. Here in the villa, away from work, he’d already reduced her to a lust addled wreck. The ambiance, the lights and pool, the intimacy of just him and her in this huge place, was frying her brain.
It took all her reserves of steely determination to keep her eyes level with his, and her voice casual. “You’re ... you’re not hungry?” she managed to say, forcing herself to breathe slowly, to try to show a modicum of composure, to hide the combustion taking place inside her.
“I had some canapes.”
“Canapes?” Her insides spiraled. It was so obvious that he’d been to an event. Without her.
“A pre-wedding party. I was hoping Galatis might be there, so that we could get the business stuff out of the way.”
He’d gone without her. “You didn’t think to take me?” The neediness in her voice made her ashamed. “One of the reasons you brought me along was for Galatis. You flew me first class ...”
He frowned. “Because I didn’t have the jet at my disposal.”
She shook her head. They were on different continents, literally and metaphorically. “You’re missing the point.” She was forced to eat, because the silence, waiting for him to say something, weighted the air with foreboding.
He stared at her pointedly, a brow lifting. “I didn’t think you’d want to come along.”
“You didn’t even ask me.”
“Are you annoyed I didn’t ask you?”
I was here for a reason.
Maybe he regretted her being here. Maybe being around his peers changed him. Maybe the wedding of his ex rekindled old feelings. Maybe he was ashamed of having her by his side.
Maybe that was why he hadn’t asked her tonight.
“I’m supposed to be your fake date.” This place, him, it was all too much. She forced a smile. “I want to make sure that I’m fulfilling my end of the deal.” She lifted another forkful of food to her mouth but it was getting harder to swallow. Her mouth was bone dry, her appetite slowly vanishing. The orzo that had been so delicious a moment ago, now felt as if she were forcing dry hay into her mouth.
“Eleni.”
Her eyes went to his arm as he moved it from the chair, resting both hands on the table. He looked as if he was about to stand up.
