Back In The Italian's Bed (4 page)

BOOK: Back In The Italian's Bed
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How she’d missed this – the pleasure he gave her so readily, so easily. More, she’d missed
him
, the man who, even now, consumed her thoughts, her very soul.

Dimly she registered other things, the slap of his leather belt against her thigh as he wrenched at his trousers, the tearing of a condom wrapper. She shuffled closer to the edge of the vanity unit, needy for him. So needy her skin felt too tight for her body.

‘Yes,’ he groaned approvingly. ‘Like that.’

Large hands clamped her thighs and hauled her right to the edge of the counter, then tunnelled up under her skirt, pushing it higher and higher.

‘You still wear stockings.’

Was that relief in his voice as he palmed her bare upper thighs? She couldn’t tell over the rocketing pound of her pulse, but the gleam in his eyes was pure masculine appreciation.

At least that was something he’d never stinted to give her. Maybe that’s why she’d made the fatal error of falling in love with him. Fabrizio was charming, effortlessly charismatic and passionate. Yet he had never returned her love.

Desperate heat glazed her eyes and she blinked.

He looked up, frowning. An instant later his hand was cradling her cheek as he took her mouth in a lush, open-mouthed kiss that was tender and sexy and pure bliss.

Jenna’s heart tore wide open, the tightness in her chest easing as light and heat filled her. She cupped his face, tilting her head and allowing all her confused emotions to surface as she gave him kiss for kiss.

She hadn’t felt whole since she’d left him. But this, now, felt so right.

His hands were still on her face as he pulled back, his breath a soft brush of air on her cheeks, the tangy scent of his skin so familiar and enticing.

For a moment she was sure he was about to speak. Then his lips firmed and she felt movement between her thighs. Her silk panties were dragged aside and in one long, easy movement Fabrizio filled her, pulling her to him so hard it felt as if he reached the very heart of her. Or maybe that was because of the way his silvery gaze held her, refusing to let her go.

How had she forgotten this exquisite perfection? This feeling that the world had stopped spinning and nothing existed but the pair of them, as near to one being as it was possible for a couple to be.

Jenna tried to fill her lungs but her chest was too tight to expand properly. She felt light-headed, drowning in the glow of wellbeing that encompassed her when Fabrizio held her like this, looked at her like this.

For a moment she could almost convince herself this was more than sex, that he felt—

She shut her eyes, blocking out that gleaming gaze, knowing she should be done with that fantasy. But he didn’t let her withdraw. His lips tasted hers, softly, temptingly, as his fingertips brushed whorls of pleasure from the tips of her breasts to her ribs.

The sweet magic of it made her moan, her eyes flickering open.

Instantly she was snared by his expression, a frown of concentration vying with the triumph in his smile and a look she wanted to think was tenderness in his eyes.

When he moved, taking up a primitive, urgent rhythm that matched the frantic pulse of her blood, she couldn’t look away. Even when the ripples of excitement became a tsunami of pleasure, rolling in waves, shaking them like flotsam on a stormy sea, they rode the maelstrom together till on one impossibly high crest of pleasure they both shattered and sank.

 

CHAPTER FIVE

 

THROUGH SLITTED EYES, Jenna watched the dawn light steal into the room. Beyond the balcony the sea was a fathomless grey. Rather like the thoughts swirling in her head.

Her pulse hammered a too-fast tattoo as her sated body gradually slumped back to earth. The rapture of Fabrizio’s lovemaking still wrapped around her, luxurious and decadently sensual. Yet as the bliss faded, bleak thoughts beat at her consciousness.

‘What are you thinking?’ The low rumble of Fabrizio’s voice came from beneath her ear as she lay, abandoned, across his chest. Hot, satiny skin and the tickle of chest hair teased her.

She’d tried so often to resist the temptation of him yet her body, or perhaps it was her heart, continually undermined her resolve. Each time she wondered if this was the last time they’d be together and had been unable to turn away.

She should turn her back on him if she wanted to keep her sanity. He’d come close to destroying her once already.

Did it make it better or worse that she knew he’d never reciprocate her feelings? For him this was only skin-deep.

‘Jenna?’ That clipped word sounded sharp.

