A Ring to Claim His Legacy Read online

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  Imogen blinked back the sharp stab of betrayal at the mention of a fiancé, but it wasn’t this man’s fault that Gavin had walked out on her. The handsome and very charming Marco had no way of knowing Gavin had turned his back on her, on everything, just one week before she should have walked down the aisle with him. Or that Gavin had only recently married another woman after claiming marriage wasn’t for him and that he’d only gone along with it because their families had pushed them into it.

  ‘No boyfriend and no fiancé,’ she said as lightly as she could, watching him expertly pour the champagne.

  The light shone in his dark hair and his tanned complexion hinted at a Mediterranean heritage. He looked up at her and his inky black eyes met hers and she blushed, caught out in the act of appraising him.

  He handed her a glass of champagne and she knew without doubt this was a man who moved in very different circles to the normal nine-to-five kind of life she led. Everything about him screamed wealth and power. He was completely out of her league. Imogen had no idea why she was doing this, why she’d gone along with Julie’s suggestion and allowed herself to get so carried away with the fantasy of the island they had unexpectedly been sent to as part of their job.

  She also had no idea why she, of all the women here tonight, was sitting at a romantic and very secluded table with the sexiest man in the bar. His tall, athletic body had stood out among all the other wealthy men in the restaurant as soon as she and Julie had arrived, but she’d kept her gaze averted. Men usually preferred Julie’s tall, slender figure to her short and far curvier one. Inwardly she berated herself. Gavin might have knocked her confidence, but she wasn’t going to allow him to send her back to the agony of bullying taunts from her schooldays.

  She took the glass he offered her and knew this whole set-up was Julie’s doing. It had been her idea to use their time on this luxurious island to escape their dreary lives. If their employer, Bespoke Luxury Travel, had seen fit to send them to Silviano Leisure Group’s tropical island to sample the kind of luxury holidays the company could offer their clients, Julie had insisted they were going to live like those wealthy clients and sample everything—to the full.

  Imogen just hadn’t expected a man like Marco to be part of that plan. He was so different from any man she’d met, so very focused on what he wanted, which right now she was in no doubt was her. Acting the flirty and vivacious blonde wasn’t her at all, but Julie’s suggestion that she needed a wild, passionate affair to finally move on from Gavin’s betrayal of last year had taken root in her mind. Imogen was once more happy and confident with her petite and curvy figure and wanted to prove as much to Julie.

  No wonder Julie had practically pushed her at Marco. He was just the kind of man she’d label as a playboy: wealthy, handsome and lethally charming. Imogen smiled secretively to herself. She’d play the game, take up the challenge Julie had thrown her. This week she was going to be a very different Imogen than usual and make the most of tonight. Even if it was only for a few hours, she would live for this moment, as if nothing or no one else mattered. This was her moment and what better person to share it with than a man like Marco?

  ‘I’m surprised a beautiful woman like you is alone tonight, but I will admit to being happy about it.’ Marco’s deep, sexy voice pulled her well and truly back from her thoughts.

  Just as it had the moment he’d come over to her, Imogen’s heart skipped a beat and a host of butterflies took flight in her tummy. Her head was light already and she’d barely drunk any champagne. Could she really be an emotionally detached seductress? Could she really be all a man like Marco wanted?

  ‘So am I.’ She tried to remember all that Julie had said to her on the flight out. All the advice about forgetting ‘that scum who left you virtually at the altar’ and living again. Julie had made her promise that the next time a man showed an interest in her she would forget the past and live only for the moment. No thoughts of the future and certainly no thoughts of the only other man she’d ever had a relationship with.

  She smiled at the memory of how insistent Julie had been. She wouldn’t be surprised if Julie was back in their luxury villa alone, just so she could force her to keep that promise and push her into Marco’s arms. She’d show Julie—and herself—that she had moved on.

  ‘You’re smiling,’ Marco said softly as he handed her a glass of potent bubbles.

