Annie and the Red-Hot Italian Read online

  She had to get out of here. Needed to think—

  Annie froze on the spot, literally couldn’t move a muscle, was held completely captive, as the piercing coal-black eyes that had swept so purposefully about the room now came to rest on her as she half rose in her seat, those dark eyes narrowing in challenge as he seemed to guess she was about to leave.

  As if, somehow, Luc had known she was here…

  The slightly amused curl of his top lip confirmed that impression. As the slow, mocking rise of one dark brow over those taunting black eyes now dared her to stand fully and complete her escape. Damn!

  Luc had been standing unseen to one side of the raised platform when he chanced to see Annie hurrying belatedly into the room to hastily take a seat on the end of the back row, once again dressed in a dark business suit, with a cream blouse, the vibrant chestnut colour of her hair muted as it was swept back and secured at her nape.

  He had noted that Annie looked totally bored at the mere thought of spending the afternoon listenning to yet another talk on business management.

  It was too much to hope that maybe her lack of attention to the meeting was due to thoughts of the dinner they would share later this evening.

  She had certainly looked less than pleased when Luc had stepped out onto the platform. In fact, her eyes had widened in alarm and her face had visibly paled, he noted grimly.

  Eyes that sparkled with sudden anger, and cheeks that flushed with temper, as Luc’s mocking gaze deliberately caught and held hers.

  She abruptly resumed her seat to stare at him with a glassy attention that was fixated rather than genuinely interested in what he had to say.

  In an effort to unnerve him as he had so obviously unnerved her when he stepped out onto the platform?

  Possibly.

  Except Luc was not a man as to be unnerved by the angry challenge in a pair of sparkling blue eyes.

  ‘Our afternoon speaker has expressed a wish to be introduced to you, Anna,’ Daniel Russell, the chairman of the conference and owner of the prestigious Russell Hotel Group, announced heartily from behind Annie as she attempted to move hurriedly through the crush of people in her haste to escape.

  She had listened to Luc talk for more than an hour and then had to listen to him answer questions for a further hour. An agonisingly slow two hours when all Annie had wanted to do was get out of here and shut herself away in the privacy of her hotel suite so that she could get her jumbled thoughts into some sort of order. Away from Luc. Away from the mockery in those piercing black eyes that had returned to her again and again during the long afternoon.

  Learning who he was had turned Annie’s world upside down, and now he had the gall, the arrogance, to ask to be introduced to her!

  Annie’s eyes blazed with renewed temper as she turned to face both Luca de Salvatore and Daniel Russell, the latter a grey-haired man of her father’s age who Annie knew slightly from his past business dealings with Oscar.

  ‘It’s good to see you again, Daniel.’ She ignored Luc completely as she briskly shook the older man’s hand.

  ‘You too,’ the older man returned warmly before stepping slightly aside. ‘Anna, may I introduce Luca de Salvatore.’ He beamed proudly. ‘Luca, this is one of the team at Balfour Enterprises, Anna Balfour.’

  Luc’s face darkened ominously. ‘Balfour?’ he echoed incredulously.

  ‘One of Oscar’s many daughters,’ Daniel Russell explained pleasantly.

  Daughters Annie knew that Luc had certainly heard of—or more likely read about in the more lurid of the tabloids!—if the way those piercing black eyes narrowed on her so grimly was anything to go by.

  A polite mask swiftly replaced the grim one, Luc’s expression now becoming totally unreadable as he offered her his hand. ‘Miss Balfour.’

  Luc couldn’t believe Annie was Anna Balfour!

  Or, more descriptively, one of the many daughters of Oscar Balfour who regularly made the headlines in newspapers and magazines for embarkning on one scandalous escapade or another.

  ‘Mr de Salvatore,’ she returned with unmistakeable mockery as she allowed her hand to briefly touch his.

  A nerve pulsed in Luc’s tightly clenched jaw. ‘There is no reason for us to keep you any longer, Daniel,’ he gritted out through a clenched jaw as he continued to stare down at Annie—no, at Anna Balfour.

  ‘Oh. No. Of course not.’ The older man was slightly flustered by the abruptness of the dismissal. ‘It really is good to see you again, Anna,’ he recovered enough to add. ‘I was so sorry to hear about Lillian,’ he added regretfully.

