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Ever since then he had wanted to repay their generosity and acceptance by making something of himself, making them proud. Rico, the cousin who had befriended the suspicious, unruly boy, had been his rock, his confidant, his best friend, helping him catch up with school work. They had done everything together, including going to medical school. He'd felt driven to succeed—to prove to his aunt and uncle, and to Rico, that they had been right to invest their time in him. And to prove to himself that he was strong, that he could survive, could
be
something, that he was worthy of having people care about him. He hadn't realised quite how deeply his past still affected him until just now, telling Gina things he had never shared with anyone, including Rico.

'So there you have it—the grisly details of my life,' he said, trying to pass off the acute feeling of vulnerability he was experiencing with a false bravado.

'Don't make light of it,' Gina chided gently, curling her fingers with his, warmth and understanding in her expression. 'It can't have been easy to tell me, but I'm honoured that you did. Thank you. Your past is part of you, it's helped
shape you, and you should be proud of yourself—of all that you have achieved.'

If confiding in Gina
had
unconsciously been a test, then she had passed with flying colours.. .and she had turned the tables on him. He felt uncharacteristically emotional. Needing a few moments to regain his equilibrium, he let go of her hands and rose to his feet, his voice husky and unsteady as he turned away from her and reached for their empty plates.

'You go out on the terrace and enjoy the view,' he suggested, praying she wouldn't argue. 'I'll clear up these things, then we can go to Signora Mancini's.'

She hesitated for an endless moment, and he held his breath, waiting. Then her hand briefly rubbed his back before it was withdrawn.

'OK.' He closed his eyes at the soft understanding and edgy emotion she didn't try to hide. 'Thanks for the meal, it was delicious.'

When Gina had left the kitchen, Seb poured himself a glass of water and drank it down. He'd thought he needed time alone, but already he missed her. And he sure as hell wished he had never agreed for her to spend the night at the bed and breakfast. He needed her here.

What was happening to him? He'd never experienced this kind of immediate rapport with anyone. Yes, he desired her. But it was so much more than just the physical, as important and urgent as that was. Gina accepted him. To her he was just Seb. His past didn't colour her view of him—she simply saw the person he was now, saw all that had gone before as making the whole. Yet he was horribly aware that he still hadn't told Gina the entire truth. He had held back because he was scared that when she knew what he had done with his career these last years she would see him differently, think less of him, judge him harshly—as he did
himself. And he feared, too, that the reality of his fame and his money would irrevocably change things between them.

Confused, troubled, yet needing to be close to Gina every moment he could, he finished up and walked out to the terrace.

Gina leaned on the balustrade wall at the edge of the villa's expansive terrace, her mind buzzing with thoughts of all Seb had revealed to her about his past. Dusk was fading to the darkness of night, and moonlight played over the softly undulating surface of the sea beyond the cliffs. Neptune's Spear was a brooding shape, silhouetted offshore from the crescent of beach far below.

She ached for what Seb had borne as a young boy, ripped away from all that was safe following the death of his father, scared and confused by the erratic behaviour of a troubled mother on drink and drugs who'd flitted from man to man. And then to find her dead, to be left alone so young, trying to survive on the street... Thank God for the aunt and uncle who had searched for him and taken him in, given him a loving home and a secure future.

A proud and private man, it must have cost Seb to confide in her. And he'd been affected by the telling, she knew. She sensed he'd needed time alone to gather his thoughts.. .just as she'd had to stem her tears for the boy he had been. It seemed so unfair, given all he had been through in his youth, that he now faced what could be life-changing injuries to his hands—all due to a selfless act, helping someone in trouble. How worried he must be about being able to paint again. She wished she knew more about the damage to his nerves and tendons, the possible long-term effects, wished he wasn't so unwilling to talk about it or allow her to help him. There was so much she didn't know about him and his life...including how he had come to be on Elba, painting and acting as caretaker for this villa.