‘I’m thinking it’s time I got up and went to my own quarters.’

One night had turned into three as Fabrizio extended his stay at the villa and Jenna, horrifyingly weak-willed, had spent every one in his suite.

‘Why is it so important no-one finds out we’ve spent the night together?’ His tone turned belligerent and she almost smiled in gratitude. An angry Fabrizio was far easier to resist than one intent on seduction.

She opened her mouth to answer him then stopped. He didn’t need to hear about her increasingly desperate need to assert some independence from him and all he made her feel. Let him think this was all about keeping their liaison secret from her colleagues.

‘This is my workplace, Fabrizio. These are my colleagues.’ Though not for long once he took possession and she moved on to another post in the De Laurentis hotel empire. ‘I prefer to keep my personal and business lives separate.’

‘You’re too sensitive,’ he growled, which was his way of saying her work didn’t matter.

She levered herself up off his torso and made to slide away when long arms hauled her back. With a puff of exhaled air, she landed on top of him.

‘No need to rush away. You’ve still got time.’ His hand stroked possessively up and down her spine and she wondered if it was because she’d left him, and now managed to keep a sliver of independence from his wishes, that he wanted her so much.

Before, she’d been expendable.

As if sensing her sudden tension, he planted a gentle kiss on her forehead, then another, and something about the gesture loosened the knot in her belly. Fiercely she reminded herself it wasn’t real tenderness, but that didn’t stop her foolish heart racing.

‘You still haven’t told me why you walked out on me.’ His dark velvet voice brushed tantalisingly across her flesh.

For three nights they’d avoided discussing the past, living only the present. Jenna was torn, knowing and hating the weakness that had kept her silent. She’d deliberately refused to contemplate all the problems between them just so she could spin out a little longer her time with him.

‘You haven’t told me why you checked out the taxis and hire cars, looking for me.’ Hospitals she could understand – if he’d genuinely been worried for her wellbeing, but why the taxis?

He sighed and slid his hand to her bare thigh, circling one fingertip till she squirmed and snuggled closer.

‘The airlines too.’

Shocked, she stilled. He’d checked the
flights
as well? ‘Are they allowed to give out personal information about passengers?’

She felt his shoulders rise in a typical shrug. ‘Where there’s a will…’

Especially when the person enquiring was one of Italy’s wealthiest men. Fabrizio wouldn’t have baulked at using his influence to get the information he wanted. The reminder of his phenomenal power made her skin chill and prickle even though she lay against his hot body.

‘You tried to make sure I’d left Italy?’

Jenna pushed herself up onto her arms so she could look down at him. She recognised that closed expression. Fabrizio was shutting her out. Why? What did he have to hide?

‘What else did you do, Fabrizio?’

When he met her eyes, she saw a flash of anger and was shocked by its intensity. She shouldn’t be. For days he’d repressed the fury she’d seen at that boardroom meeting. Fabrizio had fixed her with a stare that should have incinerated her where she sat. Yet he’d never delivered on the searing threat in his eyes. Here at Villa Bellini he’d kept his temper in check.

Jenna met his glare and refused to back down. How could he hurt her any more than he had already?

‘What else, Fabrizio?’ She wasn’t going to let this go.

‘I had enquiries made in your home town. To see if you’d returned.’

Slowly Jenna straightened. ‘You had people search for me in Britain?’ She felt her eyes widen. Why? He hadn’t wanted her enough to introduce her to his precious family or consider making her a permanent part of his life, yet he’d searched for her across Europe? What had that cost him? More to the point, she couldn’t imagine the proud, self-contained man she knew doing that.

She shuffled to the edge of the bed, planting her feet on the luxurious carpet, as if grounding herself in reality.

‘I can’t believe you did that.’

His actions scared her.

For days she’d let herself pretend the past and the future didn’t matter. That they had this moment out of time. Now she was forced to face reality. Who Fabrizio was, how powerful. How unequal they were.

Jenna was alone in the world, trying to build a career in the foreign country she’d fallen in love with. She’d made the appalling mistake of believing herself Cinderella to Fabrizio’s Prince Charming. He was a billionaire tycoon from an aristocratic Italian family who saw her as nothing more than light entertainment. Yet he had the wealth and power to set his minions on a fruitless search for her across Rome and far beyond.

