One Christmas Night In...: A Night in the Palace / A Christmas Night to Remember / Texas Tycoon's Christmas Fiancée

‘Really?’ she asked sceptically.

‘Yes, really,’ Dmitri drawled. ‘I cooked for myself for the three years I attended Oxford University.’

Her eyes widened. ‘You went to university in England?’

He quirked one dark and mocking brow. ‘You sound surprised?’

Lily was surprised. She had assumed—obviously wrongly—that his archaic attitude was partly due to his having spent all his life growing up in Italy. But if Dmitri had spent three years in England then he had no excuse for not realising that things were generally done differently there. That there weren’t usually arranged marriages for business purposes, for one thing. That kidnapping unsuspecting females and incarcerating them in palaces was equally frowned on, for another!

But learning that he had spent three years at university in England certainly explained why he spoke such good English. Even if Lily didn’t like anything he had to say!

She looked at him coldly. ‘I’m still waiting for you to leave, Count Scarletti.’

So that she could take a bath and a nap, Dmitri recalled—and was instantly assailed with imaginings of how Lily would look as she lazed in the depths of a perfumed bubble bath, the heavy curtain of that silver-blond hair no doubt secured on top of her head, and revealing the long, slender column of her bared throat and silky shoulders, the firmness of her breasts swelling tantalisingly above the bubbles—

‘Oh, for goodness’ sake!’ Lily lost all patience with Dmitri’s delay in leaving, knowing that if he didn’t leave soon—very soon!—she was going to humiliate herself completely by bursting into tears in front of him. And she didn’t intend giving him that satisfaction. ‘Just close the door behind you on your way out!’ She hurriedly crossed the room to step into that decadently opulent bathroom, before slamming and then locking the door securely behind her.

Only to lean weakly back against it as the tears began to fall hotly down her cheeks …

CHAPTER FIVE

‘COULD I have my mobile phone back now?’

Dmitri raised dark brows as he turned from attending to a pan on the cooker hob and saw Lily standing in the kitchen doorway, obviously now completely refreshed after her journey. Her eyes were a clear bright blue, she’d slicked a pale lip gloss on those pouting lips and her beautiful, silky platinum-coloured hair fell straight and heavy over her shoulders and down the slenderness of her back. She was wearing a thin black sweater with tailored black trousers that fitted the smooth curves of her hips and bottom as though they’d been specially made for her.

Lily’s cheeks became slightly flushed under the hooded intensity of Dmitri’s gaze. ‘I believe you took my mobile with you when you left my bedroom earlier, and I’d now like it back,’ she repeated.

He gave a lazily unconcerned smile as he reached into the breast pocket of his casual white shirt and pulled out the slender black-and-chrome mobile before handing it to her. ‘Don’t worry, you haven’t missed any calls or text messages.’

‘I wasn’t worried.’ Lily dropped the phone back inside her shoulder bag.

‘No?’

‘No!’ she reiterated, not knowing whether that was the truth or not. She was worried about Felix, obviously, and longed to speak to him—either on the phone or in person—but at the same time she didn’t relish the thought of Dmitri being able to intercede in such a call.

She had enjoyed soaking herself in a scented bath for an hour or so earlier, finally relaxing as she’d got out to wrap a towel about herself before wandering barefoot through to the bedroom. Which was when she had realised that she couldn’t find her mobile phone amongst the other things that had fallen out of her bag earlier onto the bed. A search amongst the slightly ruffled bedclothes, and then under the bed itself, had shown it wasn’t there. Leading Lily to only one conclusion: Dmitri had to have taken the mobile with him when he’d left the bedroom!

The fact that he had just calmly handed it back to her, without so much as an apology for taking it in the first place, didn’t improve her temper in the slightest. Which was probably as well, now that she once again found herself alone in the disturbing Dmitri Scarletti’s company …

The kitchen wasn’t at all what Lily had been expecting when she had followed the aroma of cooking food. It was far less opulent and more homely than the rest of the palazzo, with dried herbs hanging from the thick wooden beams in the ceiling amongst an array of copper pots and pans, and mellowed oak cabinets scarred with age. The large table and chairs standing on worn flagstones in the middle of the room looked equally as well-used.

But most disturbing of all was the man in front of her. Dmitri appeared completely relaxed as he stood in front of the old-fashioned range, stirring the reason for those delicious smells, with an open bottle of red wine on the worktop beside him, along with a half-full glass of the ruby liquid, showing that he had been enjoying taking sips of wine as he cooked.