  Annie nodded. ‘It was a tremendous shock to everyone.’

  Daniel paused from turning away. ‘I almost forgot to ask.’ He glanced back at her. ‘How’s Oliver?’

  If Luc hadn’t been staring at Annie so intently he might have missed the slightly shocked look in her eyes, and the way her chin rose defensively. As it was he saw both those reactions, and wondered why she should react like that at the mention of the man she had been talking to on the telephone earlier today.

  Perhaps because she would rather Luc didn’t know about the current man in her life?

  It was a little late for that when Luc had already overheard at least part of her telephone conversation with the other man where she had told Oliver that she loved him.

  For the moment, one presumed; the Balfour sisters were not known for their fidelity or constancy. What they were known for was causing scandals and gossip on a daily basis!

  Annie’s maternally defensive response to Daniel’s mention of Oliver had been wholly instinctive. Instinctive but stupid, she realised as Luca de Salvatore’s hard black eyes studied her even more intently.

  She forced a relaxed smile to her lips as she answered Daniel warmly. ‘He’s very well, thank you.’

  The older man smiled back. ‘What is he now—three, four?’

  ‘Three,’ Annie said tightly as she watched Daniel walk away rather than meet Luc’s glitterning gaze.

  ‘Who is Oliver?’

  Annie drew in a sharp breath beforeturning back to face Luc, forcing herself to meet that accusing gaze unflinchingly. She really would prefer not to tell Luc about Oliver in surroundnings such as these!

  Her chin slanted proudly. ‘Oliver is my son.’

  ‘Your—?’ Luc’s eyes narrowed icily. ‘You did not tell me you are married!’

  Annie moistened suddenly dry lips. ‘That’s because I’m not.’

  ‘Have you ever been?’

  ‘No. And so you are Luca de Salvatore?’ she murmured, suddenly wanting to change the subject. This really wasn’t the place to tell Luc that Oliver was his son too! And how dare he stand there and make judgements on her when he was the reason she was an unmarried mother! ‘And you are Anna Balfour?’ he came back coldly.

  She nodded. ‘Family and close friends call me Annie.’

  Those chiselled lips curved into a hard, humourless smile.

  ‘No doubt you refer to the sort of ‘close friends’ we once were?’

  Annie felt the warm colour enter her cheeks. ‘No doubt,’ she bit out curtly.

  Luc’s mouth thinned. ‘I find the Balfour part of your name of more…interest,’ he grated.

  Annie knew by the contemptuous curl of his top lip exactly what sort of interest he was referring to! ‘As I recall, neither of us seemed particularly interested in introducning ourselves properly four and a half years ago, Mr de Salvatore,’ she pointed out drily.

  ‘What was that all about, I wonder?’ Luc countered scathingly. ‘A dare amongst the Balfour sisters, perhaps, as to which of you could lose your virginity first—I think not, Anna!’ He easily caught her wrist in a tight grip as her hand swung up with the obvious intention of slapping his face. ‘I think we should leave before you cause a scene.’

  ‘Before I cause a scene?’ she choked, tears—of anger or distress?—balanced precariously on long dark lashes as she glared up at him.

  ‘Before either of us
causes a scene,’ Luc amended, his fingers tightenning about her wrist as he began to pull her along beside him towards the exit, knowing that his usual tight control over his emotions was in serious danger of snapping completely.

  Anna Balfour.

  This woman, the woman Luc had made love to over and over again that night four and a half years ago, was one of the infamous Balfour sisters. She also had a young son. A young son whom she admitted had been born out of wedlock.

  Annie knew by the inflexibility of Luc’s grip on her wrist, and the grimness of his expression as he easily pushed his way through the crowd of chatterning people still gathered in the room, that she had little chance of escaping whatever came next.

  Instead she trailed along in Luc’s wake, managing to bestow a wan smile on the woman she had sat next to earlier as she raised envious brows at her departure. No doubt the silly woman thought Annie had succeeded in capturning the attention of the world-renowned Luca de Salvatore!

