Rome's Revenge

by Sara Craven

  Then, when the union of their bodies was complete, he held her for a long moment, giving her time to accustom herself to this new sensation. Waiting…

  Her hands touched his shoulders, revelling in their hard muscularity. Her fingers stroked the dark silky hair at the nape of his neck. She placed her hands flat against his chest, feeling the hammer of his heartbeat, revealingly unsteady, against her palms.

  Her finger brushed his lips and he captured it, biting gently at the soft flesh.

  Then, gently but deliberately, Cory began to move under him, and he matched her, taking her rhythm, letting her dictate the pace. Carefully reining back his own need for release for her pleasure.

  Her body rose and fell, answering his measured thrusts. Glorying in them.

  He kissed her mouth, his tongue hot and demanding against hers, then the arch of her neck, and the small eager breasts, suckling the hard pink nipples, making her moan in her throat, her head turning restlessly on the pillow.

  He was murmuring to her against her flesh, his voice slurred and heavy.

  Nothing existed for her in the universe but this man, in her bed, in her arms, in her body. She buried her face against him, breathing him, wanting to be absorbed into him.

  His hand slipped down between them to the moist centre of her, softly and sensually caressing, and she felt the first quiver of rapture rippling like water across her being.

  She lifted her legs, clasping them round his lean hips, her hands clinging to his shoulders as Rome began to drive more deeply, more powerfully, inciting her, drawing her on.

  She said something—sobbed something that might have been his name—and found herself overtaken, her body imploding, fragmenting into ecstasy.

  She cried out wildly, eyes blind, all her senses consumed by pleasure, and he answered her, his body juddering dangerously in his own climax.

  Afterwards, when the world had steadied to a semblance of reality, they were very quiet together, lying close, kissing softly.

  She said wonderingly, ‘I thought I was dying.’

  ‘They call it the little death.’ There was a smile in his voice. ‘Do you want me to prove that you’re still very much alive?’

  She looked at him demurely from under her lashes. ‘You think you could?’

  ‘Not at this moment, perhaps.’ He grinned at her lazily. ‘But soon.’

  She was silent for a moment. ‘Rome—is it—always like that?’

  ‘It was like it for us,’ he said. ‘Isn’t that all that matters?’

  ‘Yes.’ Her voice was quiet. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘For what?’

  ‘For the lessons—all of them.’ She forced a smile. ‘I think I’ve just undergone a crash course. And I’ll always be grateful.’

  He propped himself on an elbow and looked down at her. He said slowly, ‘What we had just now was beautiful, and sensational, and totally mutual—as you must know. So gratitude doesn’t enter into it.’

  She played with the embroidered edge of the sheet. ‘But it’s not the same for you. It can’t be. You can’t possibly pretend it was your first time…’

  He took her hand and carried it to his lips. He said, ‘It was my first time with you, Cory. And you blew my mind. And if you’ve got it into your head that I made love to you out of sympathy, I have to tell you I’m not that altruistic.’

  She said, not looking at him, ‘Would you have made love to me if I hadn’t told you about Rob?’

  ‘You hadn’t told me about Rob when we walked home from Alessandro’s—and I could barely keep my hands off you.’ His voice was cool and considering. ‘Nor at Blundham House this afternoon. We went up in flames together, Cory, and you know it. We could fight it as much as we liked, but it was really only a matter of time before we ended up in bed with each other.’

  He paused. ‘But, in the interests of frankness, I’ll admit I wanted to make it good for you so that it would drive that poisonous bastard out of your mind, once and for all.’ He framed her face with his hands, speaking very distinctly. ‘He can’t damage you any more, carissima, do you understand? He’s gone—finished with—so forget him.’

  He dropped a kiss on her nose. ‘Are you hungry?’

  A gurgle of laughter welled up inside her. She said, ‘That’s quite a change of subject.’

  ‘Not really,’ he said. ‘Because I no longer have to fight to keep my hands off you, and the time is fast approaching when it won’t be enough for me to simply look at you and talk to you.’

  He kissed her mouth softly and sensuously.

  ‘We have a long night ahead of us, mia bella,’ he whispered, ‘and we need to keep our strength up. So—I’ll ask you again—are you hungry?’

  And, to her own astonishment, she was.

  Rome ordered smoked salmon sandwiches and champagne from Room Service, and she ate and drank, propped up on pillows in the crook of his arm, and knew she had never felt so happy or so much at peace.

  The awkward girl, she told herself, had given way to a woman with her own sexual power.

