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Authors: Elizabeth Lennox

The Italian's Bedroom Deal (12 page)

BOOK: The Italian's Bedroom Deal
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She was leaning against the wall outside her bedroom and Max’s hand held him several inches away from her, braced against the wall over her head. He smiled as he looked down into her sleepy eyes. “I can wait until things are right,” he said. His other hand tangled in her hair that was loose around her shoulders. He looked at her for a long moment before he pulled her closer and bent low to kiss her gently on the lips.

 

Clarissa responded just as she always did but, since it was almost midnight and she’d been up since five o’clock in the morning, she was very relaxed.

 

Max chuckled as he looked down at her sleepy face. “You’re too tired to play the seductress tonight. But there’s plenty of time for you to try tomorrow.”

 

“Promise?” she said, her hand covering her mouth as she yawned once again.

 

“Promise. Go to sleep,” he said as he opened the bedroom door for her, then pushed her gently inside.

 

Clarissa climbed into the beautiful rose patterned bed, loving the smell of flowers just under the ornate balcony that wafted through the open doors. Her last thought before she closed her eyes that night was how exciting it was to have permission to try and seduce Max.

Chapter 10

 

Clarissa was enchanted with the small village where Max lived. Wherever they went, they were greeted by people who wanted to have a word with Max but Clarissa didn’t mind the interruption. She liked sitting and watching the men laugh or the children play in the playground. His conversations gave her a chance to smell the flowers and explore the small shops, picking out small gifts for her friends and father.

 

There was a small church where Max introduced her to the priest who was delighted to meet her and even offered to share his lunch with them. Max declined, explaining that he was showing Clarissa around the village. With a wave and a smile, they were off to the ocean where they swam in the warm water, then slept on the beach next to each other on a large beach towel. After their nap, they explored the rocky areas, climbing high onto the cliffs and looking out to sea, watching the sun set over the horizon.

 

The evening was just as nice as the previous one but Clarissa had to admit a bit of surprise when Sophia and Maria were already sitting in the salon when they arrived back at Max’s villa. They again stayed for dinner and Clarissa, exhausted after a full day of sightseeing, fell asleep in the middle of the conversation. She woke to feel Max’s strong arms carrying her up to her bedroom. She leaned her head on his strong shoulder, barely able to open her eyes as she said sleepily, “When was I going to be able to seduce you?” she asked groggily, snuggling her nose into the side of his neck and inhaling deeply.

 

Max chuckled and opened the door to her bedroom. Setting her down on the bed, he leaned down and kissed her gently. “Perhaps tomorrow will have better opportunities,” he suggested.

 

Clarissa was fine with that idea, especially since she had trouble maintaining an upright position right now. “Good. I’ll hold you to that promise.”

 

“Do you need help changing?” he asked.

 

“Yes!” she said, her eyes suddenly lighting up and all traces of fatigue leaving her body. “Yes, I really do!”

 

Max laughed softly and kissed her shoulder, bare where the pretty, flowered sundress stopped. “Okay, I’ll send my mother up to help you.”

 

Clarissa grimaced. “I’d rather you help me,” she said and stood up, walking over to stand next to him. He had one hand on the door knob but his other came up to touch her cheek.

 

He picked up her hand and kissed her fingertips, his eyes never leaving her face. “I don’t think tonight is the right time,” he suggested.

 

Clarissa licked her lips and shook her head, denying his statement. “I think it would be perfect,” she countered. “Why don’t you just help me get out of this dress,” she suggested, her face turning red at such a blatant invitation. She wished she could just pull off her dress and entice him but she wasn’t that confident.

 

“Not yet,” he repeated but he pulled her against him, his hands on her back holding her so he could easily kiss her lips. He kissed her until she was breathless and her hands had crept up to his shoulders. But as soon as her fingers touched his hair, he pulled back.

 

Clarissa wasn’t fooled. She’d felt his body’s reaction and was thrilled that she could have such an immediate impact on him. She was glad she wasn’t the only one that was feeling this way.