He was dressed far less formally now, in a loose white shirt unbuttoned at the throat and with the sleeves turned up almost to his elbows, and a pair of faded jeans that fitted low on his lean waist and clung lovingly to his muscled thighs. The darkness of his hair was still damp from the shower he had obviously taken. He somehow looked younger, even sexier, and far less intimidating than he had earlier.

Damn it!

Lily had spent the past half an hour, as she’d dried her hair and then dressed, building herself up to a quiet fury—but one look at this relaxed, smiling Dmitri and she was once again aware of everything about him. The way his hair fell silkily onto his brow. The fact that there was no longer any shadow darkening that square and determined chin—evidence that he must have shaved. The unbuttoned shirt allowed her to see the start of the dark curling hair that no doubt covered most of his chest before dipping down below the waistband of his—

‘Would you care for some red wine?’

Lily gave a startled blink as she realised she had been staring so intently at the utterly gorgeous man in front of her that she had completely forgotten he was probably using that time to stare right back at her—thereby allowing him to see how her cheeks had become flushed, her lips moist and slightly parted, even as her gaze hungrily devoured everything about him.

Double damn it!

This man held the key to her gilded cage, and as such was not a man she should be drooling over, she told herself firmly.

Lily closed her eyes briefly before opening them again. ‘Thank you,’ she accepted huskily as she stepped farther into the kitchen. ‘The food smells good,’ she excused herself uncomfortably when her stomach gave an audible growl as a reminder that she hadn’t eaten anything since those snacks on the plane.

‘Let’s hope that it tastes good too.’ Dmitri took a second glass from the cupboard and poured some wine from the open bottle, handing it to her before topping up his own glass.

Lily took a welcome sip of the red wine, not in the least surprised at its delicious smoothness. She doubted a man as rich as Dmitri was reputed to be would ever have anything but the best wines in his cellar, and the finer the wine the smoother on the palate.

‘Am I allowed to ask whereabouts in Rome we are?’ Lily frowned, having become totally disorientated earlier, during her drive through the city.

‘Of course.’ He nodded, leaning back against one of the kitchen units, heavy lids lowered over piercing green eyes as he slowly sipped his own wine.

‘Well?’ she prompted impatiently, when he added nothing further.

He shrugged broad shoulders. ‘You have not asked yet.’

Lily drew in an impatient breath. ‘I’m asking now,’ she grated between gritted teeth.

‘We are in the area of Parioli. It’s—’

‘I know where it is.’ She also knew what it was—the most prestigious and exclusive residential area in Rome! But then, where else would he live?

Lily had bought several books on Rome once her ticket was booked, and had enjoyed poring over all the different areas and historical attractions of Rome in order to decide which places she wanted to visit while she was there. The area containing most of the homes of the wealthy and privileged inhabitants of Rome hadn’t been one of them.

Dmitri eyed her from beneath dark lashes. ‘You don’t sound as if you approve.’

‘It’s not for me to approve or disapprove. It is what it is.’ She gave a dismissive lift of her shoulders and avoided meeting his perceptive gaze. ‘What are we having for dinner?’ she asked as she looked down into the simmering cooking pots rather than at him.

‘Spaghetti alla carbonara. It’s—’

‘I know what it is, Dmitri. We’re quite cosmopolitan in England nowadays, you know,’ she added snippily. ‘We even eat with knives and forks on special days and holidays!’

Dmitri had been hoping that they might be able to spend a relaxing evening together—maybe enjoy some light conversation as they ate the meal he had cooked, and in the process dispel some of her antagonism towards him. Yet, after only a few minutes spent in her company, he knew she was spoiling for another fight rather than relaxed conversation!

Admittedly he should not have taken her mobile phone earlier, without first telling her what he was doing. Except by the time he had seen it lying on the bed, amongst her purse, a lipstick and a couple of paperback books, she had already locked herself in the bathroom, with the sound of running bathwater precluding any further conversation.

He sighed his impatience with her continued hostility. ‘I remember eating in some very acceptable Italian restaurants during the years I lived in England.’

‘I trust you passed that on to the proprietors? What a coup—to have a personal recommendation from Count Dmitri Scarletti!’

Yes, Dmitri acknowledged wearily, this promised to be a very long evening indeed. ‘I was not Count Scarletti at the time, Lily,’ he informed her quietly. ‘My father did not die until the summer after I had left Oxford.’

Well, that had completely knocked the wind from her sails, she acknowledged a little guiltily, as she saw the pain he still felt at his father’s death reflected in the grimness of his expression.