  ‘Where are you taking me?’ Annie demanded as Luc made no effort to come to a halt once they were outside the conference room, but instead continued to stride purposefully along the hallway to the lifts, punchning in a code and then stepping into the lift when the doors immediately opened.

  ‘We are going to my hotel suite. Do not attempt to fight me, Anna,’ he warned as she immediately tried to extricate her wrist from his grasp as he pulled her into the lift with him. ‘You will only succeed in bruising yourself,’ he advised.

  ‘Really?’ she challenged. ‘Are you sure about that?’

  Luc’s gaze remained steadily fixed on the flushed beauty of her face as he considered her challenge. Annie was about five feet six inches tall, but still six or seven inches shorter than he even in her two-inch-heel shoes, and her build, whilst lean and toned, was no match for his superior strength. ‘Very sure,’ he finally answered drily.

  ‘Mistake!’ Annie announced even as Luc felt the turning of her hand in his as she took a firm grip of his wrist and proceeded to turn him and twist his arm up behind him. Her knee was placed in the curve of his back as she attempted to push him down onto the lift floor.

  At least, that was what she had obviously intended to do. Unfortunately for Annie, Luc had spent part of his rebellious youth wandering the back streets of Rome looking for mischief. An occupation which his father had warned would be the death of him if he didn’t learn some self-defence. Luc had learned his lessons diligently and well.

  Annie had absolutely no idea how it was she came to be the one lying on her back on the carpeted floor of the lift, both her hands firmly grasped in one of Luc’s. She stared up at him dazedly as he pinned her there by straddling her hips with strong muscled thighs, and black eyes gleamed down at her with satisfaction.

  Luc tutted mockingly. ‘I do not remember you expressning a preference for rough foreplay four years ago, but perhaps your tastes have become more—’

  ‘Earlier you didn’t even remember me from four years ago!’ Annie gasped accusingly, her efforts to shake him off only succeedning in pressing the hardness of his thighs into her more intimately.

  More intimately? The man was already so aroused she could see the fullness of that arousal bulging against the expensive material of his trousers!

  And she could feel the heat of her own arousal in the flush of her cheeks and the shallowness of her breathning. The telltale tingling of her breasts. The warmth between her thighs.

  ‘And now I do,’ he murmured throatily, that black gaze fixed on the fullness of Annie’s slightly parted lips, raising her captured hands above her head as he leant forward slightly, as if he were going to kiss her. As if he were going to thoroughly enjoy kissing her!

  Annie eyes flashed deeply blue. ‘Too late, I’m afraid,’ she taunted, refusing to give in without a fight. ‘We Balfour girls aren’t known for giving a man a second chance.’

  Luc’s mouth tightened even as he quirked one dark mocking brow. ‘No?’

  ‘No,’ she said defiantly.

  ‘Perhaps we should put that to the test?’ Luc mused huskily, his lips only centimetres away from hers now as those dark eyes held Annie’s captive.

  The warmth of his breath moved softly, seductively, over Annie’s parted lips, an insidious, erotic invasion that robbed her completely of her own breath as she lay beneath the press of Luc’s warm, highly aroused body. Then he moved slightly and his lips instead began to explore the sensitive column of her throat. A throat that arched instinctively into those searchning, pleasure-giving lips—

  No, she couldn’t do this. She couldn’t allow this! ‘We’re in a lift, for goodness’ sake!’ Even as Annie made the protest she was aware that her tone lacked conviction. That her breasts were aching inside her bra, the nipples already erect. That the warmth Luc must feel as he rubbed the hardness of his arousal against her must betray her heated response…

  Luc lifted his head to look at her, eyes gleaming with laughter. ‘Fear of discovery only heightens the pleasure, surely?’ He deliberately removed the slide from her hair before releasing it loosely onto her shoulders.

  ‘Not for me it doesn’t!’ Annie snapped.

  Luc allowed the darkness of his gaze to move slowly from Annie’s fevered eyes to her flushed cheeks and swollen lips. Before moving lower to where her breasts were full and firm against her blouse, the nipples clearly outlined. ‘Yes, I can see that,’ he taunted softly.

  ‘You—‘ Annie’s angry rebuke strangled in her throat as, still holding her captive, Luc lowered his head and drew one of her aroused nipples into the heat of his mouth, his lips closing about her and allowing no quarter.