 

She could tell that he was trying to control the same desire she was feeling and it frustrated her. “Why do you pull away like that?” She saw the desire in his eyes but at her question, his gaze shuttered and she couldn’t see any emotion any longer. It was as if he were trying to control anything she made him feel.

 

He brushed his finger against her cheek and smiled gently. “You’re tired. We’ll talk in the morning.” He slipped out of the room quietly, winking at her before closing the door.

 

Clarissa sighed and leaned against the closed door, wishing she could figure him out. She let him go because she could see the strain on his face, if not the desire any longer, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t frustrated about the situation. And she didn’t understand why there was so much tension in him but she was immediately concerned that she might be the cause. She didn’t like thinking that she was more of a burden to him than anything else.

 

As she pulled her dress off and hung it in the closet, she determined that she’d talk with him the next day to make sure she wasn’t a bother to him. She wanted to be his mistress or lover, or whatever they were called these days. She definitely didn’t want to be an albatross.

 

Unfortunately, she didn’t have a chance to question him about it the following day. The day was spent with his family, first going to church and then at a large feast held on the back patio of his villa. There were aunts, uncles, nieces, nephews, cousins and so many others she’d lost count. The whole time though, Max kept her by his side, not letting her out of his sight and so many people came up to introduce themselves, she was overwhelmed by their names. By the time lunch was finally served, her mind was spinning with everyone’s faces as she tried to place them in an effort to be polite the next time she saw them.

 

The afternoon seemed to never end and there wasn’t a single moment when she could have a private word with Max about anything, much less the opportunity he’d promised her the previous night. By the time they were on their way back to the airport, she was glaring at him across the back seat of the limousine.

 

“You orchestrated all of this, didn’t you?” she demanded, her arms crossed over her chest.

 

“I’m not sure what you mean,” he replied, and pulled her forward until she was sitting in his lap. His lips covered hers so Clarissa was unable to respond. And when his hands touched her waist, sliding across her stomach, she had no mind to respond anyway. This was new and exciting, feeling his large, strong hand on a place her body had never had another person touch. She shivered in excitement and turned toward his heat, wanting him to touch her in other areas.

 

Her hands reached up and wrapped around his neck, her fingers sliding into his hair and she gasped when his hand slid higher. Not quite touching her breast but resting just underneath.

 

She moaned and shifted, her bottom covering his lap felt his own reaction and she thrilled to it, wiggling her bottom without thought and arching her back, instinctively tempting him to move his hand higher, to provide what her body was aching to feel.

 

When his hand slid to her back, she almost cried out with frustration but he didn’t stop kissing her so she was unable to protest the loss of his hand where she wanted it to move. Then she felt his fingers on the bare skin where her sun dress didn’t cover and the intensity of that left her almost shaking. Could a back really be that sensitive? She’d had no idea!

 

Her fingers curled into fists, gripping his hair and holding him there, desperate for more of him and her body pushing against his hand.

 

“We’re here,” his deep voice said as he pulled away, his breathing just as heavy as hers and his eyes reflecting the desire her whole body was feeling.

 

“Where?” She asked, her fingers slowly releasing his hair as she looked out the window. “Oh,” she gasped and jumped off his lap. They were parked at the airport, one of his private planes ready for takeoff. The stairs were pushed up against the plane and one of the stewardesses was leaning back against the interior of the cabin, as if she’d recently been standing at attention but was no longer sure when the two of them would emerge from the limousine.

 

Clarissa moved across the seat, her hands moving to make sure her dress was still decent. She grimaced when she realized that he hadn’t even unzipped the zipper slightly. What had she turned into? She had been kissing a man and she had completely lost her head. Again. Had she no self control?

 

“Goodness,” she whispered and quickly scooted toward the door and out of the car, careful to keep her dress down over her knees in a feeble attempt at etiquette. “You don’t think they suspected what we were doing, do you?” she whispered when he stepped out behind her.