  ‘What’s not to smile about? I’m in a beautiful place with very agreeable company.’ She tried to tease, tried to flirt a little, but it was so out of her comfort zone. As was the silk dress which clung to each curve she usually tried to play down. The long front slit showed off her legs with each step and she tried hard to own it, to wear it. It was a dress which showcased her in a very different light. It was a dress for just Imogen.

  ‘Very seductress,’ Julie had said as she’d put on the shimmering gown of blue which had been part of the wardrobe provided for them both for the week to enable them to test the luxury resort and blend in. It was also something she could only dream of wearing and she hated to imagine how much it had cost.

  ‘Only agreeable?’ he teased as he sipped his champagne, his gaze holding hers, sending tingles of excitement down her spine.

  She watched him drink, his handsome looks very Mediterranean, but his accent was unmistakably American. As he waited for her to answer, he lifted his dark brows suggestively, his eyes sparkling with sexy mischief.

  ‘Okay,’ she laughed. ‘But it might inflate your ego too much. I’m in a beautiful place with a handsome man for company.’

  ‘That’s much better,’ he laughed. ‘So, just Imogen, what is it you do in London?’

  Imogen nearly choked on the champagne as his question threw her off balance. Her thoughts raced as she scrabbled for something suitable to tell him. She was hardly going to tell a man like him, a man who emanated wealth from every pore of his sexy body, that she was merely an office worker living one monthly paycheque to the next. Why spoil the magic of the moment? Why not really live the dream and create a new life for herself?

  ‘I’m a personal assistant.’ She sipped her champagne then put the glass down, not wanting to drink too much too fast. ‘What about you?’

  ‘I’m in the leisure industry.’

  ‘In America?’

  He laughed. It was such a sexy laugh her stomach somersaulted and if she hadn’t been sitting down she was sure she would have to because her knees would have weakened as desire began to slip over her body in a way she’d never known possible.

  ‘That obvious?’

  ‘A little, but you have Mediterranean looks.’ What was she saying? She might as well have told him that she’d been studying him.

  ‘My family originates from Sicily. My grandfather emigrated to New York with my grandmother when they were newlyweds to start a new life.’ He smiled, and she guessed he must be or had been close to his grandparents. It seemed family was important to him, that he remembered his grandparents with the same fondness with which she remembered hers. Determined not to let her real life into this moment she pushed aside those thoughts and waited for him to continue. ‘They opened a coffee shop and lived there all their lives.’

  ‘That’s so romantic.’ The words slipped from her lips before she had time to think but judging by his expression it was not the way he would describe it. It also brought home that her first impression of him was right: this man was the type of man who didn’t settle down, didn’t commit to relationships, probably scorned romance and never used the word love.

  ‘Are you a romantic?’ His abrupt question backed up that thought.

  She laughed and leaned forward to pick up her glass, aware of his eyes on her and the fact that her dress left more of her uncovered than it covered. It would have fitted Julie much better, her being so slim, but she’d insisted it was perfect on Imogen. She’d refused to even try it, remindin
g Imogen that she’d promised not to let Gavin’s cruel taunts over her figure dent the confidence in her body she’d found after setting herself free from school-day bullying.

  ‘Isn’t everyone? A family story like that is kind of romantic.’ She sat back and sipped her champagne, determined to keep her voice light. ‘Do you not think it’s romantic?’

  ‘No.’ The word was so final she almost felt sorry for him, but then she remembered where her romantic notions had got her—ditched during the final wedding-dress fitting. Maybe this Italian New Yorker had the right idea, maybe he didn’t. Either way she was having fun teasing him. She hadn’t felt so carefree for a long time.

  ‘But look at this place. Romance is what it’s all about.’ She held her arms out and spread her palms upwards as she looked at the restaurant with candlelit tables for couples, the bar with its subdued lighting, the gardens they were now in, lit by lights which echoed the twinkling of the stars.

