Back In The Italian's Bed

by Annie West

  ‘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.

  ‘Is it so very bad?’ His terse question surprised her and she looked up. Yet she couldn’t read his enigmatic expression. It was neither triumph nor anger, yet its intensity was like a brand on her skin. ‘Being together has its benefits, hasn’t it?’

  He was asking? She was so used to Fabrizio asserting, it was disconcerting hearing him voice the question. Almost as if he was on shaky ground.

  ‘For you.’

  ‘And for you, cara. Don’t try to pretend you don’t enjoy what we share.’ His head dipped towards hers and fear rose. Fear that she’d simply give in to the dictates of her body and his expert seduction.

  With a surge of energy she pushed at his chest, holding him off till he pulled back, his frown questioning.

  Jenna took advantage of the momentary respite to break out of his hold and sidle away to the other side of the open French door. She looked back at him across the opening.

  Dawn light painted his skin golden, highlighting the curves and planes of his muscled frame. His potent masculinity caught her breath, but it was the gleam in his clear gaze that twisted her heart. She loved his quick mind, his wit, his charm, his tender generosity even more than his perfect male body.

  She sighed. She was doomed never to have the whole package that was Fabrizio Armati. He offered her physical pleasure, but nothing else.

  She’d tried running and it hadn’t worked. Now she’d found her way back into his bed she couldn’t willingly leave it.

  Yet perhaps she could protect herself. If she took a leaf out of his book. If she kept sex separate to the rest of her life. If she embarked on a liaison that was physical, pure pleasure, instead of emotional.

  Impossible, screamed an inner voice. You’re already in love with him.

  What choice did she have? Retreat wasn’t an option. All she could do was shore up her defences, barricade her heart as best she could and hope that intimacy, coupled with the knowledge Fabrizio would never return her feelings, might eventually kill those feelings for him.

  Her shoulders slumped. ‘You win, Fabrizio.’

  She watched him struggle not to grin but the triumph was clear in his eyes as he closed the gap between them. He came up against her outstretched palm.

  ‘I’ll be with you,’ she said, her voice rough. ‘But on my terms.’

  CHAPTER SIX

  FABRIZIO SAT BACK in his chair and let the discreet buzz of Rome’s most chic and expensive restaurant wash over him.

  He should be pleased with life. He’d closed the deal with De Laurentis on the terms he wanted and was now the possessor of the exquisite Villa Bellini. The land he wanted to purchase in the Seychelles was in the bag and negotiations in Hong Kong were going well. Closer to home he had Jenna, luscious, sexy Jenna back in his bed.

  He watched the sway of her pert backside in that tight red dress as she sashayed through the dinner crowd to the ladies restroom.

  He leaned back, wondering why he felt no satisfaction when everything was going as he wished.

  Everything except his plans for Jenna.

  For three weeks they’d been lovers again and she was just as amorous, just as bewitching as ever. In fact there was an edge to her passion that almost stole his breath, an intensity he was sure hadn’t been there before. At first it had thrilled him. Now…

  His skin prickled with the feeling that someone walked over his grave. He had an uneasy suspicion it didn’t bode well.

  She was back in his bed but that was all. Every day she insisted on leaving at dawn to go back to her tiny rented apartment across Rome to get ready for work. There were days when they couldn’t meet for lunch because she claimed to be too busy at the office, though she no longer ran the Villa Bellini and was merely working in De Laurentis’s Rome offices.

  The thought of her working for his rival made his blood boil but she refused to stop. Even when he offered her the equivalent of a handsome wage, just so she could give up her job and be with him. Didn’t she realise he’d look after her?

  There were even nights when she was too busy or too tired to meet him. As if she had trouble fitting him in her schedule!

  Worse, he read the smudged shadows under her bright eyes and wondered if he’d put them there.

  Impossible! The sex was as stupendous as ever. Jenna wanted him as much as he did her. He was sure of it.

  Yet he wasn’t sure of her.

  Why keep her distance? Why not simply move in with him? The hell of it was, the more she kept a space between them, the more he wanted to smash down the barriers she’d put up and keep her glued to his side, where she belonged.

  He still hadn’t got to the bottom of why she’d left him before. Every time he pressed she shied away and, wary of disrupting what they had, he backed off. But not knowing was like a sliver of ice jammed in his spine, keeping him on edge. He hated not knowing. It made him feel…not in control.

  Jenna emerged back in the dining room and with a familiar swirl of excitement in his belly he watched her progress. Male heads turned as she passed but she seemed not to notice. Her eyes were on him and he felt a thrill of possessiveness. Those lush lips were glossy and full and soon they’d be on his.

  He wouldn’t take no for an answer tonight. For two days she’d claimed she hadn’t the time to meet him. Tonight he’d remind her exactly what she’d been missing. She’d be putty in his hands. He couldn’t wait.