Gina felt rather than heard Seb approach behind her. A shiver of awareness rippled down her spine as he stepped up close and personal, his hands coming to rest either side of hers on top of the wall, his body brushing against her, trapping her in place. Flames of desire uncoiled inside her as the warmth of his breath fanned her skin. Soft, stolen kisses were followed by the teasing lick of his tongue, and when his teeth grazed against her, indulging in a gentle bite of possession, she whimpered, close to melting on the spot.

Succumbing to the urge, she turned in his arms, intending to... Well, she wasn't sure what she intended because the sultry intensity in his eyes banished every single thought from her brain. Seb raised a hand, his fingers whispering across her cheek before they glided along her neck, cupping her nape, holding her in place. She barely had time to draw in a shaky, fractured breath before his lips met hers in a bone-weakening, passionate kiss that instantly flared out of control. Her response was instinctive, inevitable, swamping her under a tidal wave of desire. His free arm wound round her waist, drawing her tight against him, while her own rose to link around his neck. He groaned, changing the angle, deepening the kiss, taking more, giving more, his tongue exploring, twining with hers, drawing her back into his own mouth, sucking on her. Gina lost herself in Seb, in heady passion, the ache of need deep inside her increasing and craving satisfaction.

They broke apart, just far enough and for long enough to drag oxygen into parched lungs, their panting breaths mingling, heartbeats thudding in a frantic dual rhythm. His voice was little more than a rough murmur when he spoke. 'I know this is fast.'

'It's crazy,' she murmured back.

'This thing between us is incredible.'

Gina couldn't deny it. 'Yes.'

'It is not a line,
tesoro.'
He switched to Italian, as if needing his first language to express the depth of his emotion. 'I have
never
felt like this about any woman before. I cannot explain it, to you or to myself, but from the first moment I saw you I was lost. There was an inner recognition, a meeting of souls.'

It was heady stuff, and she was Unable to resist him or her own yearning. 'Seb.'

'Kissing you is wonderful. You're honey-sweet...' He punctuated his praise with tormentingly brief caresses, nibbling her lips, teasing the corner of her mouth with his tongue-tip until she was frantic for more. 'But it's not enough, Gina. I need to see you, to touch you, to taste you everywhere, to fill you completely.'

'Oh, God.' The words trembled out of her as her mind filled with erotic images.

He lifted her so she was sitting on the terrace wall, his fingers skimming her jean-clad thighs, which parted of their own-volition so he could step between them. She moaned, unable to stop herself wriggling closer, rubbing against the hard evidence of his arousal, desperate to ease the pressure that built within her. He continued to tease her with half-kisses and devastating strokes of his tongue, until she was forced to bury her hands in the thickness of his hair and take what she so urgently needed. He met and matched her hunger, his kiss pure sin. She couldn't get enough of him.

Seb was busy with the buttons of her top, and she quivered involuntarily at the exquisite touch of his fingers on her bare flesh. The pads of his thumbs were stroking circles around her navel, making her muscles tauten, and then his fingers skimmed her ribs, before his hands moved on to explore and caress her back. Lost in a slow, deep kiss, she was vaguely aware of him unsnapping the fastening of her bra, but it was only when he brushed the lacy cups aside and the fullness of her breasts spilled into his waiting palms that she gasped, her head dropping back, her hands leaving his hair to clasp his shoulders for support. He continued to torment her, tracing the outline of each breast, circling inwards, but never quite touching where she most needed him.

'Please,' she begged, unable to wait another second.

Seductive, heavy-lidded eyes watched her as she arched to his touch. Then his hands cupped her fully, firm and sure, and she cried out at the terrible joy of it, awash with sensation after sensation as he shaped her, caressed her, driving her crazy with want. Taut, sensitised nipples demanded attention, and darts of fire speared through her as his thumbs brushed over and around them. When she felt the cool evening breeze against her flaming skin, she opened her eyes, finding him watching her.

He waited endless moments, ignoring her pleas, feasting his gaze on her, then he lowered his head, and finally his mouth was there, warm and moist, teasing and tormenting her swollen nipple with lips, teeth and tongue. Just when she thought she couldn't bear it any longer, he closed his mouth around her and suckled her strongly inside, nearly sending her into orbit at the searing pleasure.

