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better?
     
    He hardly needed to do that, Carly concluded.
     
    ‘Well?’ he pressed, a suspicious tug appearing at one corner of his mouth. ‘Are you coming inside?’
     
    Her exhalation of breath was noisily ragged as she considered this suggestion.
     
    ‘ Carly ?’ He dipped his head to look her in the eyes. She didn’t dare to breathe on him. But he wouldn’t wait for ever. Her options were obvious—she could turn tail and run, or she could brave it out.
     
    Walking in on Lorenzo’s arm felt good. People stared. At him, of course, she knew that, but still it proved, if proof were needed, that the only accessory a girl really needed was a bedworthy man.
     
     
     
    Standing beneath the brilliantly lit chandeliers, Carly felt her new-found confidence draining away. Everyone else looked so elegant, while she felt like an orange marker buoy set adrift in a sea of penguins.
     
    ‘Shall I take your shawl?’ Lorenzo suggested. ‘It will be quite safe with my coat in the cloakroom,’ he reassured when she hesitated.
     
    But would she be safe? Carly wondered as he twitched the yards of fabric away. She needed something substantial to cover the acres of chest on show.
     
    As Lorenzo strode away Carly noticed how the crowd parted for him. She would never be able to make the same sort of impact. In fact she noticed now that the space around her suggested people feared bad taste might be catching. She was so wrapped up in humiliation she gasped out loud when Lorenzo returned.
     
    ‘I didn’t mean to startle you.’
     
    But his eyes were sparkling. No doubt he was already anticipating the fun he was about to have at her expense.
     
    ‘Which table are you sitting at? Haven’t you checked?’ he added with a frown when she didn’t answer.
     
    Actually, no, she hadn’t checked. She had been frozen to the spot, too embarrassed to move and show herself and her terrible dress off in the sombre gathering. ‘No, I haven’t checked.’
     
    ‘There’s no need to raise your voice,’ Lorenzo pointed out smoothly. ‘Why don’t I take you now to find out where you’re sitting?’
     
    ‘Because I don’t need you to?’ It was just a shame for the sake of her defiance that her voice was trembling.
     
    ‘Clearly you do, Ms Tate,’ Lorenzo contradicted her with a raised brow.
     
    Staying hidden in the shadows held far more appeal than making herself the subject of gossip on Lorenzo’s arm as she walked across the crowded ballroom, but what option did she have when he had taken a firm hold of her?
     
    Just as Carly had anticipated, everyone turned to stare, but at her, this time—or, at least, at the orange meringue. ‘This is so kind of you, Lorenzo,’ she ground out through gritted teeth.
     
    ‘Don’t mention it,’ he murmured in a sardonic tone, bringing his head close to hers. ‘If I’d left you to your own devices I imagine they would have been passing the port by the time you found your table, and I don’t want you to miss your slot tonight. I’m so looking forward to it…’
     
    Shaking her arm free, she walked ahead. Lorenzo could suck all the rational thought out of your brain with a single look, and she had no intention of being distracted by him tonight, or mocked. But, having escaped his protection, Carly became aware that she was getting even more amused looks. And no wonder when she was the only woman showing her breasts, and they were big, bouncing breasts that refused to be hidden. Right now they felt like barrage balloons beneath her rigidly corseted top. And it didn’t help her confidence any to see Madeline du Pre sailing past in a sharp Armani suit!
     
    Reaching the table plan, she stared up. Grinding her teeth so hard they almost chipped, she forced herself to concentrate as a sound of disappointment rang out somewhere close to her left ear.
     
    ‘You’re not sitting with me.’
     
    Lorenzo’s comment sent a buzz of awareness spinning down her spine. ‘Are you