by Kate Hewitt
The song ended and another started, and still they kept dancing. He pulled her closer, so her body nestled into his. She came willingly, twining her arms around his neck, her breasts brushing his chest. Her head was slightly bowed, so he could see the delicate, vulnerable curve of her neck and he had the nearly irresistible urge to press his lips there, against the skin he knew would be warm and soft and silky.
They twirled around again, and she shifted in his arms, the material of her dress rustling and sliding, pulling taut across her breasts, revealing the pure line of her collarbone. He could press his lips there too.
He could do it, and in the haze of his desire, as well as his exhaustion and the champagne he had drunk, he couldn’t remember a single reason not to.
The music swelled and the world around him fell away. There was nothing but this. Her. They turned again, her dress flaring out from her ankles, brushing his legs.
Some last, desperate part of him tried to claw back his sanity, his sense. This was a bad idea. A terrible, terrible idea. Mia James worked for him, and he never mixed business with pleasure. Ever. It was far too dangerous. The last thing he needed was a woman at work laying claim to any part of him, or, heaven forbid, accusing him of something.
But there was nothing accusatory in the way Mia was melting into him, her body pliant and willing in his arms. Then she lifted her head, tilting her face upwards, her gaze clashing and then tangling with his.
It felt as if they shared an entire conversation in that silent gaze, a shared yearning and a deeper need, a question and an answer, all encapsulated in a single, burning glance.
Neither of them said a word, but Alessandro felt a shudder run through her as he held her in his arms. The last part of his sanity trickled away. He didn’t care.
He didn’t care.
‘Let’s go,’ he said, his voice rough with need.
‘Where?’ Even with her in his arms, he strained to hear her breathy whisper.
‘Anywhere.’
Her eyes widened, her lips parting. She swallowed, and he waited for her answer, the one she’d already given in the silent yearning of her gaze. The song ended, and their bodies stilled. Still Alessandro waited, his breath held, his body taut.
Then wordlessly, her eyes wide, Mia nodded.
Alessandro didn’t wait for more. Taking her by the hand, he led her from the dance floor and out of the ballroom, out of the hotel, into the warm spring night.
CHAPTER FOUR
THE COOL NIGHT air felt like a slap on her face as Mia left the hotel, Alessandro clasping her hand tightly. It felt like an urgent and much-needed wake-up call.
What on earth was she doing?
What madness had possessed her up there in the ballroom, with the music and the champagne and the slow sway of Alessandro’s body in rhythm with hers?
A limousine pulled up to the kerb; Alessandro must have texted his driver while she’d been in this heady daze of desire, a fog that had wrapped her up in its sensuous, blinding warmth, making her immune to everything, including her own common sense. Wordlessly he opened the door and ushered her into the sumptuous leather interior.
Mia slid to the far side of the limo, shivering slightly in the still cool air, despite the sudden blast of warmth from the heater. Now that she was no longer in Alessandro’s arms, in that strange, suspended, otherworldly reality...she realised there was no way she could go anywhere or do anything with Alessandro Costa. No matter how she felt. No matter what she’d wanted.
Already she cursed herself for having danced with him at all, swaying in his arms, moving closer, falling under his sensual spell.
What had she been thinking? He was her boss, and not a particularly pleasant boss at that, even if she now questioned whether he was as ruthless as he’d been rumoured to be.
Even so, getting involved with him in any capacity would be a serious, serious mistake, and one she had never intended on making with anyone. She sneaked a glance at his harsh profile, wondering what he was thinking, now that they were away from the ball, the music and champagne. Was he having second thoughts as she was? Regrets?
‘Where...?’ Her voice came out scratchy and she licked her lips. ‘Where are we going?’
‘Back to the office.’ Alessandro spoke tersely, and when he turned to her there was something hard and resolute in his face, and his eyes looked dark and flat. Looking at him, taking in that unyielding expression, Mia felt chilled. Clearly he was having second thoughts as well, a thought that should bring sweet, sweet relief, but instead she felt disappointed.