'Oh, Seb!'

It was too much.. .not enough. She writhed against him, seeking relief for the waves of ecstasy crashing over her. Her hands dragged at his jumper and the T-shirt beneath, needing to feel his skin. The fire threatened to consume them both. His own hands cupped her rear, pulling her tighter, and she locked her legs around his hips, pressing herself against him, wishing for all the world that two pairs of jeans were not separating them. Her flesh burned, her body craved fulfilment.

Slowly, noisily, reluctantly, his mouth released its prize, a rough moan escaping him as she dragged her fingernails along his spine.

'Gina, you are so beautiful, so responsive,' he murmured against her skin, working his way to her neglected breast at such a lingering pace she wanted to scream with frustration. 'Feel what you do to me,' he demanded, rocking more insistently against her, making her sob with the force of her desire. 'Making love is going to be indescribable for us.'

She had never felt so wanted. Had never been so out of control. Had never needed anyone with such desperate urgency. His mouth claimed her nipple, conducting the same sensual torture as it had to its twin, and she closed her eyes, arching to him, feeling the heat radiating off his skin, his muscles flexing under her fingers, the earthy, masculine fragrance of him making her light-headed.

'Stay with me. Please, Gina.'

'I can't. Not tonight,' she whispered, tempted almost beyond endurance. 'I have to go, Seb. We agreed.'

Seb cursed under his breath, trying to get his raging body back under some semblance of control. He could seduce Gina into his bed in an instant. They both knew it. Both wanted it with a desperation that was painful. But, foolishly, he had promised, so he had no one to blame but himself. With her grandmother on her mind, Gina was understandably distracted. If and when she came to him, he wanted it to be completely, knowingly, willingly, with nothing else to think about but the special magic between them.

Smothering a groan, he wrapped his arms around her and held her close, giving them both time to bank down the flames of passion that burned so fiercely between them. When he felt strong enough to behave, he drew back and reluctantly fixed her clothes back into place. It was a crime to cover up such voluptuous beauty, but he wanted no one seeing her or touching her but him. His task completed, he cupped her face in his hands, seeing the regret and the remaining sparks of desire in her soul-deep eyes.

'I'll drive you back.' He managed to force the words out, stepping away and helping her down off the wall, steadying her as she swayed. A draught of breeze rippled across the terrace, and he felt a shiver run through her as the heat of their passion subsided. 'You are cold,
tesoro.'

Without waiting for her confirmation, he peeled off his jumper and helped her put it on, his body responding instinctively to the way she wrapped herself in it, closing her eyes and burying her face in the fabric, as if breathing in his scent. Lashes lifted and dark eyes looked into his. His breath lodged in his throat.
Madre del Dio.
He couldn't help himself. He
had
to kiss her again.

Eventually he did the right thing, and drove her the short distance off the Cape to Signora Mancini's. So why did it feel so much like the
wrong
thing?

'I don't want to leave you here,' he complained, linking his fingers with hers as they walked hand in hand to the front door.

'Signora Mancini will be worried. I need to speak to her about Nonna, and to settle up for our stay—I promised her I would be here. And I have the packing to do.'

Seb was disappointed, but he knew Gina's mind was made up. 'If you are sure that is what you want. But you will promise me one thing,' he demanded, turning her to face him, noting that her lips were still plump from his kisses.

'What is it?'

'You will phone or text me at any time of the night if you want to talk or you want me to come and pick you up?'

For a moment she hesitated. 'I—'

'Promise me, Gina,' he insisted, and his urgency, his need, must have registered, because a sweet, understanding smile gentled her expression, and the palm of her free hand brushed soothingly across his face.

'Yes. I promise.'

'Thank you.'

'Thank
you,'
she stressed. 'For today, for Nonna...for everything.'

He cupped her cheek, needing to feel her silken skin against his own. 'There is nothing to thank me for. I will do anything I can for you, and for Maria.'