For the first time ever, Jenna felt completely powerless beside him. She had no-one but herself to rely on, no fond relatives to support her. Fabrizio had his powerful family and all the resources money could buy.

In one swift movement she was off the bed, sweeping up a discarded wrap and hauling it on as she stumbled across the room, putting as much distance as she could between herself and Fabrizio.

‘What do you want from me?’ she whispered, crossing her arms tight across her body and staring out at the dark sea.

‘Revenge.’ His voice came from right behind her and she spun round to see him naked and imposing, standing within touching distance. For once it wasn’t his superb masculinity that caught her attention, but the fire in his eyes. ‘I wanted to make you pay for leaving like that. When we met again, I wanted to make your life hell.’

Jenna tasted the rusty tang of blood in her mouth as she bit her lip. Fear and distress tore at her. She shrank back but he simply followed, stepping closer till she was crammed up against the cool glass of the French door to the balcony.

‘But I’ve changed my mind,’ he said finally. She followed the movement of muscles in his broad throat as he swallowed. ‘I want you back. I want you with me.’

Jenna shook her head, struggling to take it in. How often had she dreamed of Fabrizio coming after her and begging her to return? It was a foolish dream but she’d never been able to shake its secret allure.

In her dreams he came because he realised he loved her. As if! He hadn’t grown to love her in the months they’d been together, so fury and a desire for revenge certainly wouldn’t do it. Nor would three nights in his bed.

He
wanted
her. He didn’t need or love her.

‘No. That’s not possible.’

But it is,
the voice of temptation whispered.
You want it too.

‘Of course it’s possible. Haven’t we just proved that?’ One sable eyebrow arched knowingly as he swept an arm towards the rumpled bed they’d shared. Satisfaction lurked in the grooves curling at the edges of his mouth, and in his polished pewter eyes.

‘Nevertheless, it’s not going to happen.’

Fabrizio’s face hardened, his smile flattening into a grim line, the light in his eyes changing to something harsh.

‘If you think I’m going to let you go now, Jenna, you don’t know me at all.’

She straightened her shoulders, pulling the slippery silk tie of her robe into a tight bow at her waist, wishing she had something more substantial than a wrap to protect her from his stark determination.

‘You don’t have a choice,’ she murmured huskily, surprised to find her larynx half paralysed. ‘You can’t force me to stay with you.’

She had to remind herself they had no future despite the unsated longing between them. Dully she recognised that for her part it would never be eradicated. This man was in her blood.

His eyes narrowed and fear brushed her flesh again at the feral possessiveness in his expression. He looked dangerous. Half tamed. Like some renegade, not an urbane city businessman.

Her breath stalled as panic clutched her.

Or was it excitement? Fabrizio’s look of primitive ownership sent a thrill through her that shattered every indignant denial hovering on her lips.

To be so wanted by him, to be claimed by him, spoke to her at some deep, primal level.

What would he do to keep her? How far would he go?

He took one step closer, brushing up against her breasts. They tingled, sending a current of electricity jolting straight to her pelvis.

She drew in a sharp breath, inhaling the spicy scent of his skin and her head swam. Behind her the cold glass seemed the only reminder of the world beyond her and Fabrizio.

‘But I won’t need to force you. You’ll stay because you want to. Won’t you, Jenna?’ His mouth curved in a slow, devastating smile that made her heart loop the loop. ‘You don’t really want to leave me. I can see it in your gorgeous eyes. You want me as much as I want you.’

Jenna wanted to slap him down, reject his words and puncture his cocky certainty. She wanted him to leave her alone instead of muscling into her personal space, into the life she was trying to rebuild.

But she couldn’t. Her slow exhale tasted of defeat.

He was right. Despite the pain, the lack of trust, the unevenness of what they felt for each other, part of her still clung to him. It was impossible to walk out on him a second time. She just didn’t have it in her.

The realisation took her out at the knees and she slumped, despair stirring. His arms shot out, hard fingers grabbing her elbows and supporting her.

BOOK: Back In The Italian's Bed
10.64Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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