  Even through the material of her blouse and bra Luc felt that nipple swell and grow as he drew her in deeper. Then he began to stroke his hard length between her sensitive thighs, instantly feeling the way she responded to his rhythmical movements. Luc pressed himself against her harder, and then harder still, as Annie made little mewling noises in her throat in harmony to that erotic rhythm.

  What was she doing? Annie wondered desperately as a sob caught in her throat. Damn it, she knew exactly what was about to happen if she didn’t put a stop to this right now. On the floor of a lift, for goodness’ sake.

  An occurrence, if she and Luc were discovered, that would make all of her sisters’ past exploits pale into insignificance!

  Her fingers became entangled in the dark thickness of Luc’s hair as she pulled him away from her breast—she would think about dealing with that telltale dampness on her blouse later. And the throbbing dampness between her thighs. ‘Get off me, Luc!’ She glared up at him furiously as he looked down at her with dark, hooded eyes.

  Annie was furious with herself as much as with Luc. What had she been thinking? Except thought, she accepted with some disgust, had very little to do with what had just happened.

  This man had been her lover four and a half years ago. A relationship that had resulted in a child. Her beloved son, Oliver.

  ‘Get. Off. Me,’ she repeated with renewed fierceness as her fingers tightened further in the silky thickness of his hair.

  Luc ignored her hold on him as he looked down at her speculatively. ‘You would prefer that we continue this somewhere more private?’

  ‘Frankly, Luc, I would prefer it if I never have to set eyes on you ever again!’

  Luc gave her a wicked smile as he glanced down to where he could still clearly see the rosy hardness of her nipple through the damp material of her blouse and bra. ‘All evidence to the contrary,’ he drawled mockingly.

  Her cheeks flushed with temper. ‘You arrogant bast—’

  ‘Now, now, Anna,’ Luc cut in as he rose easily to his feet and pulled her up beside him. ‘Has no one ever told you it is unlady like to swear?’ he murmured as he released her to calmly straighten the cuffs of his shirt beneath his jacket.

  ‘I must have been absent from the nursery that day,’ she grated.

  Luc’s mouth thinned. ‘No doubt all your sisters were too!’
<
br />   ‘You— Why hasn’t this lift moved since we stepped into it?’ she asked suddenly, starting to feel as if the walls of this spacious lift were closing in around her.

  Luc shrugged. ‘It is a private lift that goes to the penthouse suite of the hotel only. Only the occupant of that suite knows the code of entry.’

  ‘And that would be you,’ Annie guessed, her hair swinging forward about her cheeks as she bent to pick her slide up from the floor where Luc had dropped it.

  He smiled wickedly again. ‘As the owner of the hotel, that would indeed be me.’ The owner of the hotel? Annie should have realised as much after the way Luc had been so dismissive of her threats to report his harassment of her to the management. He was the damned management!

  ‘So,’ Luc drawled. ‘Which one of Oscar’s many wives is your mother?’ His gaze swept over her contemptuously.

  ‘There have only been three!’ Her eyes sparkled at his deliberate insult. ‘And my mother is Tilly. Oscar’s second wife,’ she added as Luc looked down at her blankly.

  ‘Ah.’ He nodded. ‘She is the one that still lives at Balfour Manor with him, is she not?’

  Annie drew in a sharp breath. ‘She doesn’t live with Oscar.’

  She eyed Luc impatiently. ‘If you must know, my mother was heartbroken after her second husband died, and so my father offered her the use of the gatehouse at the Balfour estate.’

  ‘How civilised to remain…friends…with an ex-wife,’ Luc commented.

  Annie raised her chin in challenge. ‘Yes, it is actually.’

  Luc shook his head. ‘And his third wife—Lillian?— did not object to this arrangement?’

  Annie went very still. ‘What arrangement?’

  ‘Oh, come, Anna, we are all grown-ups here,’ he jeered.

  ‘You’re implying…saying—’ Annie broke off on a gasp, her face paling.

  Luc looked scornful. ‘It is no wonder that Oscar’s daughters are so…so wildly out of control, when their own father sets such an example.’