  ‘Ready to go? I’ve paid the bill.’

  She paused, eyes widening a fraction. Then understanding dawned. He saw the moment her eyes turned smoky with anticipation and his heartbeat sped up. ‘If you are.’

  He was on his feet in a moment. With Jenna he was always ready. He’d never known such insistent, all-encompassing desire as for this woman.

  Arm in arm they left the restaurant for his limo. Twenty minutes later they were in his palazzo.

  ‘A drink?’

  Jenna looked up into Fabrizio’s hands
ome face and almost walked straight into his arms. She knew he’d sweep her up the grand marble staircase straight to his bedroom if she let him, that his question was mere politeness.

  But she made herself nod. ‘That would be lovely, thanks.’

  She ignored the flash of surprise in his eyes and followed him into the vast, opulent salon where generations of Armatis had relaxed and entertained.

  From his expression he’d obviously expected to have her in his bed in sixty seconds flat. As he usually did.

  That was what frightened her, and made her delay. She’d thought by setting some boundaries, not moving in with him or being always at his beck and call, she could take the edge off this passion. But the strength of her feelings for Fabrizio hadn’t faded.

  What had she expected? That she could conquer love with a little distance?

  Jenna squeezed her eyes shut, knowing she’d been a fool. She should never have let him persuade her back into his bed and his life. Every moment she spent with him just reinforced what she felt for him. She was in too deep. Extricating herself would take all her strength.

  ‘Jenna? Are you all right?’

  She snapped her eyes open and nodded. ‘Of course. Just a little tired.’ She nodded at the bottle in his hands. She knew from the label it was the premier wine made at his own vineyard. ‘What are we celebrating?’

  He glanced at the bottle of Prosecco then at her. ‘Do I need an excuse when I have the pleasure of your company, cara?’ His gaze drifted over her tight red dress, lingering on her cleavage, making her nipples harden. Fabrizio smiled wolfishly, deftly twisting the bottle till the cork came out with a pop.

  Jenna’s insides liquefied at the desire in his eyes. The same desire pounded in her bloodstream.

  Yet part of her bridled that he took for granted she was there for his pleasure. It was true. She couldn’t deny him when he took her in his arms. But that didn’t make her feel any better about it, trapped as she was between her feelings for him and the cold, hard truth that the longer she stayed with Fabrizio, the more difficult their inevitable parting.

  Finally he looked away and she almost sagged in relief.

  He poured the sparkling wine into elegant crystal flutes. ‘To us,’ he said as he held out a glass to her and raised the other in salute.

  Now. Now was the time to tell him.

  ‘There may not be an us for much longer,’ she said finally over the tightness in her throat. It was stupid of her. This was the chance she needed to break the web that bound her to him. Yet she’d hesitated because in her heart of hearts she needed him even though he didn’t need her. Jenna pushed her shoulders back and stood straighter.

  He froze, the glass at his lips, his brow furrowing in a dark scowl. ‘What do you mean?’

  Jenna sipped her wine, cool and delicious on her dry throat. ‘I lost my job at the Villa Bellini when you acquired it. Now I’m being moved to another hotel, in Milan.’

  ‘Milan!’ Fabrizio’s eyebrows disappeared into the black hair flopping over his brow. ‘You’re joking.’

  ‘No joke, Fabrizio, it’s my job. And a good one too. Signor De Laurentis is pleased with my work and this is a great opportunity.’

  It was true, this would broaden her skills and look terrific on her résumé.

  She didn’t mention how torn she felt about leaving Fabrizio. She had no illusions that he’d come to Milan with her. He was Roman born and bred. Apart from the impossibility of him leaving his business, he’d stated more than once that living outside the capital was unbearable for more than a weekend retreat.

  ‘It won’t be forever. I don’t want to work long term in a big hotel where everyone is that bit more anonymous. I prefer the smaller, exclusive venues, like Villa Bellini, where it’s all about personalised service and a unique experience.’ That was where her dream lay. One day she aimed to run her own hotel.

  ‘Give up the job.’ He snapped his fingers. ‘You don’t need it. Haven’t I offered more than once to support you?’

  The liquid heat in her belly solidified, curdling into bitterness.

  ‘I won’t take your money and live off you, Fabrizio.’

  His frown became a glower but she merely tilted her chin higher. He might have an ancient lineage and pots of money but she had her pride.

  ‘I only want to help.’

  ‘You want me available.’

  ‘Basta!’ His glass slammed down on a table, bright droplets spilling to the floor. ‘You’re being deliberately difficult.’

  Jenna walked to the ornate fireplace and put down her glass. With her damp hands, she might just drop the priceless crystal.

  ‘It doesn’t matter, Fabrizio. It’s academic. I’m not giving up my career to become your live-in lover. My work is too important to me.’

  ‘You’re so obstinate!’ He stalked towards her.