  And then, like a frost to blacken her mood, came another thought.

  How in the world, she asked herself with anguish, was she ever going to live without him?

  He said, ‘You’re very quiet.’

  Cory started slightly, banishing the unhappy reverie that she’d conjured up some five minutes before. She said lightly, ‘Just conserving my energy.’

  Rome took her chin between thumb and forefinger and tilted her face so he could look into her eyes. ‘Truly?’

  ‘Of course,’ she lied. ‘Try me.’

  His face was solemn, but his eyes were dancing. ‘Mia cara, I thought you would never ask. Just let me get rid of these plates.’

  When he came back, his expression was oddly brooding, as if he too had been having unpleasant thoughts.

  She said, ‘Is something wrong?’

  ‘I hope not.’ He sat on the edge of the bed, studying her. ‘But I don’t know.’ He was silent for a moment, then said abruptly, ‘Cory, mia—are you on the Pill?’

  ‘The Pill,’ she repeated wonderingly, then grasped the implication. ‘Oh.’ She swallowed. ‘No—no, I’m not. I—I never have been.’

  ‘That,’ Rome said grimly, ‘is what I was afraid of.’ He shook his head. ‘Dear God, how stupid—how irresponsible can I be?’

  She put a hand out to him. ‘It’s not your fault. I’m just as much to blame. I wasn’t thinking…’

  ‘Nor was I,’ he said. ‘But I should have been.’ His tone was bitter with self-reproach. ‘I should have taken care of you.’

  She watched him in silence for a few moments. She said, her voice quiet, ‘Would it matter so much—if it happened? If I was—pregnant?’

  He said roughly, ‘Cory—you’re not a child. You know it would.’

  She’d hoped for comfort, and instead there was pain. He was telling her, she realised, that they had no future together. That sex, however wonderful, was not enough to make a lasting relationship—and a baby would just be an unwanted, indeed an impossible complication.

  And you, she thought, are all kinds of a fool to have hoped for anything different.

  She found herself praying that she hadn’t given herself away too seriously, and wondering, at the same time, what she could do to retrieve the situation.

  One thing she was sure of. If this was all she was to have of Rome, then she would make it memorable—for both of them.

  She lay back against the pillows and smiled at him composedly. She said, ‘If the horse is gone, there’s little point in worrying about the stable door—is there? So why don’t we do as we planned and—enjoy the rest of the night?’

  He groaned. ‘Carissima—be sensible.’

  She said softly, ‘Oh, it’s much too late for that.’ She let the sheet fall away from her breasts. She heard the small sound he made in his throat, and her smile deepened. ‘Besides—I’m getting impatient…’

  Hours—perhaps aeons—later, she lay
beside him as the early-morning light began to penetrate the room and watched him sleep. His breathing was deep and peaceful, his skin dark against the white bedlinen.

  He deserved his rest, she thought, colour warming her face as she remembered how one act of love had seemed to flow naturally into the next. As she recalled the things he’d said to her—the things he’d done.

  Their bodies had moved together with such harmony, she thought. There’d been laughter too, and, once, tears.

  And now it was over.

  Moving carefully, she slid out of bed, collected her clothing and went to the bathroom.

  She looked in on him again before she left. He was still sleeping, but he’d moved into the space she’d vacated as if unconsciously seeking her.

  The porter was not on duty when she went down to the foyer, but there was a friendly girl at the reception desk, who told Cory the nearest station with a direct link to London, looked up the time of the next train, and ordered her a taxi to take her there.

  ‘There’s no need to disturb my husband,’ Cory said calmly. ‘He’s planning to spend the day locally—do some walking. But unfortunately I have to get back.’

  ‘Oh, that’s a shame,’ the other woman sympathised. ‘Particularly as it looks like being a nice day. I hope you’ll stay with us again some time.’

  Cory made herself smile. ‘Some time—perhaps.’

  But she knew in her heart she could never come back. That it would be too painful to relive, even at a distance, the crazy beauty of this night, with its tenderness and its savagery.

  Now she had to go away, and try to forget.

  The journey back was a nightmare. Because it was Sunday, there were engineering works taking place, and the train crawled along in between long pauses in the middle of nowhere.

  It was mid-afternoon before she arrived back in London, and took a cab to her flat.

  She would change, she thought, and do some food-shopping. Or perhaps even book a table at the neighbourhood French bistro, because it might be better to be with other people.

  She paid off the cab and turned towards her door. And stopped, a sudden prickle of awareness edging into her consciousness.

