to die for it.
Tim Wealth was her recurring nightmare.
Lina kept on pleading with Carlo to dance with her. 'I do not dance,' he said politely, dismissing her with an elegant wave of his hand.
'Then I guess I'll 'ave to make do with you, Fredo,' Lina said, jumping up, her long lean body already moving to the beat. 'Let's go show 'em how it's done,' she said, dragging him on to the crowded dance floor.
Brigette stared straight ahead, her mind still on Tim.
'What are you thinking?' Carlo asked, sliding along the banquette, getting uncomfortably close.
She noticed that he had hardly any accent at all, and she wondered where he'd learned English. Lina was right, he was a babe, only she was totally uninterested.
'Oh… stuff,' she replied vaguely, sipping more champagne because he made her nervous.
'You are different from other girls,' he remarked.
'What "other girls" did you have in mind?' she asked flippantly.
'Every time I come to New York, Fredo attempts to impress me with his model friends. They are usually quite stupid. Beautiful but dumb.'
'Now that's a myth,' Brigette said, annoyed that he would lump every model into the same category. 'All models are not dumb.'
'I can see that now,' Carlo said, his probing ice blue eyes making her more and more uncomfortable.
She took another gulp of champagne. 'Uh… I'm quite tired,' she said. 'Would you mind if I took a cab home?'
'It's still early,' Carlo pointed out. 'Besides, I cannot allow you to go home alone.
A gentleman would never do that.'
'Nobody minds,' she said, feeling suddenly hot and flustered.
'I do,' he said, putting his hand on her arm.
His touch made her even more nervous. She edged away. 'Y' know,' she said, struggling to stay sober, 'Lina really likes you.'
'I like her too,' he answered mildly. 'That doesn't mean I have to be with her, does it?'
And then his eyes were all over her again, and she didn't know what to do. For the first time in a long while she felt a slight flicker of something. Was it attraction? Fear? Too much champagne? She wasn't quite sure.
She stood up from the table, swaying slightly because she was not used to drinking so much. 'I absolutely have to go,' she said, feeling dizzy and lightheaded. 'Please say good night to everyone for me.'
He stood also. He was much taller than she, and he had extremely broad shoulders. He smelt of some masculine scent that she found quite intoxicating.
'I will escort you home and come back,' he said.
'I told you, it's not necessary,' she said, panicking slightly as the room began to spin.
'I will be most insulted if you don't allow me to do this.'
Who cares? she wanted to scream. Who cares if I insult you?
'Come,' he said, taking her arm. 'I will have the maitre d' inform our friends that I shall return shortly.'
What could she do? Lina and Fredo were on the dance floor, lost in a sea of gyrating bodies. And she knew if she didn't get out of there fast she might faint.
'Okay,' she said at last, knowing she should have said no, absolutely not, but somehow or other, Carlo had managed to penetrate her defenses.
They got into a cab outside the club and rode in silence to her apartment. She closed her eyes and almost fell asleep. When they arrived she leaned across the seat and attempted to shake his hand. 'Thanks for bringing me home. Good night.'
'An Italian gentleman would never allow a lady to go up to her apartment alone,'
he said. 'I will escort you to your door.'
'No, please,' she protested, getting out of the cab. 'I'm perfectly safe.'
But he was already right behind her.
They walked into the building together, past the night porter, into the elevator and up to her apartment. She fumbled in her purse for her key, found it, and couldn't fit it in the lock.
Very gently he removed the key from her trembling hands and inserted it himself.
Before she knew it he was in the apartment with her.
Why are my hands shaking? she thought, furious with herself. Why am I allowing him to
Tim Wealth was her recurring nightmare.
Lina kept on pleading with Carlo to dance with her. 'I do not dance,' he said politely, dismissing her with an elegant wave of his hand.
'Then I guess I'll 'ave to make do with you, Fredo,' Lina said, jumping up, her long lean body already moving to the beat. 'Let's go show 'em how it's done,' she said, dragging him on to the crowded dance floor.
Brigette stared straight ahead, her mind still on Tim.
'What are you thinking?' Carlo asked, sliding along the banquette, getting uncomfortably close.
She noticed that he had hardly any accent at all, and she wondered where he'd learned English. Lina was right, he was a babe, only she was totally uninterested.
'Oh… stuff,' she replied vaguely, sipping more champagne because he made her nervous.
'You are different from other girls,' he remarked.
'What "other girls" did you have in mind?' she asked flippantly.
'Every time I come to New York, Fredo attempts to impress me with his model friends. They are usually quite stupid. Beautiful but dumb.'
'Now that's a myth,' Brigette said, annoyed that he would lump every model into the same category. 'All models are not dumb.'
'I can see that now,' Carlo said, his probing ice blue eyes making her more and more uncomfortable.
She took another gulp of champagne. 'Uh… I'm quite tired,' she said. 'Would you mind if I took a cab home?'
'It's still early,' Carlo pointed out. 'Besides, I cannot allow you to go home alone.
A gentleman would never do that.'
'Nobody minds,' she said, feeling suddenly hot and flustered.
'I do,' he said, putting his hand on her arm.
His touch made her even more nervous. She edged away. 'Y' know,' she said, struggling to stay sober, 'Lina really likes you.'
'I like her too,' he answered mildly. 'That doesn't mean I have to be with her, does it?'
And then his eyes were all over her again, and she didn't know what to do. For the first time in a long while she felt a slight flicker of something. Was it attraction? Fear? Too much champagne? She wasn't quite sure.
She stood up from the table, swaying slightly because she was not used to drinking so much. 'I absolutely have to go,' she said, feeling dizzy and lightheaded. 'Please say good night to everyone for me.'
He stood also. He was much taller than she, and he had extremely broad shoulders. He smelt of some masculine scent that she found quite intoxicating.
'I will escort you home and come back,' he said.
'I told you, it's not necessary,' she said, panicking slightly as the room began to spin.
'I will be most insulted if you don't allow me to do this.'
Who cares? she wanted to scream. Who cares if I insult you?
'Come,' he said, taking her arm. 'I will have the maitre d' inform our friends that I shall return shortly.'
What could she do? Lina and Fredo were on the dance floor, lost in a sea of gyrating bodies. And she knew if she didn't get out of there fast she might faint.
'Okay,' she said at last, knowing she should have said no, absolutely not, but somehow or other, Carlo had managed to penetrate her defenses.
They got into a cab outside the club and rode in silence to her apartment. She closed her eyes and almost fell asleep. When they arrived she leaned across the seat and attempted to shake his hand. 'Thanks for bringing me home. Good night.'
'An Italian gentleman would never allow a lady to go up to her apartment alone,'
he said. 'I will escort you to your door.'
'No, please,' she protested, getting out of the cab. 'I'm perfectly safe.'
But he was already right behind her.
They walked into the building together, past the night porter, into the elevator and up to her apartment. She fumbled in her purse for her key, found it, and couldn't fit it in the lock.
Very gently he removed the key from her trembling hands and inserted it himself.
Before she knew it he was in the apartment with her.
Why are my hands shaking? she thought, furious with herself. Why am I allowing him to
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