  ‘Okay, I relent,’ he laughed, melting her all over again.

  ‘You do?’ she teased further, laughing up at him as if she’d known him for years instead of barely hours.

  He nodded in grudging agreement. ‘Maybe this island is a little romantic.’

  She laughed softly, aware of his gaze intensely on her. ‘Now you are showing your Italian side.’

  He moved a little closer to her. ‘And do you like it?’ This game of flirting was getting dangerous, but for some reason she didn’t want it to stop. Maybe the champagne was making her bold.

  ‘I do. Much better than your hard-edged-businessman-of-New-York side.’

  ‘Ouch.’ He picked up his glass and raised it to her. ‘In that case I raise a toast to a romantic interlude on this island with a beautiful woman.’

  Nobody had ever said she was beautiful before. At school taunts about her weight had followed her through each year, and as she’d turned into a teenager her mother had referred to it as puppy fat, meaning well but destroying any shred of confidence she’d had. Whatever the reason for her being plump and curvy, she’d never been able to look like her skinny cousins. Fed up with feeling sorry for herself, she’d decided to embrace what she had and, with a renewed confidence in herself, her lifelong friendship with Gavin had blossomed into romance. He was her first boyfriend and had become everything to her as she’d fallen in love. Yet even though they had been a couple for two years and had become engaged, he’d never once told her she was beautiful. As hard as she’d tried not to allow that to knock her confidence, it had, especially once their engagement had ended.

  ‘To the romance of the moment,’ she added to their toast, watching with a smile as his brows rose. Then without breaking eye contact he sipped his champagne. She could almost feel his body telling her he wanted her, could almost hear the words whispered on the warm evening breeze.

  From the bar soft, seductive music drifted over to them, as if enticing them to make more of their moment. It was the perfect music for a slow dance with someone special. She listened and smiled sadly. She hadn’t danced with a man for so long. Gavin had stopped taking her anywhere they would have to dance, barely taking her out on proper dates in the last year of their relationship. It should have been all the warning she needed to realise that he was just going along with their families’ expectations, that he didn’t really care for her, let alone love her. But she’d been blinded by her dreams of a happy-ever-after. She would never allow herself to be that foolish again.

  ‘Would you care to dance?’ Marco stood up and put out his hand to her. She looked up at him, his face partially in shadow because of their secluded location.

  ‘But...’ She stammered for words as all sorts of thoughts rushed through her mind. What would it feel like to take his hand, to be held by him, to press herself against him? Heat surged through her, a warning if nothing else that she was far from indifferent to this man.

  ‘Shall we make the most of this romantic moment, this escape from reality?’ He spoke as he took her hand in his, pulling her gently to her feet, then waiting for her to come towards him.

  ‘How can I refuse?’

  She moved in his direction and he stepped back away from their table and then turned to her, pulling her close to him. His eyes were heavy with desire and a spark of hot need that she’d never known before ignited within her.

  ‘So,’ he said softly as he looked down at her. ‘Are you here to escape, Imogen?’

  ‘Aren’t you?’

  ‘In truth, yes, I am.’ He held her even closer, his arms around her waist and his palms on her lower back, scorching through the elegant dress.

  ‘Then we should escape together.’ The words slipped far too easily from her lips and it had very little to do with the champagne. It had everything to do with the man she was moving slowly in time with to the distant music. Each move she made heightened her awareness of his strong, muscular physique beneath the stylish tuxedo. This moment wasn’t romance. This moment was pure fiction. A dream she didn’t want to wake from.

  ‘My sentiments exactly.’

  She stopped dancing and looked up at him. She’d never felt so dainty and fragile in her life. He was well over six feet tall, but it wasn’t his height—it was the way he held her. The way he looked at her. He made her feel alive, sexy and desired. He made her feel beautiful.

