Gambler's Folly (Bookstrand Publishing Romance) (16 page)

“Hmmm. Maybe it will keep until later.”

They went to the restaurant and had a very nice dinner. She flirted with him throughout the meal, her eyes hinting at activities best done behind closed doors. He responded in kind. They must have been quite the sight.

Dinner finished, Damiano offered his arm as they began the rounds of the gaming rooms. Instead, she slipped her arm around his waist, her fingers drawing tiny circles on his back.

“What are you doing, cara?” he asked.

“Just trying to be friendly,” she responded. “Don’t you like it?”

“It is a little distracting, but nice.”

A little further along, she slipped her fingers beneath the waistband of his trousers, as her arm moved around him. His eyes asked the question, but the look she returned was innocent.

Moving on to the next room, he took her hand in his. Not wanting to let an opportunity go to waste, she raised his hand to her mouth and kissed his fingers one by one, briefly drawing her tongue down his ring finger. The quick intake of breath rewarded her satisfactorily.

For the next hour, she continued to flirt and tease, reaching up to kiss his cheek, rubbing his chest lightly with her fingers, letting her fingers slide beneath the waist of his trousers. She let her body press into his whenever she could, brushing her breasts across his arm or his chest.

The gown she wore was slit in the front, directly over her right leg to halfway up her thigh. As she walked, she made sure he could see as much leg as possible, without making it look like she was trying. But he still seemed very much in control, even after the kiss on the dance floor. It was time to up the ante.

“Dam, could you excuse me for a minute or two?” she asked.

“Where are you going, cara?”

“I need to run to the ladies for a moment. Will you be in this vicinity when I come back?”

“Yes, I can move around in this area for a few minutes. Take your time.”

She kissed him, as seductively as he would allow, and walked toward the ladies’ room. Once there, she checked her makeup and hair, then slipped into a stall. The panties she’d worn for the evening were barely more than a G-string. She’d hoped to get his attention later, when they returned to their suite.

But with his self-control firmly in place, she’d decided on a new tactic. Sliding them off, she folded the scrap of lace and elastic into a square small enough to fit in the palm of her closed hand and walked back out to the gaming room.

“Damiano,” she said in a nice, conversational voice. “Do you have a pocket you could put these in? They were beginning to be uncomfortable.” She took his hand in hers and slipped the bit of lace into it.

As soon as he touched it, she could tell he knew what he was holding. Nostrils flaring, his eyes holding her gaze, he calmly put his hand into his pocket and then pulled her into an embrace. “You bitch,” he whispered. “What is this game you’re playing tonight?”

“This is revenge for what you did to me a couple weeks ago,” she whispered back. “Isn’t this fun?”

His hand slowly swept down the curve of her behind, feeling the nakedness beneath the gown. His nostrils flared again, quickly, and it must have been a trick of the light, but his eyes once again flashed green, pupils in vertical slits for just a moment.

Suddenly his scent changed and increased overwhelmingly, nearly sending her reeling. Pulling her closer, his teeth nipped her neck and then his nose ran the length of her throat. When he looked back at her, his eyes were black pools, his nostrils wide, as if trying to lock her scent into his memory.

“Come, cara. It’s time to move on,” he said, as his arm went around her shoulders, and he turned toward the door to an area of the casino she’d never entered before. She saw him nod to Marco on the way, and he fell in behind them.

They entered a hallway which led to his business office, outside the gaming area. “Marco,” he said, “guard the door and let no one in, no matter what happens. Capisce?”

“Yes, Signor. I’ll watch.”

He locked the door after they passed through into his office, and then turned back to her, his gaze seductive, yet threatening. She had crossed quickly to the other side of the desk once they’d entered, to keep out of reach.

“Now, Damiano, this is not fair,” she complained. “You made me wait until we were all the way back upstairs, and then some. Don’t think I’m going to cave in to you now.”

“Cara, you are the one who started this, and it is a dangerous game you are playing, one in which you don’t even understand the rules. I think maybe it’s time I taught you a lesson.”

