The Italian's Bedroom Deal (11 page)

She looked up at him, her hands itching to feel his warm skin again, to feel his hard body pressed against hers and know that exhilarating feeling when he kissed her. “What’s the point? I’m not going to change my mind.”

“Yes, you are,” he said and slipped his jacket off and wrapped it around her shoulders. “Come along. My driver is out front. I’ll see you home.”

Clarissa sat in the back of the limousine snuggled into his jacket. She loved the scent of his cologne that wrapped around her on all sides from the fabric. It was still warm from his body and, while driving back to her cottage, she imagined what it would be like to lay in his arms, his body heat surrounding her instead of only his jacket. She snuck several peaks at him as the street lights illuminated the interior of the limousine but his grim determination only irritated her so she stopped looking.

She longed to argue with him about his last statement, but couldn’t generate enough interest. She was firmly set on her side of the fence, and he was on his. There wasn’t much room to wiggle.

The driver pulled smoothly up to her small cottage and she stepped out, shrugging the jacket off her shoulders, prepared to give it back to him. But he surprised her by getting out behind her and walking her to the door, his warm hand burning a hole in her dress at the small of her back.

At the door, she opened it, never needing keys when she lived on the estate with her father’s security team around. His eyes noticed the lack of a locked door and he scowled. “You don’t lock it?”

“No. Why should I?” she asked, turning to say a crisp goodnight to him but he had other intentions.

“You’ll lock this door from now on, understand?” he told her and walked in ahead of her.

She watched as he walked through her small family room, turning on lights and checking the windows, locking each of them. “Max? What are you doing?” she asked, following him through the cottage.

“I’m making sure you’re alone,” he said and walked into her kitchen, turning on more lights as he went. He checked the other windows and doors in her bedroom and bathroom, locking each of them.

Clarissa stood in the middle of the room impatiently. “Max, I live within my father’s perimeter which is practically Fort Knox. There are guard dogs and security fences all around not to mention the secret body guards my father has watching me around the clock. No one’s going to be able to get in here without one of those security measures being tripped up.”

“Just allow me my little idiosyncrasies, cara,” he said a moment before he pulled her into his arms, holding her close against his body as his mouth covered hers in a thorough kiss that left her breathless once again. Just as suddenly, he released her and walked out the door. With one hand on the door handle, he turned back to look at her, winking as he took in her disoriented appearance. “I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

He shut the door a moment later and she was still reeling from his kiss when she heard the limousine pull away.

Chapter 9

Clarissa wasn’t sure what she was doing. She was going to the ballet with Max but there was no future for them. Why was she wasting her time?

She’d spent the day working on her latest book, her fingers flying over the keyboard as she worked out the details. The characters were wonderful, funny, intelligent and the man really knew how to kiss, she thought. It was a mystery and the private detective reminded her of Max and how strong he was. Oh, sure, she knew Max was much too busy to solve mysteries or chase bad guys down the street late at night. But he was definitely the hero type. His macho arrogance and bulging muscles would make him any woman’s fantasy hero.

In her frustration and determination to put Max out of her mind, she plowed through several chapters in the book, translating it into French and by the time she looked at the clock late in the afternoon, she’d made a good deal of progress.

She sat at her desk, contemplating the time. If she was going to the ballet with Max, she needed to start getting ready now. If she wasn’t going, she needed to call him and tell him. Would he have already left the office by now? She knew his cell phone number but didn’t dare to call him. She didn’t want to talk to him, knowing he’d just ignore her backing out of the night. Perhaps she could call his secretary and have her relay the message to Max. Would that work? Would he accept it?

Sighing, she knew he’d show up no matter how she got a message to him. Turning off her computer, she accepted that Max’s determination was part of the reason she was so attracted to him. He knew what he wanted and went after it with single minded purpose.

An hour later, the doorbell rang and she lifted her shawl off the back of the sofa before opening the door. “You didn’t check to see who it was, Clarissa,” he said before pulling her into his arms. He kissed her thoroughly, then released her and took her hand to lead her out to the car. Clarissa sat in the back of the car in shock as she listened to him ask her questions. She wasn’t sure what she replied, too stunned by her body’s reaction to his kiss, but he was obviously satisfied with her answers.

Her confusion lasted through the entire ballet performance. She was sure that it was probably a well performed event with masterful dancers and she had a vague idea of fabulous costumes and settings. But Max sat next to her in a private box, his hand holding hers hostage. He laid her hand on his thigh during the first half of the performance which had her mind spinning. Her fingers wanted to run up and down the muscles underneath her palms but she forced her hand to remain still, unsure of what the correct thing to do in this situation. She’d never put her hand on another man’s arm, much less his thigh so she was painfully nervous and excited.

During intermission, Max kept his arm around her waist, holding her close as others came up to talk with him on various subjects. While his acquaintances discussed business or different events, Max’s hand rested low on her back. Much lower than when he was guiding her around some place. It wasn’t on her derriere but it was enticingly low. He kept her back to the wall so others wouldn’t be able to see where his hand was but she knew. And she had no idea what was being asked of her.

During the second half of the performance, Max took her hand once again and laid it palm side up. She tried to pull it away, but he wouldn’t let her. And when he started to make patterns on the palm, Clarissa almost groaned with the agony of desire his touch sparked. She was able to control her reactions only by staring straight ahead, pretending to the rest of the audience that nothing out of the ordinary was happening. She couldn’t even care that so many people kept staring at their box as long as Max continued with his erotic touch. It was the first time she’d been on display and hadn’t cared a fig.