  * * *

  Marco wasn’t at first aware they had stopped dancing. He was so consumed by Imogen he could barely think straight. Holding her in his arms felt right. In some bizarre way she fitted like no other woman had ever done. Inwardly he swore. Playing along with this damn romance stuff was getting to him. He should just kiss her and take her to bed. Get her out of his system.

  But he had all week. Time to savour this blonde beauty, time to be the kind of man he might have wanted to be if his mother hadn’t kept from him one very important fact about his father. He pushed that aside. This was his time to escape and he intended to do exactly that. He would follow Imogen’s example. One week out of his life, one week to be just Marco.

  Imogen looked up at him with big blue eyes, so wide and innocent. Each deep breath she took made her breasts rise and fall, begging to be touched. If he held her really close she’d be in no doubt how much he desired her right now, but something was holding him back. He had no idea why, but, despite the heated lust he’d first felt as he’d seen her in the bar, he didn’t want to kiss her—not yet anyway.

  As thoughts of restraint rushed through the desire-clouded fog of his mind, Imogen moved in his arms, bringing her so close that she must know the effect she was having on him. A deep, throaty growl escaped him as she lowered her head, averting her face from him. He wanted nothing more than to lift her chin, make her look into his eyes and then cover her full lips with his. She looked up at him, as if knowing what he wanted, what he needed. The fight for restraint raged and by some miracle he only allowed himself to brush his lips lightly over hers.

  It was enough. The touch tape of passion had been lit. Now it was only a question of how long the fuse would be before the inevitable explosion. Usually he craved instant gratification when he kissed a woman, not wanting to get caught up in the emotional warfare of anything remotely like courtship, but Imogen was different. This place was different. In a bid to escape his family, his reality, he was different.

  If he was his usual self, he knew that once he kissed a woman passionately she would be in his bed that night. But not this time. For the first time he wanted to savour the moment, enjoy the mounting anticipation of kissing her properly, of caressing her sexy body, of finally making love to her.

  He had one week here on the island, just as she did. What would it be like to make the moment last that long? What would it be like to romance her, court her—before the inevitable conclusion? Damn it. Imogen’s talk of romance must have got to him.

  ‘Are you busy tomorrow?’ His voice cracked into a hoarse whisper as he m
oved back from her, away from the temptation to plunder her mouth. Right now she looked so kissable, so very sexy, it was almost more than he could bear. He had no idea where his restraint was coming from or what was driving it, but right now it was just what he needed.

  ‘No.’ Her whisper was husky and told him so much, told him she wanted him as much as he wanted her, that she too was fighting the tug of war between passion and restraint.

  He smiled and brushed his lips lingeringly over hers. As desire erupted inside him like the roar of a lion he whispered against her lips, ‘I’d like our moment of escape to go on for a little longer than just tonight.’

  ‘I’d like that too.’ He knew she was smiling. Her eyes sparkled as she looked into his and just when he thought he couldn’t take it any more her eyes fluttered closed and her lips pressed against his. Soft and yielding, they tempted him, but he forced himself to return the light kiss, held on to his restraint as if his life depended on it as he avoided the kiss becoming demanding and hard. He wanted her in his bed, crying out as passion consumed them—but not tonight.

  This moment out of time, this dalliance with the kind of romantic ideas he’d always locked out of his life, had come at the perfect time. Everything else in his life was falling apart, threatening who he really was, and Imogen, a beautiful blonde, had slipped into his life. What better distraction than the woman who seemed as intent on escape as he was?

  ‘I will bid you goodnight.’ He pulled away from her, his body aching with unquenched desire. If he wanted this moment to last all week he had to walk away now. If he didn’t let her go he wouldn’t be truly escaping from everything he now knew he was.

  CHAPTER TWO

  IMOGEN HAD BEEN shocked by the way Marco had made her feel and even more astounded by the way she’d wanted to be kissed by him that first night. Now, after spending five blissful days in his company, escaping reality and living the dream of romance, what had shocked her more was that even though a sizzling chemistry surrounded them, he’d done nothing other than kiss her gently at the end of each day.