He smiled arrogantly as if he was not expecting her to change her mind.

'I hope you don't mind, I took the liberty of ordering sea food. It's my favourite,' he smiled arrestingly. She nodded, too afraid to speak.

Alina glanced around the room nervously. Not for the first time she wondered why he chose to dine with her. He seemed to be enjoying his meal, tucking in with gusto. Nervous, her appetite escaped. The seafood smelt delicious. Alina was certain everything on the platter would taste delicious. She knew the opulent hotel's pricey restaurant made the most exquisite food. Alina found the silence eerie

'You have an unusual name---for an Italian, Signor Casiraghi.'

He looked up from forking his lobster as if annoyed at the disturbance of his sumptuous feast. 'My mother is Greek. Should I order you something else?' he changed the subject, looking at her barely touched plate.

'No Signor Casiraghi---.'

'Call me Tomas,' his voice was soft, compelling.

'So you live in London---Tomas?'

He smiled, put down his knife and fork and dabbed the napkin over his lips. She wondered if he would respond. He lifted his glass of red wine to his delectable lips. Alina looked away.

'I forget you English like conversation with your meals. We Italians like to have conversations with what's on our plate,' he laughed, a deep, throaty, sexy laugh.

Alina smiled. Not that his lean figure showed any evidence of that kind of indulgence. She was certain there was not an ounce of fat anywhere on his stunning body. His body--- what did it look like without his clothes on? Good heavens! What the hell was wrong with her? Alina speared a grilled calamari and fed it through her lips.

'I have an apartment in Rome, close to my work,' his voice was a welcome relief to her erotic thoughts; 'but my villa in Tuscany is where I like to relax when I'm home,' he drank from his glass again. I'm here on a short trip, before I head to Madrid.'

Where no doubt a Spanish beauty will be awaiting you between satin sheets.

Now why did that taste like a poison chalice? Not that she was harbouring any foolish notion that there was anything more to this evening being, just dinner. After all he did just say he was heading to Spain. Still she found him fascinating. If she kept a diary, this evening would certainly be the only highlight in the otherwise boring diary. For the simple truth was that she was boring. Her life was boring and she lived a boring life. Home—work--home—work--.

'So what do you do?'
'I beg your pardon?'
His deep accented voice surprised her depreciating thoughts.

'I found you in my office, making a ---mountain out of fruit.'
Alina laughed spontaneously. Tomas stared. He smiled when she stopped laughing.
'A pyramid,' she murmured, sipping on the delicious wine.
'Scusi?'
'I was making a pyramid display,' she rubbed her palm down her arm.
'Are you cold?' He stood up.
'No---,' Alina lied.

Tomas removed his jacket. He walked around to her chair and lifted her up. Alina avoided looking at him. He was too close. She could smell his expensive cologne; feel the burning heat of his body. 'You have goose bumps,' his fingers trailed down her arm.
'I---'
'Better?' his eyes fused with hers, he'd draped his jacket over her shoulder. She could feel his warmth still on the jacket.
'Th---thank you,' her tongue worried over her lower lip.
'You have the most beautiful eyes,' his accent was more pronounced, his voice husky.
'So do you,' she blurted.
Tomas laughed, 'you know that? You've hardly dared to look me in the eye. What colour are my eyes?'
'Brown---black,' she was still not looking.'
'Perhaps you need to make sure,' he challenged. When she did not, his index finger guided her chin upwards.
Charcoal!
'Are you afraid of me?' He drew nearer, his warm breath caressed her cheek.
'Y---yes.'
'Should I kiss you, cara?' His torturous fingers caressed her throat.
Cara---me? He wants to kiss me!
'No.' She closed her eyes. Her lips parted, her head moved a fraction towards him.
'I thought so.'
Alina heard him chuckle. Her eyes flew opened.
His lips brushed hers. His eyes were dancing ... dark with desire. Desire for her? How could this man who could have any top model or celebrity, look at her so lustfully?
'Your hair is like a velvet curtain,' his fingers glided through her hair, bringing her even closer to him.
Involuntarily her hands found his chest, to steady herself, of course. The simple touch sent a thrill of excitement rushing through her body. She stood there quivering. Her soft mouth trembled, her emerald eyes blazed with lust, lust she never knew she was capable of feeling. His mouth brushed over hers once again and again, increasing the pressure until a low moan escaped her throat and her lips surrendered like he knew they would. Heat raged through her veins like a forest fire. His mouth plundered hers.
She tasted sweet, of the wine she had just sipped. Her tongue was like honey, locking with his. His fingers closed over her breast. The jacket fell off her shoulders. Her fingers brushed his silky jet black hair. She felt his arousal, bruising against her pelvis. His kiss became more aggressive. Her arms circled his neck.

'Tell me to stop,' his voice was hoarse with desire. He was deliciously ravishing her. How dare he want to stop?
'No---,' she craved his touch, his possession. An unfamiliar need pulsed hot and heavy between her legs.
Why should he stop? Why should she not have this night with him? They would in all probability never see each other ever again, but nobody had ever kissed her like Tomas Casiraghi before. No man held her previously, like she was the only woman in the world, not that she had much experience in that department. How many plain Janes could brag about being in the arms of a gorgeous exotic hunk like Tomas Casiraghi, and he wanted her. There was no question about it.

