Darci brooded. Well, of course she had thought Luc was returning to America soon. Why wouldn’t she?
Luc didn’t live in London. He had no home here as far as she was aware—had only come to London for the English premiere of Grant’s film, Turning Point. So, yes, of course she had assumed Luc would be returning to his life in Los Angeles in the next few days.
It had been that knowledge, she now realised, the thought that he wouldn’t have time to see her again, that had helped her get through this evening.
Luc’s suggestion that they meet for lunch on her next day off seemed to indicate he felt no immediate urgency to return home at the moment.
‘When is your free day, Darci?’ he persisted firmly.
‘Tuesday,’ she answered absently. ‘But—’
‘Then we will have lunch on Tuesday, yes?’
‘Why not?’ Once again he quirked that expressive brow.
‘Because—Luc, I don’t like playing games!’ she told him agitatedly. ‘We’ve had dinner, as you suggested, now let’s just—just stay away from each other, hmm?’
‘But we have not, as I also suggested, had our conversation concerning the puzzle of your behaviour towards me since we met on Thursday evening,’ he reminded her.
Her deliberate coolness, he meant. Her rudeness, and the fact that she had deliberately not turned up for their dinner date yesterday evening, either, after demanding he take her somewhere sinfully expensive….
It was a conversation Darci would rather they continued to avoid.
‘Unless you would care to have that conversation now?’ Luc challenged her, as he seemed to read some of her thoughts.
And damn her, she mentally berated herself. She should have taken Kerry’s advice and just stayed out of this. Now, instead, she found that Luc Gambrelli had invaded her life and was refusing to leave!
She gave a shake of her head. ‘I really can’t see the point in prolonging this—this acquaintance,’ she told him directly.
‘No?’ Luc said, and he took a step closer to her, reaching up, as he had longed to do all evening, and removing the clip from her hair, freeing the fiery tresses to shimmer like living flame about her shoulders and down her spine. His breath caught in his throat as Darci instantly looked wild and wanton.
Exactly how Luc wanted her!
He slowly lowered his head towards hers, hearing her breath catch in her throat a mere second before his lips gently claimed hers. He drew her lower lip into his mouth, his eyes open and locked with hers as he nibbled sensuously before running his tongue along that inner sensitivity. He was rewarded by Darci’s groan of capitulation as her mouth opened to allow him to deepen the kiss, her eyes closing as her arms moved up about his shoulders and her fingers became entangled in the hair at his nape.
She felt so good, tasted so good, that Luc didn’t want to stop there. He wanted to pick her up and carry her to her bed, to kiss and caress every velvety inch of her before burying himself deep inside her, stroking her wetness, gliding in and out of her, until he pumped his seed into her and joined her in an earth-shattering climax.
Instead he raised his head reluctantly, and his hands moved to grasp the tops of her arms. He held her away from him, knowing by her slightly unfocused green eyes, the flush to her cheeks, that Darci was as aroused as he was—that she wanted him to do all those things, too.
But Luc knew that anticipation would bring a much greater reward for both of them. He was determined that when he and Darci made love, she wouldn’t be able to accuse him of seducing her, that she would come to his bed of her own free will.
‘That is the point of prolonging this acquaintance,’ he explained. ‘I will call for you here at one o’clock on Tuesday,’ he instructed, then he released her to move determinedly away from her and stride through to the sitting-room.
It took Darci a few seconds to regain her scattered wits before she quickly followed him. ‘Luc—’
‘Not another word, Darci.’ He put silencing fingertips across her lips. ‘We have managed to get through this evening without…serious disagreements. Let’s leave it that way, hmm?’ he added teasingly.