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His tongue slipped into her mouth. Firm, but soft. Hot and moist. Teasing. Every touch enflamed her. She burned for him and wanted even more, her own mouth wide and greedy. She could feel the brush of his stubble on her cheeks, his lips damp with her kiss. He was the most amazing man and he was kissing her with such mastery, undoing her…
Suddenly the dogs barked. The door opened.
Coral gasped and jumped back.
‘Ah, Salvatore. You’re here,’ said Raffaele.
Salvatore stopped in his tracks and stared.
‘This is Coral. She is the “adorable girl” who has been photographing your fiancée all day.’
Coral hugged her bag to her chest and tried to smile. Salvatore was nothing like Raffaele. Shorter, darker, he had a full beard and darting eyes that telegraphed suspicion.
‘Hi,’ she said, reaching out her shaking hand. ‘It’s lovely to meet you.’
Salvatore turned to Raffaele, ignoring her. ‘I need to talk to you. In private.’
Raffaele frowned, but his lips had curled into a smile.
‘I’m sorry, Coral. I’m sure you can get to know Salvatore later tonight. And perhaps we can finish our discussion? The car should be waiting. I’ll send something over for the party,’ he told her.
She started to walk away, but he tugged her back and planted a firm, demanding kiss on her lips. Then he smiled and closed the door.
CHAPTER FOUR
THE GUEST VILLAS sat on the other side of the cove, accessed by a narrow cliffside path to the front, and a single-track road which led to the rear of the old house. Coral closed the door of her villa and headed along the path. A chilly, damp wind wafted half-heartedly, but nothing could dampen the exhilaration and excitement she felt at heading to this party. And about the opportunities that lay ahead.
With every step the borrowed satin slingbacks pinched her toes, and she drew the wrap a little tighter across her bare shoulders, shutting out the cool night.
Raffaele really did know fashion. The dress he’d sent was perfect, with its deep crossover bodice, nipped-in waist and full, flared skirt. A fairy godmother couldn’t have done any better.
She looked up at the inky sky, searching for some sign of cosmic interference or a trail of fairy dust that would justify everything that was happening to her right now. Maybe it was the Greek gods’ handiwork as they grew bored with ambrosia and nectar and started fiddling about in the lives of humans. But there were only the fat bright stars of the southern European skyline, sparkling like the huge jewels on Kyla’s engagement ring, and the distant thud of bass, pounding as loudly as her heartbeat.
Only ten hours since she’d landed and so much had happened. The commission. The amazing lucky break with the supermodel motif for Kyla. But most of all simply convincing Raffaele. She’d never met anyone like him. So enigmatic, so alluring. But underneath as deep and mysterious as Aphrodite’s Pool.
There was no doubt the effect he had on people was incredible—and it couldn’t just be his billions. Salvatore was just as wealthy, but he had none of Raffaele’s magnetism. She’d watched Raffaele at the shoot earlier: women fawned over him, men stood a little taller. He was the man everyone wanted to impress, the subject on everyone’s lips. But the man nobody knew. Not really.
She’d searched online for more of his life story. It was simply documented. He was the orphaned son of the glamorous Lila Rossini, an actress on the cusp of superstardom, her life cut short by a helicopter crash. He had been adopted by the benevolent Giancarlo Di Visconti.
It sounded like a tragedy with a happy ending, but no one could really imagine what it was like to be in someone else’s shoes. She knew that better than anyone.
No one would look at her passionate, artistic mother and guess that mental illness had plagued her for years. Always she was waiting for the mysterious man she loved to return for her one day. He’d never come, but her episodes of depression continued.
Four months earlier Coral had thought things were improving. A gallery had sold nearly all of her mother’s last collection, and she was feeling happy about Coral graduating top of her class. But then—another breakdown. Lynda wouldn’t talk about it, but she knew it was something to do with Coral’s father. She’d buried herself away and refused to talk about him.
Even now all Coral knew was that he’d been her mother’s boss. And that sleeping with the boss was a very bad idea.
Sleeping with Raffa was a very bad idea.
But she didn’t have to worry about that now. She had her first feature in the bag and the chance of more tonight if she managed to charm the surly Salvatore.
They hadn’t clicked. She’d known it immediately. Funny that the only strange, unsettling feeling she’d had since landing on the island had been when she’d met him. He wasn’t at all what she’d expected—mean and miserable, nothing at all like Raffaele. But she had good chemistry with Kyla. And explosive chemistry with Raffaele…
