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As the ly aware of him—of his sheer physical presence, the way his hands lass, or curved around the handle of his knife The way his sable hair feathered very slightly over his forehead, the way the strong column of his throat lish or Greek, that low, resonant tis she would prefer not to happen Such as raising her heart rate slightly, andher sto conversation, went to his face

She watched covertly as he lifted his hand in the briefest gesture, to summon the maître d’ He came at once, instantly, and was im little frisson down her spine, that there was another reason other than his dark, planed looks that made him attractive

It was the air of power that radiated from him Not obvious, not ostentatious, not deliberate, but just—there

This was a ot what he wanted, and there would never, in his htest reason to think otherwise

She gave an inward shiver It wasn’t right, her rationalpower adding to hisfor a host of reasons, ethical and moral

But it was so, all the same

And she resented it Resented the man who made her think that way Respond to him that way

No! This was ridiculous She was getting all worked up over sos, completely irrelevant to her He had invited her uncle for lunch, presuular mix of business and sociality that those in these wealthy circles practised as a matter of course, and she had been included in the invitation for no other reason than common courtesy

She forced herself to relax Her uncle was turning to her, saying so, and she made herself pay attention with a smile

‘You are fond of Mozart, are you not, pethi mou?’

She blinked Where had that question come from? Nevertheless, she answered with a smile, ‘Yes—why do you ask?’

But it was their host who answered

‘The Philharht they are giving a Mozart concert Perhaps you would like to attend?’

Vicky’s eyes went to her uncle He was so? If he did, she would be happy— her off, she knew, and as she did indeed like Mozart’s o to a concert

‘That sounds lovely,’ she answered politely