His Poor Little Rich Girl Read Online Free PDF Page B

perfectly fine sitting out here,’ she said coldly.
    ‘Suit yourself,’ he said, brushing his wet hair back off his face with one of his hands.
    Rachel rolled her lips together, wishing she could tear her gaze away from the broad expanse of his chest, but her eyes were like two iron filings being lured by a powerful magnet. His pectoral muscles were so well defined. He must be lifting bulldozers in the gym, she thought. Unlike a lot of men of his generation he had resisted removing the masculine sprinkling of hair that went from a T shape across his chest to a narrow trail that disappeared beneath the black bathers he was wearing. She was glad the edge of the pool prevented her from looking any further. She had more than once felt the hard ridge of his maleness against her lower body when he had kissed her in the past. Her response to him back then had totally shocked her. It had shamed her that she had been so wanton with him, that in his arms she had turned into a ravenous tigress desperate for his kisses and his searing touch.
    He was not the type of man her father had wanted her to associate with. He was beneath her in every way imaginable, he was untouchable, he was forbidden fruit. But still she had been drawn to him time and time again, unable to stop herself from stealing clandestine moments with him. Her behaviour had been unpardonable. She had led Alessandro on shamelesslywhen all the time she had never had any intention of going against her father’s wishes.
    Rachel became aware of Alessandro’s gaze on hers and wondered if he was remembering those few stolen passionate kisses and that final showdown the night of her twenty-first birthday party when her engagement to Craig had been formally announced. It still made her heart jerk painfully when she recalled the look in Alessandro’s eyes that night. She had never seen such loathing, such contempt and anger. It had been red-hot. It had scorched her to the backbone. No wonder he still wanted to punish her.
    She swallowed the tense knot in her throat, hating that she was hot and sticky and perspiring while he looked so cool and composed. It was ironic that he was the one in deep water, but, although she was standing on the rock-steady sun-baked flagstones, she felt as if she were in over her head.
    ‘Lucia has left drinks on the table over there in the shade,’ Alessandro said. ‘Would you mind bringing me a cold beer?’
    Rachel glanced at the tray of drinks and then pursed her lips when she faced him again. ‘Why don’t you get it yourself?’ she said.
    ‘I am enjoying the water too much,’ he said.
    She folded her arms in a recalcitrant manner. ‘I am not your slave.’
    He gave her a slow smile that sent another shock wave between her thighs. It unsettled her so much she turned on her heel and stomped over to the drinks and poured herself an ice-cold wine. She sat down on the terrace furniture, crossing one leg over the other as she sipped from her glass. She had almost finished the wine and he still hadn’t moved from the side of the pool.
    She knew he was watching her. She felt the weight of hisgaze. She had always been aware of him watching her in the past. She had developed a sixth sense where he was concerned. She poured herself another wine and began sipping it, slower this time, aware that she was probably still a little low on fluids given how warm it was. The last thing she wanted to do was lose her head while in the presence of Alessandro Vallini.
    God, she was
so
hot. Why hadn’t she packed a bikini in her handbag? It would have taken no space. Why hadn’t she thought? Luggage went missing all the time. It was one of the drags of travelling. She should have been more prepared. She pushed some sticky strands of hair off her face and took another cautious sip of her wine.
    ‘Have you got sunscreen on?’ Alessandro said.
    ‘Have you?’ she threw back.
    ‘I always use protection.’
    Rachel felt that disturbing quiver again deep and