Luc’s mouth quirked. ‘That would no longer be true if you married me. Then you would become Anna de Salvatore.’ Strange how right that sounded.
She gave a rueful shake of her head. ‘Being a Balfour is a state of mind, not just a name,’ she told him.
‘Not all of your sisters are considered wild and unruly,’ Luc pointed out.
Annie gave a short laugh. ‘I’m sure they would be thrilled to hear it!’
His eyes narrowed. ‘It was merely an observation, not a personal opinion.’
Annie glared at him. ‘I may have become one of those wilder Balfour sisters if I hadn’t had Oliver to think of.’
Luc’s nostrils flared. ‘Believe me, I need no reminder that my behaviour changed the course of your life.’
Maybe not, but Annie certainly did!
In fact, she needed every defence she could dredge up in order to fight against the sensual spell Luc’s close proximity was weaving around her already battered emotions.
‘Don’t do that!’ she muttered achingly as Luc raised a hand and ran his thumb across her slightly parted lips.
‘Why not?’ he asked. ‘Does your physical attraction to me bother you?’
‘Does your physical attraction to me bother you?’ she came back challengingly.
‘At this moment?’ he considered gruffly. ‘No.’
Annie groaned as the softness of his thumb once again swept across the sensitivity of her bottom lip before dipping into the moist heat beneath. ‘Luc!’
‘Annie?’ he replied hoarsely even as his head lowered and his lips replaced that caressing thumb.
No man should possess such a wickedly sensual mouth. Or hands that felt so deliciously hot as they cupped her bottom to pull her in tight against his hard body. A hard body that moulded so perfectly to her softness that she could already feel the pulsing heat of his arousal…
An arousal that was all the more heady to Annie’s already inflamed senses because it was Luca de Salvatore, and not Luc, who felt it. A man well-known for his cold ruthlessness, both in business and his personal relationships.
Luc was anything but cold at this moment, his mouth hot and demandning against Annie’s, the sweep of his tongue parting her lips even further to thrust into the warm cavern beneath. He instinctively deepened that kiss as Annie’s hands moved caressningly across the hardness of his chest before her fingers reached up and clasped his shoulders.
His mouth devoured, beckoned, drawing her tongue into a duel with his, those hard thrusts enticing Annie into returning the caress.
Luc growled low in his throat as he felt that first tentative response, and then captured her tongue inside his mouth before she could withdraw it, needing to take her into him, and to be a part of her.
He moved one of his hands to support the back of her head as their kisses became wilder, more demandning, his fingers becoming entangled in that chestnut-coloured richness as his lips and tongue continued to taste her. His other hand moved to skim lightly over the flatness of her stomach, ribs and finally against the underside of her breast.
Annie wrenched her mouth from Luc’s to purr low in her throat as he repeated that caress, feeling her breast swell and harden beneath his touch, her nipples becoming twin aching point of pleasure. Of aching, decadent need…
Her neck arched instinctively as Luc’s clever mouth sought out the hollows of her throat, the movement thrusting her breasts forward. Annie groaned, burning hotly between her thighs as Luc’s hand cupped a breast to capture one aching nipple between his thumb and finger, squeezing lightly, pleasurably.
She moved restlessly against Luc in an effort to ease that pulsing ache, rubbing rhythmically against the hardness of his erection as it throbbed and swelled with the same need. She was pulled even closer still as Luc hooked a hand beneath her denim-clad knee to raise her leg and lift her up into him so that the full thrust of his arousal touched the sensitive place between her thighs.
But it wasn’t enough. Would never be enough. Annie needed, oh, God, she needed—
‘Tell me what you want!’ Luc rasped gruffly against Annie’s throat. ‘Tell me, Annie!’ he demanded as she continued to move restlessly against him.
Until Luc answered her Annie hadn’t even been aware that she had spoken out loud! ‘I—’ She broke off in a gasp as one of Luc’s hands cupped her between her legs.