Tomas placed an arm beneath her knees and strode with her to his bedroom. He barely lowered her onto the bed, when he was pulling her borrowed red number over her head. She didn't know where the boldness came from, but she was hastily unbuttoning his shirt. Her nails raked over his muscular chest. Tomas groaned. Hurriedly his trousers were discarded and so were the black silk boxers. He was naked and stood over her like a Greek God.

'Stop staring,' he smiled confidently. Clearly he was used to women ogling his prized manhood.
'You are beautiful,' Alina whispered, reaching out for him. He laughed arrogantly.
'No you are bella,' his demanding kiss tore the breath from her throat. His hands moved to cup her breast. She gasped as he captured the peak between his lips. Shakily, her explorative fingers touched his tapered waist, wanting to pleasure him, as he was doing to her, Gaining confidence, her fingers smoothed over his tight butt.
'Dio Santo,' he reverted to a litany of endearing words in his native mother tongue. She understood a few phrases of that beautiful language, but most of his mutterings were lost on her. All she knew, they were arousing her, just as his lips and fingers were doing all over her body.
He nuzzled the sensitive pulse beneath her ear. He sensed the almost inaudible groan escape her throat. Alina pulled his face back to her lips. He smiled triumphantly. She was beautiful, hot and sexy without her bedraggled clumsy attire. Who knew they hid such admirable symmetry? His experienced eye had been right about her sexy legs as well, they were shapely and long almost going up to her armpits. Why the hell did she hide her beautiful body under those ugly ghastly clothes?

Sensing her readiness and heightened arousal, Tomas ripped open a condom pack, sheathed himself and immersed himself inside her. Her quickened gasp and sudden stillness paralysed him in mid thrust. He looked up, confused.
'Your first time?' He accused.
Embarrassed, Alina looked away. She struggled for some semblance of protection from his invasive eyes.
'Why didn't you warn me cara?' His voice was laced with regret.
She squirmed, if that was possible lying down on his bed. 'I thought you'd stop---and I didn't want you to.'
He drew her closer. 'I'm sorry,' he murmured apologetically. 'It should not be like that, the first time.' He was still inside her. She felt him stiffening again. It only burned...just a little.
'I will be gentle si.'
Alina smiled, pleased he was not disappointed or put off. His mouth captured hers in a tender kiss. It was enough to send her over the top, right to the point where she was, before he had plunged into her.

This time as he had promised, he was gentle. Waiting until he heard her scream of ecstasy before he let himself go. He was shocked when after a few minutes she promptly fell asleep. Tomas lay on his back and stared at the ceiling. She had proved to be rather a pleasant surprise, more than just pleasant. It was the best sex he'd ever had. A guilty conscience pricked him. He should have stopped, she was unskilled, yet he could not. He'd had to have her. Generally he prided himself on his iron self control, yet tonight, it had failed him.

Alina stretched feeling the unaccustomed pull of never before used muscles, combined with that delicious aching sensation deep inside her, silently appraising Tomas' delightful sexual skills. When she turned her head, her eyes widened at finding him gazing admiringly into her face. Alina lifted the sheets up self consciously.
Tomas laughed. 'Is that necessary cara?'
She blushed and tried to move away.
'Did I hurt you?' His eyes were compassionate.
She had felt a sharp stab, only momentarily, but she did not want to admit it to him. 'Not much,' she smiled shyly.

'Shall I order us something to eat? You barely touched your dinner?'
'No thank you,' she tried again to shift away.
'I must go,' she laughed softly as his arm tightened around her waist. He was not ready yet to let her go. 'I must prepare my final dishes for you to sample, but I will let your taste buds be the judge,' she smiled brightly.

'Scusi?' His eyes darkened dangerously.
Alina swallowed, seeing his mood change drastically. 'The contract---Rose Acre is tendering for,' she swallowed --- 'I am the head chef.'
'What!' He ripped the sheets off and stood up, oblivious to his naked state, his desire gone. Alina shut her eyes. She did not trust herself not to look.
'You threw your virginity at me, expecting to gain a business contract with it!'
'No---,' she denied.
Alina hurried out of the bed. She pulled at the sheet and covered herself with it. It was better to try and defend herself standing up. This was all going pear shaped. It was not how she envisioned her first time would be.
'Tomas---that was not my intention.'
'No?' He spat disbelievingly. 'I should have guessed when you greedily grabbed the money I threw at you for typing the letter. You probably could not believe your luck, I guess.' He again reverted to his mother tongue. This time Alina was under no illusion that the expletives were not complimentary at all.
'Tomas---I'm sorry. It is not what you think---.'
'Get out!'
'What!' her eyes widened fearfully.
'I said get out!' he yelled. 'I do not issue business contracts in exchange for sexual favours. Go tell your boss that, you whore!'
Alina choked on her breath. She bent down, hastily slipped her dress back on and scurried out of Tomas Casiraghi's penthouse suite.

Oh dear God---I am so fired!
        -end chapter two-