Chapter 2 02

02

Even then, she couldn't avert her gaze. There was something between them – that raw chemistry crackling through the air, seizing it with a tight tension. Anastasia could literally sense electric sparks flying across the room as green eyes watched her broodingly from the other side of the bar. He could feel her interest, she was sure of that, but it felt like he was debating with himself whether to act upon it or not.

He was the first one to look away, and Ana breathed a sigh of gratification when she was no longer captive of that intensely cogent gaze. It felt like somebody had lifted a huge burden from her shoulders.

It had been too lethal – her heart had pounded in her chest, erratic and out of control, unlike anything she'd ever come close to experiencing before. Hell, her heart was still jackhammering in her chest like she'd just run a marathon, her hands damp with sweat as she tried to pick up her glass with a casualness she was far from feeling.

Ana, what's wrong with you sweetheart? What kind of juvenile reaction was that, she berated herself mentally, taking a first hesitant sip of her Mojito. She was determinedly not even remotely interested in a fling or casual affair. That wasn't why she was in Milan.

Keep your eyes away, she prepped herself mentally.

« Potrei guardarti tutto il giorno, » someone rambled behind her in perfect Italian, making her jump as she connected to a pair of grey eyes, which belonged to a gorgeous male who seemed to be breathing down her neck. Her smile froze in place as another admirer was coming onto her. This time, she was irritated with those spineless idiots.

The man looked well-built; his broad square shoulders emphasized by the expensive suit he was wearing. He looked in his late twenties, his grey eyes twinkling with a besotted look, but weirdly enough, she was not in the least affected by him. In any other situation, she might have been flattered or even amused, but tonight, she simply couldn't summon any real interest. Still, it gave her a much-needed reprieve from the stranger and the erratic feelings he had evoked inside her.

« Non capisco, » she smiled awkwardly, from her very limited vocabulary. « No Italian, » she added desperately with a shrug of her shoulder.

The man seemed disappointed but pressed on by sitting next to her, his cologne overpowering her senses with every shift in his seat. He rattled off another string of Italian she barely understood, something about bella and incredibile, but Ana just nodded politely and kept her responses curt and disinterested.

Minutes dragged by painfully before the man finally got the message. With a sigh of defeat and a strained smile, he slid off the stool and disappeared into the growing crowd.

She could not help heaving a sigh of relief when she was left alone again.

Six! But who was counting?

That diversion had achieved one purpose though. It had dismissed the sexy enigmatic stranger from her mind-at least temporarily. It was a fluke, she dismissed carelessly-she knew herself well enough to acknowledge that crazy passion was not for her. She was logical, composed, careful. She had plans, a future to carve out. She hadn't flown to Italy to fall under the spell of a stranger's emerald eyes.

Still, she was unable to resist another surreptitious glance toward the stranger a second time, and she hitched in a breath.

The emotions his eyes were conveying fascinated her, like he was a child who'd just been gifted his favorite present – one he couldn't wait to unwrap. He didn't look eager though, just completely riveted in an intense eye-lock full of purpose which sent shivers down her spine.

She'd never been so consumed raw by a mere look; he did not even need a pick-up line to woo her.

Gulping down her nervousness, she broke the eye contact and feigned an interest in the opposite direction as avoidance tactics. She busied herself with her drink, stirring the mint leaves with the straw mindlessly, feeling the ice clink against the glass.

Focus, Ana, focus.

The conversations around her blurred into a meaningless hum. The rhythmic thud of bass from the speakers at the far end of the bar pulsed through her, matching the rapid beat of her heart.

She didn't know how much longer she could sit there, pretending not to notice the weight of his gaze burning into her. It was almost physical, an invisible tether pulling her attention back to him despite her best efforts.

Maybe it was the late hour. Maybe it was the exotic air of Milan whispering wild ideas into her mind. Maybe it was the Mojito dulling her usual sensibilities.

But Ana found herself sliding off the barstool, clutching her purse a little tighter. She needed a breath of fresh air, some distance to clear her muddled head.

Her heels clicked against the polished floor as she weaved her way through the crowd, her steps unsteady from the tension rather than the alcohol. She didn't look back. She couldn't.

Outside, the cool night air slapped her cheeks, grounding her instantly. The scent of fresh rain on cobblestones filled her nose as she leaned against the brick wall, exhaling deeply.

Get a grip.

She closed her eyes briefly, willing herself to forget about him. About the look in his eyes. About the way her body had betrayed her, every nerve ending attuned to a stranger she didn't even know.

She didn't hear the footsteps approaching until he was almost beside her.

« Sei scappata da me? »

Ana's eyes flew open, her heart stalling. The green-eyed stranger stood there, hands casually shoved into the pockets of his dark trousers, his lips quirked into a half-smile that didn't quite reach his intense eyes.

The lamplight caught in his hair, casting soft highlights against the messy waves.

« I don't speak Italian, » she said automatically, her voice much breathier than she intended.

He chuckled, the sound low and rich, sending a warm pulse through her veins.

« Then it's good I speak English, » he replied smoothly, his accent deliciously foreign but his words perfectly clear. « I asked if you were running away from me. »

Ana's cheeks heated. She pushed off the wall, trying for nonchalance.

« I needed some air, » she countered, her voice steady despite the roaring in her ears.

He stepped closer, not enough to invade her personal space, but enough that she could smell the subtle hints of sandalwood and something uniquely him.

« Fair enough, » he said, tilting his head slightly as he studied her. « But I hope you're not running too far. »

Ana opened her mouth to reply but found herself at a complete loss for words.

For the first time in her life, she, Anastasia Delacroix, who could hold her own in a boardroom full of billionaires, found herself tongue-tied by a man's mere presence.

She wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it all. Or maybe cry.

But instead, she did the only thing she could do-she smiled, small and hesitant.

The stranger's answering smile was slow, almost predatory, and it sent another shiver rippling down her spine.

There was a dangerous kind of promise in his gaze-one she wasn't sure she was ready for.

But one she was rapidly losing the will to resist.