She needed Luc inside her. Deep, deep inside her, until she had no idea where she ended and Luc began…
‘Tell me, Annie!’ Luc insisted again as he looked down at her fiercely, the palm of his hand moving rhythmically against her as he felt her heat through the material of her jeans. ‘Say it, Annie. Tell me what you need.’
She moistened lips swollen from his kisses, those blue eyes slightly dazed as she looked up at him. ‘I want—’ She cried low in her throat as Luc pressed harder, deeper, between her thighs even as he lowered his head and placed his lips about the hard tip of her breast, drawing that fullness into the heated wetness of his mouth, his tongue rasping, his teeth gently biting. ‘Oh!’ she gasped weakly.
‘Say it!’ Luc demanded relentlessly.
‘You’re driving me crazy, Luc!’ she cried achingly, eyes fever bright with need.
Luc pressed his fingers into her. ‘Tell me you want me, Annie. Say it!’ he said hoarsely.
‘I—’ She whim pered her longing as Luc ceased his caresses. ‘Don’t stop, Luc. For God’s sake, don’t stop…’
His eyes blazed as he cupped his hands beneath her bottom and lifted her completely off the floor. Her hands clung to his shoulders, her legs curved around his waist, as he carried her to the sofa.
Annie found herself looking down at Luc as he sat, her legs straddling his thighs, and her knees on the cushions of the sofa on either side of him. This position pressed his hardness even more intimately against that aching throb between her legs.
The darkness of Luc’s gaze held hers captive as he peeled her T-shirt up and over the fullness of her breasts, his gaze becoming even hungrier as he looked down at those soft and creamy swells tipped with nipples that were swollen and rose coloured.
Annie felt the heat course through her body as Luc continued to look at her breasts, tongue flicking across his lips, moistening them, causing her breasts to tingle even more as she quivered in anticipation of feeling those lips against her bared flesh.
She watched, fascinated, as Luc slowly lowered his head, the warmth of his breath moving lightly over her even as his tongue rasped briefly—too briefly!—against one aching nipple.
Annie arched into that caress as Luc’s mouth continued that slow leisurely torture of her breast before transferring his attention to its twin. ‘Don’t tease me!’ she groaned, her hands moving up, fingers becoming entangled in the dark thickness of Luc’s hair as she pulled him harder against her, that groan turning to an aching moan as Luc took her deeply into the heat of his mouth and his fingers moved to the fastening on her jeans before sliding down beneath the lace of her panties.
Annie almost sobbed with pleasure as she undulated against the skilful fingers that found and then caressed the swollen nub nestled there. Those caresses becoming faster, harder, as Annie rushed towards a climax so fierce, so mind-numbingly glorious, that when it finally came to an end she could only collapse weakly against Luc’s shoulder as she fought for breath.
Luc’s own breathing was deep and ragged as he held her against him, satisfied for the moment with the knowledge that he had given Annie pleasure. He didn’t need to know that pleasure himself when he could still feel how she trembled and quivered so delightfully in his arms.
Annie obviously had other ideas as she moved to sit up and pull up his polo shirt, sitting back slightly as she rolled the shirt up his body and over his head before casting it aside. Her concentration was total as the slenderness of her hands touched his much darker flesh; her fingers caressed the muscled hardness, manicured nails scraping teasingly across the hardened nubs nestled amongst the light dusting
of dark hair that covered Luc’s chest.
Luc sucked his breath in sharply when those fingers moved lower still, unfastening the button on his own jeans, Annie’s gaze boldly holding his now as she moved off him to kneel on the cushion beside him. She slowly slid the zip down, pushing his jeans and black boxers aside before curling her fingers about his throbbing hardness.
Luc groaned as he allowed his head to fall back against the sofa, eyes closed as he revelled in the sensation of having Annie’s fingers wrapped around him. Fingers that slowly moved along the swollen length of him, from base to tip, causing him to harden even further.
Annie was emboldened, empowered, as she felt as well as saw this physical evidence of the depth of Luc’s arousal. Her gaze held his once again as her fingers curled firmly about him before she lowered her head and took him into the heat of her mouth.