  ‘And you’re single-minded.’ She jammed her hands on her hips, refusing to be intimidated as he stopped close enough to loom over her.

  She’d given up her life for him once and look what it had got her – nothing except hurt and shame.

  His eyes narrowed to a calculating scrutiny. Then, slowly, he smiled and her foolish heart tumbled.

  ‘It’s just as well I have the answer. There’s an opening in one of my own hotels that would be perfect for you. In Rome. Not far from here.’ His gesture took in the grand salon and the rest of his luxurious home.

  He looked so like a cat eyeing a tasty bowl of cream that Jenna regarded him cautiously.

  ‘When did this happen?’

  ‘Recently. Very recently, which is why I didn’t mention it before.’

  ‘And what is the position?’

  His shoulders rose in an easy shrug. ‘It’s a management role.’

  ‘Manager? Assistant Manager?’ When he didn’t immediately respond she continued, ‘Functions Manager? What?’

  Fabrizio’s mouth compressed. ‘You can hear all about it when you report for work. My staff will fill you in.’

  Jenna would bet her bottom dollar his staff knew nothing about any such vacancy. If he’d had a position for her he’d have mentioned it earlier. She knew he hated the fact she worked for Luca De Laurentis, even if Fabrizio no longer believed she spied for him.

  ‘How do you know I can do it?’

  ‘Sorry?’ He stiffened.

  ‘How do you know I have the appropriate qualifications?’

  Fabrizio spread his hands, palms out. ‘You ran the Villa Bellini, didn’t you?’

  ‘For a short time only. But you’ve never so much as seen my résumé.’ He knew she’d worked in hotels, and that she’d come to Italy for an internship at a hotel in Venice that had finished the day before they’d met. Yet, Fabrizio had never questioned her qualifications. He’d never been that interested in her professional skills.

  That knowledge jabbed a rod of steel through her spine.

  ‘There is no job, is there?’

  He waved his hand. ‘Of course there is. I’m the CEO. If I want you to work in my hotel, you’ll work there.’

  Jenna shook her head. ‘What about the staff who are already there? How will they feel about having me come in over the top of them? Especially to a job that’s been created just for me?’

  He didn’t deny it. Jenna put out her hand to the mantelpiece and clung tightly as an invisible blow weakened her knees.

  Part of her had actually hoped his offer was genuine. That he respected her enough to have her work in a real job because she was good at what she did.

  She swallowed hard as bile rose in her throat. It was no use pretending. This could lead nowhere. Her relationship with Fabrizio was a dead end. She’d known it all along but hadn’t been able to cut herself loose from him.

  It was past time she set herself free.

  ‘You can’t see past your own convenience, can you? That’s all that matters to you, Fabrizio. Making the world suit you.’ Jenna drew a fortifying breath.

  ‘Unfair!’ His hand sl
ashed through the air. ‘We’re amazing together. Don’t lie and tell me you don’t enjoy being with me, Jenna. It’s there in your eyes.’ His voice dropped to a husky murmur that did terrible things to her concentration.

  ‘It’s there in the way you turn into my caress whenever I touch you.’ He palmed her cheek and her eyes flickered shut at the sheer pleasure of that skin-to-skin contact. ‘It’s there when you kiss me.’

  Jenna felt his breath on her lips and snapped her eyes open, turning her head and sidestepping just as he bent to kiss her.

  ‘This is nonsense, Jenna. I want you. I’m not ashamed of it. Is it so awful that I want to keep you here?’

  Her mouth wobbled and she bit her bottom lip, horrified at the welling emotion that threatened to reduce her to a quivering wreck. She would not break down in front of him.

  ‘Not awful for you,’ she croaked out in a voice not her own. ‘But it is for me. I’m ashamed of what I’d become if I agreed.’ Jenna blinked gritty eyes and turned her head, meeting his stare straight on.

  ‘Scusi?’ He looked utterly uncomprehending. ‘What are you talking about?’

  Her mouth firmed. ‘You know exactly what I’m talking about, Fabrizio. I’ve got too much pride to become your paid mistress. Once was enough. I don’t ever want to go there again.’

  ‘I never paid you. You wouldn’t accept anything from me.’ If anything he looked furious that she’d rejected his cash and expensive gifts of jewellery.

  She shook her head. ‘Except a roof over my head, meals, clothes, hospitality. I let you pay my way for the months we were together. I lived off you.’

  He threw up his arms. ‘We were lovers, Jenna. What did you expect? That I’d charge you rent for sharing my bed? Be reasonable.’

  ‘I’m not the one being unreasonable, Fabrizio. You ask too much of me. You ask me to give up my self-respect.’

  He stared at her as if he’d never seen her before. ‘You say being my lover degrades you?’ He drew himself up to his full, imposing height, making her more than ever aware of his potent strength. ‘You insult me.’