Free Interview with a Playboy by Kathryn Ross Page A

impossible!
    There was also more to him than she had first realised. He’d obviously been through some tough times in his youth, and he was a bit more…
human
than she’d thought he would be. He had quite a good sense of humour, and—
    Suddenly Isobel caught herself. What on earth was she thinking? Even if he’d had a harsh upbringing in Italy, he was still the same ruthless man who had practically stolen her grandfather’s firm. Not to mention the fact that he was a womaniser—all good reasons for not being drawn in by that playful gleam in the darkness of his eyes.
    On impulse she got up from the table and walked to the edge of the terrace. She could see the pool from here, and the shimmering turquoise water looked cool and inviting in the tropical heat.
    She listened to Marco’s smooth flow of Italian and wondered what he was saying. She needed to find out more about his ruthless side, she reminded herself—needed to keep her senses firmly grounded.
    ‘You were right about one thing, Izzy,’ he observed suddenly, and she turned around to see that he had finished his call and was getting up from the table.
    ‘And what is that?’
    ‘Your conversational French needs work.’ He smiled at her.
    ‘Thanks for that. I knew you were amused!’
    ‘No, actually I was impressed that you made an attempt. And amused by the fact that you sounded quite cute as you did so.’
    ‘Thanks,’ she murmured with embarrassment. ‘What you really mean is that I sounded silly.’
    ‘No, that’s not what I meant at all. Don’t be so hard on yourself.’ He strolled back towards her, and something about the way he was watching her with such intensity made her emotions spin.
    ‘Anyway, we should get back to where we were before we got interrupted by your phone call,’ she continued swiftly, her mind racing to try and get back into the safety of work mode. ‘You were telling me about your childhood.’
    ‘Was I?’ He shrugged. ‘I think we should move on from that. Maybe you should tell me a little more about yourself.’
    ‘Is this another of your let’s-make-the-journalist-jump through-hoops moments?’ she asked.
    ‘No, it’s more of a let’s relax moment.’ He came to a halt beside her. ‘It is ten o’clock, Izzy—don’t you ever switch off from work?’
    ‘Says the guy who has just taken a business phone call,’ she retorted swiftly.
    He laughed. ‘You’re right. Maybe we are both guilty of burying ourselves in work.’ His gaze suddenly turned serious.‘My excuse is that I have a lot of people depending on me to get things done, a lot of jobs riding on my decisions. What’s your excuse?’
    ‘I don’t need an excuse. And I don’t know why you keep asking me these questions.’
    ‘Because I’m interested. In fact I’d say I’m as curious about you as you are about me.’
    For a few dangerous seconds she could feel his eyes moving over her face and down to the graze along her collarbone.
    She remembered how he’d made her feel when he’d reached to unfasten that one little button at the top of her blouse earlier, and as their eyes connected again she could feel the same heat swirling almost violently inside her. Hastily she took a step away from him.
    ‘Izzy, why are you so frightened of letting your guard down?’
    The husky way he asked that question made her heart start to thud nervously. ‘I’m not frightened of anything!’ He was too damn alert; like a heat-seeking missile he seemed to be able to zone in on her vulnerability…on the fact that she found him far too attractive. Desperately she tried to remind herself that she shouldn’t be thinking like this… ‘And as for your being worried about people’s jobs! Frankly, I find that hard to believe.’
    He smiled. ‘You could win an award for that defence system of yours, do you know that?’
    ‘I don’t know what you are talking about!’ She would have backed further away from him, but there was nowhere to go. She was penned in