When the ballet let out, several of Max’s friends met them outside in the lobby and everyone agreed to dine together at a nearby restaurant. Clarissa didn’t want to eat. She wanted to tear her hand away from Max’s and beg him to show her more. She loved the way she was feeling right now and wanted to continue to explore this new world.

At the restaurant, the conversations were lively and she enjoyed everyone. But when they left, she wanted to fall into Max’s arms. Instead, he kept her close by his side, but didn’t touch her in any other way. Until they reached her door.

As a challenge to him, she hadn’t locked her door. He growled down at her a moment before he pulled her into his arms. But just as he had the other two times, he only kissed her passionately before stepping away and starting to walk back to his limousine. A few steps away, he stopped and turned back to her.

“I have to go out of town for several days. If I arrange it, will you meet me in Sicily for a long weekend?” he asked.

“A long weekend?” she gasped, her eyes lighting up with excitement. “Will you show me your house?”

“Absolutely. And I’ll show you a part of Italy that is much different from what we saw previously.”

“I’d love it,” she breathed.

“I’ll send a car for you.” He touched her cheek a moment before leaving.

Three days later, she was on one of Max’s jets and she was flying over the ocean, her excitement at seeing him after an absence of three days almost making her jump up and down in her seat.

When the plane touched down and taxied over to the private landing area, she was thrilled to see him standing there waiting for her. Her instinct was to rush out of the plane and throw herself into his arms, but after three days, she was too shy and insecure of his reaction so when the doors were opened, she smiled tentatively and walked sedately down the steps.

When she was a foot away from him, he shook his head. “Not a very enthusiastic greeting, cara,” he said.

Without any further prompting, she smiled and jumped the last foot into his arms. He caught her easily, and pulled her against him, his arms lifting her higher so he could reach her mouth without bending down. “You look beautiful,” he said a moment before his mouth claimed hers.

The drive to his home was fascinating as he pointed out several interesting sights along the way. When the driver pulled into the long, tree lined driveway, Clarissa gasped in excitement as she surveyed his home. In true Italian style, the roman archways and climbing vines decorated his house, making it look both elegant and yet still welcoming.

The cool tile entryway was lovely and a maid greeted her as the two of them walked in, handing both of them a tall, cold glass of lemonade. “Buon giorno,” Clarissa smiled politely.

The maid replied back and then disappeared quickly.

“Have you been studying Italian?” Max asked, his arms slipping around her waist and hugging her gently.

“Maybe a little. I didn’t know much the last time I was here and it was confusing at times.”

“It sounds very sexy when you speak it,” he replied, his lips nuzzling her neck.

Clarissa shivered with delight as she felt his lips against her neck, moving to her shoulder and then back up to take her ear lobe between his teeth. She had trouble holding the glass of lemonade in her hands since they started shaking so much.

“Max, release that woman at once,” a strong, female voice said from one of the three hallways leading to the entry way.

Clarissa gasped and opened her eyes, looking around to see where the voice had come from.

She saw a lovely, elderly woman with black hair and merry eyes walking gracefully down the hallway toward them, a smile on her face as she extended her hand toward Clarissa. “Since my son has lost all of his manners, I’m forced to introduce myself. It is a pleasure to meet you, my dear. I’m Max’s mother. You may call me Sophia.”

Clarissa could not believe that she’d been caught in such a compromising position by Max’s mother. She tried to slip out of his arms while still holding the now slippery glass of lemonade and shake Sophia’s hand all at the same time. Max refused to let her go so she was forced to extend her hand and wait for the woman to meet her.

“It is lovely to meet you as well,” she said, wishing she didn’t sound so stiff. What on earth was his mother doing here? She’d been hoping that they would be alone and it would give her more opportunity to seduce Max. She’d planned it all out, even down to the very sexy, very transparent negligee packed away in her bags. She’d searched through several stores to find exactly what she was looking for and the soft, pink silk nightgown was perfect for a seduction, if she could find the courage to wear it in front of Max. So why was his mother eagerly shaking her hand, smiling into Clarissa’s eyes as if this were a normal moment and not one of the most embarrassing of her life.

This was definitely not how her long weekend alone with Max was supposed to progress.

Despite the wish that she was alone with Max, she was delighted with both Sophia as well as Maria, Max’s younger sister. Both women chatted almost non-stop, including her in all the conversations and speaking only in English so she wouldn’t feel left out. They talked bout everything under the sun and by the time dinner was finished, Clarissa felt as if she’d known the women for years.

“It is time for bed,” Max declared when he caught Clarissa smothering a yawn over after dinner drinks.

Clarissa hid her fatigue and shook her head, not wanting to be the wet blanket on the evening. “No, please, don’t break up the night simply because of me. I’ll be fine.”

Max ignored her protests and stood up, taking her brandy glass out of her hands and pulling her to her feet. He said a soft goodnight to his mother and sister before pulling Clarissa out of the room, his arm automatically going around her waist as he led her out of the salon.

Clarissa couldn’t help but feel disappointment as they climbed the stairs. “I’m not sharing your room this weekend, am I?” she asked sleepily, leaning her head against his massive shoulder. It was one of those actions she’d never have the courage to initiate if she were more awake. Thankfully, Max didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he pulled her closer, his hand moving to her neck and she felt his fingers play with her hair.

“Of course not, cara. You’ll have your own bedroom until it is time,” he replied, pulling her closer and pressing a kiss on the top of her head.

He stopped outside a doorway and Clarissa looked up at him. “You don’t know what you’re missing, Max.” She was trying to be a temptress, but she could tell by the determined look on his face that it wasn’t working. He was not budging on his determination that they weren’t going to share a room.