She saw his eyes widen even as he tensed beneath the unexpected intimacy and his hands moved to grip her shoulders tightly, with the obvious intention of pushing her away from him.
Annie refused to budge, shrugging off those restraining hands as she paused to lick along the length of him before once again sucking him deeply into her mouth.
He tasted as sweet and warm as honey, of hot pleasure and even hotter sex, the urgent increasing thrum beneath her mouth and fingers telling her how close Luc was to release. She drew him in deeper still as Luc’s hands became entangled in her hair, no longer pushing her away but holding her in place as he couldn’t seem to stop himself from thrusting into the heated wetness of her mouth.
Luc felt his normal control slipping, evaporating, as he found himself aware only of Annie, of the caress of her lips, tongue and fingers as they moved against his hard and fevered flesh.
He became rock hard as he felt himself poised on the very edge of release—and how he wanted, craved, that release! But—
‘No!’ Luc’s fingers tightened in Annie’s hair and he carefully pulled her up and away from him before standing. He moved right across the room, his back turned towards her as he refastened his jeans, and then ran a hand through the dark thickness of his hair as he drew deep, controlling breaths into his starved and aching lungs.
Annie sat back on her heels to look across at Luc dazedly, too stunned for several seconds to understand, let alone accept, that Luc had brought an end to their lovemaking.
Arousing Luc had made her ache all over again. Everywhere. And seconds ago Luc had ached and throbbed with that same need.
The uncompromising rigidity of the muscled back and shoulders he kept turned firmly towards her told her that was no longer the case.
Minutes ago Annie had almost ripped Luc’s polo shirt from his body in her burning need to touch him, to feel the heat of his naked skin beneath her caressing hands. All of his heat.
Her cheeks flamed as she remembered how she had hurriedly unfastened Luc’s jeans in her need to touch him more intimately still. To taste him.
To touch and taste Luca de Salvatore intimately!
Dear heaven above, what had she just done…?
CHAPTER SEVEN
LUC was disgusted with himself as he kept his back firmly turned towards Annie.
It had been his intention to kiss her, to touch her, in order to show her they were still physically attracted to each other, if nothing else.
Instead Luc had only succeeded in proving that Anna Balfour was a danger to the rigid self-control he had exerted over his emotions—all his emotions—for the past four years.
If he needed food, then he ate. If he required liquid, then he drank. And if he needed physical release, then he took a woman to his bed. Coldly. Calculatedly.
The pleasure he had just received in kissing and touching Annie, in having her kiss and touch him in return, had not been in the least cold or calculated. Instead she had reached him, pierced the armour he kept about his emotions, driven him to an excess of physical pleasure, in a way no other woman had for years. Since Luc had last made love to her, in fact!
He drew in several harsh, controlling breaths before turning to face her, his jaw tightening as he took in the evidence of their lovemaking in the tousled wildness of her hair and the swollen fullness of her lips. Lips that minutes ago had been wrapped around—
‘Do you still dismiss those “compensations" so hastily?’ he asked as he picked up his polo shirt and pulled it back over the nakedness of his torso.
Annie was glad she had taken advantage of Luc’s few minutes of distraction to straighten her own clothing as she saw the hardness of his expression and those dark, uncompromising eyes.
‘What can I say, Luc—you’re still an accomplished lover.’ She shrugged. ‘No doubt you’ve had plenty of opportunities to practise your technique over the years.’
His jaw tightened at the deliberate insult. ‘As have you,’ he pointed out coldly.
Annie almost laughed at the ridiculousness of that accusation when she hadn’t so much as thought about a man in that way since Luc. Except there was nothing in the least funny about this situation.
To say that she was stunned by her response to him was an understatement!
Just as the way she had touched him, caressed him, had been purely instinctive. Annie had no other experience on which to draw except that time with him more than four years ago.
Luc frowned fiercely. ‘Do you have someone in your life at the moment?’
Only Luc himself! ‘Do you?’ She evaded the question by slamming it straight back at him.
