had subtly highlighted the grey-blue
of her eyes with eyeliner and a brush of smoky eyeshadow, and her lush lips
were shiny with pink-tinted lipgloss. It made him want to lean down and
press his lips to hers to see if she still tasted the same. He could smell her
perfume, her signature summery honeysuckle scent that had clung to his skin
for hours after making love with her. He had missed that fragrance. It never
smelled quite the same on anyone else. He stood to greet her, and even
though she was wearing shiny patent black killer heels he still towered over
her. ‗Did you bring your passport?‘ he asked. She gave him a churlish look
from beneath her lashes. ‗I almost didn‘t, but the thought of two million
reasons why I should made me see reason.‘ Emilio allowed himself a small
smile of satisfaction. She
was here under duress but at least she was here. He led her to a quiet corner
in the bar with a gentle hand at her elbow. He felt her bare skin shiver in
response to his touch and an arrow of need staked him in his groin. Her skin
was so soft and creamy, like silk against his fingers. ‗What would you like to
drink?‘ he asked. ‗Champagne?‘ She shook her head. ‗I‘m not celebrating
anything,‘ she said, shooting him another look. ‗White wine will do.‘ Emilio
ordered their drinks and, once they had been served, he leaned back in his
seat to study her icemaiden features. He knew he deserved her ire. He had
thrown her out of his life with a callous and ruthless disregard for her
feelings. He had been so convinced she had betrayed him. The red mist of
anger he had felt had blinded him to anything but what he believed she had
done. The image of her with that man taunted him and had done so until he
had found out about the discovery of her identical twin. Seeing her in the
flesh again had brought back all the reasons he had wanted to marry her in
the first place. It wasn‘t just her natural beauty or grace or poise. It wasn‘t
just her softly spoken voice and the way she nibbled at her bottom lip when
she was feeling uncertain, or the way she sometimes twirled a loose strand
of hair around one of her fingers when she was concentrating on something.
It was something in her eyes, those incredible were-theygrey-were-they-blue
eyes that had warmed and softened the first time she‘d looked at him. What
man didn‘t want the woman he had chosen to be his wife to look at him like
that? As far as he had been concerned, Gisele had been perfect wife material,
sweet and gentle, biddable and loving. The fact that he hadn‘t been in love
with her was irrelevant. For his whole life love had been an emotion he
had never been able to rely on. In his experience, people used the words so
freely but their actions rarely backed them up. The sex tape scandal had
reinforced to him how pointless it was to love someone, for people always
let you down. But in the end he had been the one to let her down. He had
destroyed her love with his lack of trust in her. But he was determined to get
her back. He would make it up to her in a thousand different ways. He
couldn‘t allow a failure like this to blot his life. It felt like a giant ink stain on his soul. He had made the error and it was up to him to do whatever it
took to fix it. And he would do whatever it took. He knew she still wanted
him. He had seen it that first day in her shop, the way her body spoke to him
in its own private language. His own intensely visceral response to her had
sideswiped him. He had thought he had put his desire for her behind him,
but it was back with a vengeance as soon as he had laid eyes on her. It was
an aching, pulsing need to feel her in his arms again. He couldn‘t wait to
take her upstairs and prove to her they still had a future, that the past could
be permanently put aside, erased as if it hadn‘t happened. She was playing
coy with him but he was sure once he kissed her she would melt,