Stupid, stupid.
They rode in silence to the Dillard building in Mayfair, the night a blur of dark sky and city lights all around them. The air in the back of the limo felt taut with tension, and Mia let out a quiet sigh of relief when the limo finally pulled up in front of the office.
‘I need to get my things,’ she murmured. She’d left her work clothes, coat, and handbag at the office, an oversight she hadn’t even considered when she’d been dazzled by being the belle of the ball. The party was well and truly over now, the clock striking midnight, everything turning back to the way it was. There seemed to be no question of their going anywhere together, as Alessandro had hinted at the ball. All Mia wanted to do was go home.
‘I need to get my things as well,’ Alessandro replied. ‘I’ll let you go up, and the limo can drive you home.’
‘There’s no need...’ Mia began half-heartedly, feeling she should take the tube as a matter of principle, and after giving her a hard look, Alessandro shrugged, supremely indifferent.
‘As you like.’
He swiped his key card and ushered her inside the building, everything now cloaked in darkness and quiet. Mia had been in the office late at night before, when she’d had to work longer hours for one reason or another, but it felt different now, with Alessandro walking right behind her, and gooseflesh rippling over her skin at the knowledge of him being so close.
The lift had never felt so small or suffocating as they rode up in a silence taut not with expectation but the sudden, unsettling lack of it. Then the doors swished open and they stepped onto the top floor of the building, where Henry’s office was located. Mia walked through the dim open-plan space, lit only by the streetlights outside, thankful that this ordeal was almost over.
She’d come so close to losing her mind and heaven knew what else over this man. She could consider herself lucky, she told herself, even if she didn’t feel all that lucky right then.
‘I left my things in Henry’s—I mean your—office,’ she said, and Alessandro merely nodded as he opened the door and ushered her through. He flicked on a table lamp, bathing the room in warm light, while Mia hurriedly hunted for her bag and discarded clothes. She hesitated, knowing she didn’t want to brave the tube home at ten o’clock at night in a floor-length evening gown.
‘Do you mind if I change...?’
Another hard, fathomless look, another shrug. ‘As you like.’ He left the office, and Mia let out another sigh of relief and pent-up tension as the door closed behind him. Her head still felt fuzzy from the champagne, even though the main part of her was stone-cold sober, longing only to be curled up in her bed with a comforting mug of hot chocolate, this whole evening behind her.
Her fingers fumbled as she unclasped the diamond necklace that now felt heavy and cold around her neck. Carefully she replaced it in the black velvet box the stylist had brandished so proudly just a few short hours ago. It felt like another lifetime. Had she really danced with Alessandro? Flirted with him? Felt she had a connection with him, that something important and intimate had pulsed between them when she’d told him she didn’t know who he was? And then she’d twined her arms around his neck and told him she’d go anywhere with him. She’d even believed it.
Her breath came out in a shuddery rush as she acknowledged the folly of her actions. Sh
e had done all those things and more, and all she could do now was thank heaven that it hadn’t gone any further, and that Alessandro at least seemed to have had the same second thoughts she had.
The best-case scenario now was that they would both pretend to forget everything that had—and hadn’t—happened. And really, she told herself, it wasn’t as if they’d actually done anything. They hadn’t even kissed.
But she’d wanted to...
Forcing those pointless, treacherous thoughts away, Mia took off the diamond earrings and put them back as well. Then her heels, silver diamanté-decorated stilettos, and her sheer tights, bundling up the tights and putting the shoes back in the box. Now the dress.
She reached behind her to unzip the dress, her fingertips brushing the top of the zipper but unable to pull it down. Mia groaned under her breath, nearly wrenching her arm out of its socket as she tried again, desperately, to unzip her gown. No luck. She couldn’t do it on her own. And she couldn’t go on the tube in this. She was going to have to ask Alessandro to help her, a prospect that filled her with dread as well as a tiny, treacherous flicker of excitement she chose to ignore.