‘I have…the occasional woman in my bed,’ he revealed slowly. ‘But not recently,’ he added tightly.
‘OK, comparing past or present lovers isn’t conducive to this conversation.’ Not when Annie had felt a shaft of jealousy course through her at Luc’s admission.
‘There will be no other lovers for either of us once you are my wife—’
‘Are you hearing impaired, Luc?’ Annie cut in sharply as she stood. ‘I’ve told you numerous times now that I’m not going to be your wife.’
‘You have another solution to this situation?’
Her solution was that Luc disappear out of her life as completely as he had re-entered it! A solution he had Unfortunately already rejected.
‘None that seem to be acceptable to you, no. But—’
‘There can be no buts, Anna,’ Luc growled. ‘Either we marry or we commence a legal battle over Oliver. A battle that will no doubt become a very public one, considering who we are. After the recent scandal concerning the illegitimacy of one of your sisters, how do you think your father will react to a custody battle over his grandson?’ he added challengingly.
Annie gave a pained gasp. ‘You bastard!’
‘On the contrary, my own legitimacy has never been in question,’ Luc drawled.
She glared at him. ‘Only your son’s!’
Luc’s eyes glittered as black as coal. ‘Yes.’
Annie frowned her frustration. A month ago she would have had no hesitation in telling Luc to do his worst. Before the scandal at the Balfour Charity Ball. Before, as Luc so rightly pointed out, the legitimacy of one of Oscar’s own daughters had been brought into question.
Could the timing of this have been any worse?
She clenched her fists in utter frustration. ‘We’re going round and round in ever-decreasing circles with this conversation, Luc.’
His mouth firmed. ‘That will cease once you stop fighting the inevitable.’
‘There’s nothing in the least inevitable about your demand that I marry you!’ Annie exclaimed. ‘No?’
Was it really inevitable that she agree to marry Luc? He seemed to think that it was.
So what if he did think that? Damn it, she may be one of the less aggressive Balfour sisters, but she was still a Balfour, and as such she did not intend allowing anyone to bully her into doing something she didn’t want to do.
‘Our union promises to be a stormy one,’ Luc murmured ruefully as Annie’s expression easily gave away her thoughts. The doubts,
quickly followed by a renewed determination more than equal to his own forceful nature.
Her eyes flashed a deep, sapphire blue. ‘If you succeed in forcing me to marry you, Luc, then I promise you I will make it my ambition to ensure that your own life becomes a living hell!’
Luc had no doubts that they would have disagreements once they were married. But his very nature demanded that he could never be content with a woman who simply bowed to his dictates, and Annie Balfour had already shown that she had no intention of doing that.
He smiled wickedly. ‘I will look forward to seeing you try.’
‘I wouldn’t if I were you,’ she warned.
Luc gave an unconcerned shrug. ‘So we are in agreement, then, that our marriage—’
‘We are in agreement on nothing!’ Annie interrupted hotly. ‘And until we are, I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to meet Oliver—’
‘Agreed.’
‘—and upset him with this…this dissention between the two of us. It will only confuse him—’
‘I said I agree, Annie.’
‘—and that can’t be good for any of us. What did you say?’ Annie looked across at him in confusion.
‘I said I agree, Annie,’ he repeated patiently. ‘It is not my intention to confuse or upset Oliver either.’
‘Oh.’ Annie felt a little like a deflated balloon. ‘So we’re agreed that I will go back to England on Monday, somehow try to explain the situation to Oliver, and then—’
‘No, that is not what I said at all.’ Luc gave a brief smile.
She sighed. ‘You aren’t making any sense, Luc.’
‘I believe, if you listen closely to what I am saying, you will find I am making complete sense,’ Luc assured her drily. ‘Neither of us will return to England to be with Oliver until the situation between us has been resolved.’
Much as Luc longed to see Oliver, to see his son for the first time, he appreciated that to do so while he and Annie were still at logger heads over their future would not be beneficial to any of them. Least of all Oliver.
Annie and the Red-Hot Italian Page 8
