A Shadow of Guilt(49)



She’d somehow managed to avoid him all evening—always flitting to and fro on the opposite side of wherever he was, and too surrounded by people eager to share in his Corretti Cup race success Gio had been trapped. Until now. His whole body tingled and arousal was fierce and immediate. He’d had a vision of her in this dress as soon as he’d seen it but the reality was far more stupendous.

Her hair was up, in a slightly messy chignon, exposing her long delicate neck. Her shoulders were bare and pale. Her breasts swelled against the heart-shaped neckline of the dress and tight bodice before it fell to the floor in a swathe of silk and chiffon.

She wore no jewellery, and a minimum of make-up. And she was more beautiful than any other woman there. A fact which seemed to have impacted on not only him. Gio saw a lurching movement towards her and recognised the French playboy.

Gio was moving before he’d even realised his intention and he pushed down the memory of her words earlier, how deeply they’d cut into him. He’d followed her outside after their exchange with Angelo because he’d been stunned at how she’d defended him. He should have realised that it had meant nothing.

The hurt from earlier solidified in his belly and he blocked it out, welcoming the heat in his blood. This was all he wanted, this oblivion she could give him. And hate herself for, a small voice reminded him. He was too weak to turn back now and his vision went red when he saw his erstwhile friend reach Valentina and clamp a hand around her arm.

Valentina had just arrived back into the VIP tent. Instinctively she found herself searching out a familiar tall and broad figure when her eyes adjusted to the artfully lit space. When she didn’t see him immediately she blocked out the way her belly hollowed out. She felt very exposed, as if she was sending Gio some silent message because after a long intense internal struggle earlier, she’d finally put on one of the dresses Gio had bought for her.

It, and the matching underwear, felt exactly as decadent as she’d feared it would, along with the very scary sense of being on tenterhooks all evening, waiting to see Gio and his reaction. Before she could look further though, her arm was taken in a harsh grip.

She looked up, surprised, into the arrogant features of the French playboy who had been trying to chat her up the other night. She could see in an instant that he was inebriated. His already harsh grip tightened and immediately Valentina recoiled back, and tried to free herself but he hung on.

‘Please let me go, Monsieur Lagarde.’ She tried to keep her voice calm and reasonable over the sound of the crowd and the auctioneer.

‘Oh, please …’ he slurred. ‘Surely we can be on first name terms, non? Call me Pierre….’

Valentina struggled again to free her arm, feeling a sliver of trepidation snake down her spine when she realised that he’d somehow manoeuvred them so that they were hidden from view behind a tall plant.

‘You are so beautiful….’

He had both her arms in his hands now and Valentina felt panic claw upwards. He was huge, looming over her with his huge bulk. And then just as suddenly as the panic had risen, he was being lifted away from her as if by some magical force, his hands gone from her arms, making her stumble forward slightly.

He was replaced by a grim-looking Gio and all Valentina could see of Pierre was two of the discreet security men escorting him outside.

Gio cursed and came closer. ‘He’s bruised your arms.’

Valentina looked down stupidly and saw the red marks of his fingers. It was only then that she realised how scared she’d been for a few seconds. She looked up at Gio, aghast at the helpless emotion rising up within her, and knew shamefully that it had more to do with the man in front of her than what had just happened. She blinked rapidly to keep it back, but failed miserably.

Gio cursed again and she was being enveloped in his arms. Valentina felt faint with relief and how good it felt to have him hold her. Guilt compounded her as she soaked in his strength when she thought of what she’d said earlier.

She pulled back within his arms and looked up, words trembling on her lips. But once again Gio just put a finger to her mouth, silencing her. He shook his head. ‘Don’t say it.’

Valentina swallowed and spoke against his finger. ‘But you don’t know what I’m going to say.’

‘I don’t need to hear it, all I need is you.’

Valentina knew that if she was to pull free of Gio now, step back and say she didn’t want him, he would let her go. He might not want to, but he would. It was etched into every tightly held muscle in his body.

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