Alessandro rapped sharply on the door. ‘Are you nearly ready?’
‘Yes.’ Her voice wavered and she took a deep breath before going to the door and opening it. Alessandro stood there, frowning at the sight of her.
‘You haven’t changed.’ He sounded disapproving.
‘I know. I can’t manage the zip of the dress.’ She met his gaze even though it took effort. ‘Do you mind helping me?’
‘With the zip?’
Why did he sound so surprised, so scandalised? ‘Yes,’ Mia answered, and then, pointlessly, ‘I’m sorry.’
Wordlessly Alessandro nodded and stepped into the room. Mia took another deep breath as she silently turned around, showing him the zip that ran from the nape of her neck to the small of her back.
Moonlight poured through the windows, bathing everything in silver, as for a hushed moment neither of them moved. A tendril of hair had fallen from her chignon and Alessandro moved it from her neck, making her shudder.
She hadn’t meant to, heaven knew, she hadn’t, but the response rippled through her all the same, visceral and consuming, and more importantly audible.
What was it about this man that made her respond this way? She never had before, not even close. Her romantic and sexual experience was basically nil, and that by her choice. Perhaps that was why she was reacting the way she was now, because she had nothing to compare it to.
And yet Mia knew it wasn’t that. It was the man. The man whose sandalwood aftershave she breathed in, making her senses reel. The man who was now tugging the zipper down her back, slowly, so achingly slowly, inch by tempting, traitorous, lovely inch. Tug. Tug. Mia held her breath as Alessandro’s breath fanned her neck, and then her bare back as the dress began to fall away, leaving her skin exposed.
The air was cool on her bared back, but Alessandro’s breath was warm. Mia tensed, trying to keep herself from shuddering again, but she failed, a ripple of longing trembling over her skin and right through her. She knew Alessandro saw and heard it, felt it even.
And she felt his response in the sudden stilling of his fingers on the small of her back, the zip almost all the way undone. Still he didn’t move, and Mia didn’t either.
The world felt stilled, suspended; everything a hushed, held breath as they both remained where they were, waiting. Mia knew she should step away, just as she knew she wouldn’t. Couldn’t. In fact, she did the opposite, her body betraying her as she swayed slightly towards him.
Slowly, so slowly, Alessandro leaned forward. His breath fanned Mia’s already heated skin as his lips brushed against the knob of her spine and he pressed a lingering kiss to the nape of her neck.
* * *
He hadn’t meant to do it. Of course he hadn’t. Alessandro didn’t know what madness had claimed him as he leaned forward and kissed the back of Mia’s neck. Everything about the moment felt exquisitely sensual, as if a honeyed drug was stealing through his veins, obliterating all rational thought, everything but this. Her.
And he didn’t even care.
He felt Mia’s instant and overwhelming response, her body shuddering again under his touch, and he moved his lips lower, kissing each knob of her spine in turn, letting his lips linger on her silky skin.
The moonlight turned her ivory skin to lambent silver; she was pale, a perfect goddess, like an ancient marble statue, the paragon of classical beauty. He continued to kiss his way down her spine, feeling Mia tremble beneath his feather-light touch. Then he reached the base of her spine and he fell to his knees, anchoring her hips with his hands, as he kissed the small of her back, a place he hadn’t even considered sensual or enflaming until this moment, when it was, utterly.
‘Alessandro...’ The name was drawn from her lips in a desperate plea as the unzipped gown slid from her hips and pooled around her feet, leaving her completely bare. She started to turn and Alessandro rose, pulling her into his arms as his mouth came down hard and hungry and demanding on hers. She responded to the kiss with a frenzied passion of her own as they stumbled backward together, lips locked, hands roving greedily, until they hit Henry Dillard’s desk.