 

“Of course not,” he replied. His entire flight crew was standing around waiting on a limousine that was not moving. They didn’t suspect anything. They
knew
exactly what was happening inside the car. He smothered a chuckle at her relieved expression, not bothering to correct her assumptions. Putting a hand to the small of her back, he led her to the stairs leading to the interior of the plane. “Come along. Our flight is ready to take off.”

 

They entered the cabin and as soon as the plane was airborne, Max’s cell phone rang. He looked over at her and apologized before picking it up and talking. Clarissa enjoyed listening to him speak in the foreign languages, some of which she knew and others, she had absolutely no grasp of. After a while, she pulled open her laptop and started working herself and soon she was absorbed in the translation of the current novel she was working on.

 

At some point, she must have fallen asleep because several hours later, she heard Max’s voice and his hand gently nudging her awake. “You’re home, Clarissa,” he said softly into her ear.

 

Clarissa sighed in frustration. “Great,” she moaned. Home meant no more days spent in Max’s company, no more exciting conversations, no more waking up and knowing he was in a breakfast room sipping coffee and reading the financial section of the newspaper as he waited for her arrival. She hated that.

 

Getting off the plane, Clarissa felt a slight depression settle into her bones. She’d been with Max for so many days, feeling him next to her, laughing with him, listening as he spoke to her or with someone else and being able to enjoy the deep timber of his voice.

 

Now, being back home on her father’s estate in her small little cottage which didn’t seem as warm and cozy as the sun drenched villa in Sicily, all she wanted to do was to turn around and try to convince Max to follow her inside. But the look on his face moments before he kissed her goodbye told her that her arguments would fall on deaf ears. The man had an agenda and he was using every ploy in his arsenal to get her to marry him.

 

Seeing the determined look on his face, she squared her shoulders, smiled calmly back at him and then walked into her cottage. Moments later, she fell into a puddle of frustration on her quilt covered bed, frustration and unsatisfied sexual desire still pinging around in her body. Damn the man! He had no conscience, she told herself. If she had any self-respect, she’d stop seeing him.

 

But deep down, Clarissa knew that wasn’t an option.

 

Chapter 11

 

The following four weeks were both heaven and hell. She spent several wonderful evenings with Max, dining at delicious restaurants, going to the opera, the ballet, the theatre or to various social functions. At all of them, Max was courteous and attentive, never letting her out of his sight for very long and always pulling her close when she was near, making her feel wanted and desirable.

 

At the end of the evening, he was merciless. The first few nights after their return from Italy, she would willingly fall into his arms, eager for his kisses and his touch that would light her body on fire with need. But he would never follow through with the promise of his kisses. He would leave her aching and shivering with a desire she’d never knew was possible, but he would still leave her. Max was an expert at discovering all of her erogenous zones; her back, her thighs, her neck and shoulders. He never once touched her breasts although they were swollen and aching with the need to feel his hands on them. And he never touched her above the thigh or below her stomach. It was as if he were teasing her.

 

By the third week, she could no longer handle his touch. The night he brought her home from a dinner party, she took a seat as far away from him as she possibly could in the limousine. “Why so far, cara?” he asked and reached out to pull her close.

 

Holding her hands out in front of her, she shook her head and warded off his hands. “No Max. Please don’t touch me.”

 

He laughed softly and shook his head as well. “You don’t really mean that,” he said and pulled her onto his lap.

 

Clarissa quickly grabbed his wrists and held them away from her. “Please Max,” she begged, tears brimming on her lashes and ashamed that she’d reached this level but unable to help it when he did this to her. She was just butter in his hands, melting and eager to feel more. But she was now in pain of frustration and couldn’t take it any longer. She wasn’t sleeping, she wasn’t eating much anymore and her mind couldn’t concentrate on her work. She was slowly losing her mind because of what he put through each night. Or more specifically, what she allowed him to put her through. But hat had to end. She couldn’t take it anymore. “You’ve got to stop. I know by now that you’re not going to make love to me so why bother starting something you don’t intend to finish?”

BOOK: The Italian's Bedroom Deal
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