He removed his jacket and tie and carefully placed them on the back of the chair. Loosening the top button on his shirt, his look became predatory as he came over the top of the desk. She could have sworn she heard him growl.

Jumping back, she was just out of his reach as he grabbed for her. She ducked and ran back around the desk.

“Damiano, this is ridiculous. Can’t you take a joke?”

His only response was to move toward her, stalking her like a great cat from the darkest jungle, his eyes never leaving hers. Once again his scent became overpowering, the scent which drove her wild with desire at the tamest of times.

Tonight was not one of those times. Now, this new, enhanced scent compelled her to go to him, give herself to him, while something equally strong compelled her to make him prove he could take her.

All the effort she had spent to arouse Damiano had affected her as well. Though determined to make him wait until they were back in the suite, his scent called to her, heady and intoxicating, a temptation to which she was destined to yield. She cleared her head and dodged another attempt.

Watching Damiano, she could clearly see that his eyes had changed. They were now a dark green-gold, and the pupils were slits about halfway open. His canines, as he smiled at her, seemed more prominent. Oddly, her mouth felt strange, too, but she had no time to figure it out. He was once again on the move.

Once caught, she tried to fight him off, on the principal of the matter, as her dress was torn from her body. He seemed to think he had to dominate every situation. It was time he learned a new tune. Of course, fighting him was like a Chihuahua fighting a wolf and destined to failure. One of his arms circled her body and crushed her against him. The fingers of his other hand seized her hair, forcing her face toward his.

She felt his mouth on hers and attempted to resist, but inevitably he won the struggle, kissing her deeply, hungrily, as if he’d gone without for far too long. The taste of his mouth was like the ambrosia of the gods. Her defenses had been weakened by his scent and now his taste was the most exquisite and intoxicating wine she’d ever tasted. In seconds she was as eager as he was.

He began to lower her to the floor, and she suddenly realized this wasn’t going as planned. Struggling with him once again, she looked into those green-gold eyes and heard a growl from deep in his chest. From some primitive part of her being, she bared her teeth at him and hissed like an angry tabby facing a German Shepherd. His eyes dilated, nostrils flared, as he forcefully pressed her into the thick carpet.

Continuing his assault on her mouth, he was not prepared for the quick shove and roll she performed. Scrambling to her feet, she raced to the other side of the room. At some point, it had become a game of keep-away. While she wanted him worse than she’d ever wanted him before, he would have to win her over or take her by force. There would be no easy victory.

His eyes dilated, he kept his gaze on her as he undressed. Frustrated, he tore the shirt off in a shower of buttons, while the trousers fell in a heap on the floor. He began to stalk toward her, slowly and carefully. Step by step he came up to her, his left shoulder to hers, and, still holding her gaze, growled softly. Growling back softly, she stood still as a statue, another change in his scent urging her to stillness.

How long they stood there she could never say, but after a time, he slowly pivoted to stand behind her. With his hands on her shoulders, he inhaled her scent deeply, as his nose nuzzled the hair at the nape of her neck.

Suddenly his teeth were on her throat, over her jugular, and he was once again forcing her to the floor, facedown. Lying beneath him, his teeth in her throat, she heard a sound reminiscent of a wild cat scream, finally recognizing the voice as her own. Releasing her throat, Damiano flipped her onto her back, his body on hers, waiting.

Without knowing why, Karianna arched her back, exposing her throat to him. His teeth closed over her throat again, but gently, holding her there for a moment, before he began nipping her throat and neck playfully, and she his.

Their lovemaking was wild, very nearly violent at first, and then slowed to painfully sensuous, and ended in fireworks. He was determined to wring from her every response she could give, every pleasure she could yield, each motion designed to tease from her even the faintest nuances of pleasure. And each time she reached her peak his tactics changed, bringing her again and again to her threshold of fulfilled desire.

Finally, completely drained, she had given everything she had. Lying limply beneath him, desire sated, she said, “Dam, no more. I have no more to give.”

“Cara,” he said quietly. “I demand everything. All or nothing. There is more for you to surrender, and I will have it.”