Alessandro hoisted her on top of it, stepping between her thighs, as he deepened the kiss. He couldn’t get enough of her. He didn’t want to. All he wanted was more—more of this, and more of her.
He broke the kiss only to kiss her elsewhere, wanting to claim all her body for his own—her small, high breasts, her tiny waist, her endless legs. Mia’s head fell back, her breath coming in desperate pants, as Alessandro explored every inch of her and still felt as if he hadn’t had enough, a thirst and craving welling up inside him that could never be slaked.
He ran his hand from the delicate bones of her ankle up her calf, along her inner thigh, before his fingers found the heart of her and she tensed under his touch, her breath hitching as he deftly stroked her.
‘Alessandro...’ Another plea, and one he answered with his sure caress.
But even that wasn’t enough; it wasn’t enough when she surrendered entirely to his touch, her voice a broken, shuddering cry. He needed to possess her fully, to make her his own.
Still, one last shred of sanity made him hesitate. ‘Mia, are you sure...?’ His voice was low, ragged, but certain. He had to know that she wanted this as much as he did.
Her eyes fluttered open, the look in them both dazed and sated as she nodded, her pulse hammering in her throat. ‘Yes,’ she whispered. ‘Yes.’
Alessandro needed no further encouragement. He spread her thighs wider as he fumbled with his own clothes. Then seconds, but what felt like an eternity, later he thrust inside her, groaning with the pleasure of it.
Mia let out a startled gasp and Alessandro stilled, shock drenching him in icy waves. ‘Mia...’ He could barely believe what had just happened. ‘Mia, are you...’ he could barely manage to say the words ‘...a virgin?’
She let out a choked laugh, her fingernails digging into his shoulders as she anchored him in place. ‘I was.’
Alessandro swore. ‘You...’ He bit off what he’d been going to say.
You should have told me. I should have known. I never would have...
He’d asked, after all. He’d asked her if she was sure. Now, his body aching and still thundering with need, he started to withdraw.
‘No. Don’t.’ Mia clutched his shoulders as she wriggled into position underneath him. ‘I’m all right.’ She shifted again, her body opening beneath him, inviting him in further, and as Alessandro felt her welcoming warmth he knew he was a lost man. He started to move, and Mia gave a breathy sigh of pleasure as she started to match his rhythm.
The regret and uncertainty he’d felt fell away like a mist as they moved together, climbing higher and higher, until they both reache
d that dazzling apex, and Alessandro let out a shudder of sated pleasure as he pulled her even closer to him, her body wrapping around and enfolding his. He could feel her heart thudding against his own, and he knew he’d never been as close to another person as this.
Seconds ticked by and neither of them spoke or moved. Alessandro had the strange and unsettling feeling that he didn’t want to move; he didn’t want this to end. He had never, ever felt that way before after being with a woman.
Yet of course he had to, and so did Mia, and after another few soul-shaking seconds she started to pull away. Alessandro let her go, tidying himself up as Mia eased off the desk. Her head was bent, her face averted as she walked quickly to her clothes and pulled them on. Alessandro saw that her fingers trembled as she buttoned the now crumpled white blouse he’d admired earlier that day, in what felt like a lifetime ago.
Alessandro knew he should say something, but he had no idea what. Now that the haze of incredible pleasure was no longer clouding his mind, he was realising what an enormous, idiotic mistake he’d just made. Mia James was his PA, and he’d had her on his desk like a...like a...
No. He could barely believe this had happened. This never happened to him, because he never let it. He was too self-controlled, too contained, too certain of what he wanted, to let something as stupid as desire cloud his mind and guide his actions, even for a few seconds.
And yet that was precisely what had just happened. He could scarcely credit it, and yet it had. It had.
Mia had finished dressing and she stood there, her handbag clutched to her chest, her hair in tangles about her pale face, her eyes wide and dazed.
‘I should go.’ Her voice was a whisper, and guilty regret lashed him like a whip, which made him, unreasonably he knew, feel angry.