He began again, slowly and masterfully, sensing exactly what would bring her once more to the fullness of her pleasure. As her senses awakened, her desire grew and blossomed under his insistent attentions. And at last, his release came with hers, producing a white-hot explosion of energy within her. The cat in him roared its triumph, as the cat in her screamed its defiance, before they both collapsed in exhaustion, right there on the floor.

When they finally woke, it was very late, past closing time for the casino. Their mingled scents lingered, along with the scent of their lovemaking, while the room looked like it had been struck by a bomb. Looking over at Damiano, she saw him watching her, eyes gray, teeth perfectly matched and human. He smiled, leaned close to her, and snapped his teeth at her. Uncannily, she returned the greeting, understanding its intimacy at some level she’d never before known.

“What are you?” she asked bluntly.

“The same as you,” he answered.

“I think we need to talk.” There was a lot here she didn’t understand.

“First, something to eat I think,” he said, and then looked around the office. “No, first some clothes. Let me call Marco.”

Though it was three o’clock in the morning, Marco still stood watch outside the door. Damiano had showered first, and as Karianna entered the bathroom, she heard him talking to Marco.

“Marco, thank you,” he began. “Could you send someone for fresh clothing for both of us? And after we leave, we’ll need housekeeping and probably maintenance in here.”

“Damiano,” Marco said, “your scent. Am I mistaken or…?”

“No, you are not mistaken. I had not intended this, but tell me, how could I stop it once it began?”

“Damiano, is this wise?”

“Wise? Probably not, but what could I do? I’m only human.”

Flexing his shoulders, he added, “We’ll need some of that herbal salve also. The term ‘hellcat’ comes to mind.”

Marco chuckled deeply. “It seems you’ve met your match,
amico mio
. Does she understand?”

“Not yet. I would like it if you and Paolo came up when we talk. You know how it affects some people.”

“Bene, amico. I’ll talk to him after I send some clothes down for you. And the salve.”

What was it she didn’t understand, she wondered. As she peeked around the door, she could see the reason for salve. Bright red scratches covered his back, some seeping, others beginning to scab over. Really? She’d done that? How did one apologize for something like that? No matter, she thought. She had to get clean.

The hot water felt wonderful until she turned to let it spray onto her back. The cascade of water stung viciously. She turned down both the temperature and the pressure to let the water fall onto her shoulders and run down instead. As she washed her hair, the shampoo tingled and stung her back, even after she’d rinsed it off.

Having learned her lesson, she did not dry her back as she normally would. Instead, she dried off the front of her torso, her legs and feet, and then wrapped the towel around her body, wincing. The mirror was completely fogged from the hot shower, so she wiped it with another towel.

The person looking back at her must have had a busy night. Love bites cascaded down her throat, and as she turned sideways to look at her back, she saw scratches to match Damiano’s. She’d realized the previous evening had been intense, but it must have been much more energetic than she remembered. There were a few things about which she was still confused. Some of them must have been sheer imagination. A light tap at the door drew her attention away.

“Cara, may I come in?” Damiano asked.

She opened the door, looked at him, and laughed out loud. “Don’t you think, after our adventures last night, that the question is absurd?”

He thought it over for a few seconds, shrugged his oh-so-marvelous shoulders—down girl, not now—and answered, “You could be right. How are your scratches, cara?”

“A lot like yours, I believe. I hope whatever clothes Marco is bringing up are very loosely fitting.”

“He understands our situation, so I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

“And then can we eat? I’m starving!”

* * * *

Dressed in a flowing caftan, Karianna devoured her breakfast as if she’d been fasting for a week. She didn’t feel bad about it, as she watched Damiano wolf down enough to feed a full company of men. Finally slowing down a bit, she had a sip of her coffee and watched Damiano, bemused.

“Is something wrong?” he asked.

“I’m not sure yet,” she answered. “Whatever is in that salve Marco brought us is marvelous, though. I can barely feel any of the scratches from last night.”

“I know. It’s wonderful stuff. I bring it back from Earth, whenever I get the chance to visit my family there.”