  She turned nervously, and saw him walking up the street towards her.

  For a moment they stood facing each other. Cory bit her lip, expecting anger—recriminations.

  But all he said, quite gently, was, ‘Why did you run away?’

  ‘Perhaps because I hate saying goodbye.’

  ‘Then don’t say it. Unlock your door and invite me in, and listen to what I have to say.’

  ‘There’s no need to say anything.’ Bravely Cory lifted her chin. She thought, Don’t apologise. Oh, please don’t tell me you’re sorry, because that I couldn’t bear. ‘It happened,’ she went on, ‘and it was wonderful, and now it’s over. And we both get on with our own lives.’

  Rome shook his head. ‘It’s not that simple, Cory.’

  ‘If you’re still thinking there might be a baby, it’s my problem and I’ll deal with it.’ She gave him a travesty of her usual smile. ‘There’ll be no paternity suit. I won’t ask you for anything.’

  ‘I wasn’t thinking that,’ he said slowly. ‘Of all the many thoughts I had on that hellish, lonely drive back, the prospect of becoming a father didn’t even feature. Not that I’m against it in principle,’ he added. ‘But I feel it would be better for us to have some time just with each other before starting a family.’

  She stared at him, her eyes enormous. She said, ‘I think one of us must be going mad. What are you talking about?’

  He sighed. ‘I hadn’t planned on doing this in the street,’ he said, ‘but I’m asking you to marry me, Cory. To be my wife. Will you?’

  CHAPTER TEN

  SHE said, ‘I still can’t believe this is happening. We—we’ve only just met…’

  Rome pulled her further into his arms. ‘If we’re strangers,’ he murmured. ‘I don’t think I’d survive being a close friend.’

  They’d almost fallen into the flat on a wave of joy and laughter that had turned in seconds into a passion that would not be denied. He’d lifted her into his arms and carried her into the bedroom, mouths clinging, hands already beginning to tear at zips and buttons.

  Now they lay sated and relaxed in each other’s arms.

  ‘Anyway,’ he added softly, ‘I think that in some way we’ve always known each other. Always been waiting to meet.’

  She sighed. ‘Then I’m glad I went to that charity ball. I didn’t want to, you know.’

  ‘Nor did I.’ There was an odd note in his voice.

  ‘And then we kept bumping into each other.’ Cory giggled. ‘Quite literally at times. I should have known it was fate.’

  Rome was silent for a moment. Then he said, ‘Cory, can I ask you to do something for me? Something a little strange which I can’t explain just now.’

  ‘How mysterious you sound.’ She planted a row of tiny kisses on his throat. ‘What is it?’

  He hesitated again. ‘I don’t want you to tell anyone about us—at least not for a while.’

  Cory looked up at him, her eyes wide with bewilderment. ‘You mean—not even Gramps? But he’ll be so happy for us, Rome. It’s been his dearest wish for me to meet someone and fall in love. And I want the two men in my life to like each other. It’s important to me.’

  He said, ‘It matters to me, too. But I have my reasons, even if I can’t tell you what they are.’ He grimaced slightly. ‘And your grandfather may not be as delighted as you think. I’m no great catch for his only granddaughter.’

  Cory was silent for a moment. ‘Gramps is quite old-fashioned,’ she said at last. ‘I think he’d like it if you formally asked his permission.’

  ‘I plan to,’ he said. ‘But we have to wait for a little while. Will you do that for me?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘You know I will.’ She gave a wondering laugh. ‘Love at first sight, and now a secret engagement. This is all a dream, and soon I’m going to wake up. I know I am.’

  ‘Don’t say that, Cory.’ His voice was suddenly harsh. ‘Don’t even think it.’

  She looked up at him in surprise. ‘Rome—are you all right?’

  ‘Yes.’ He kissed her, his mouth tender on hers. ‘For the first time in my life, I believe I am.’

  ‘And you really can’t share this mystery with me?’

  ‘Soon,’ he said. ‘I promise. I have some things to sort out first.’

  ‘But I might be able to help.’

  ‘I’m afraid you can’t, mia cara.’ His voice was regretful. ‘Not this time.’

  Her answering smile was faintly troubled. ‘I understand.’

  Only, she wasn’t sure that she did. Only an hour ago she’d stood on the pavement, locked in Rome’s arms, oblivious to everything but the joy opening inside her like a flower. The certainty that this was where she belonged.

  She wanted to shout her happiness from the rooftops. But she couldn’t. In fact, she couldn’t tell a single soul. And she didn’t know why.

  She was aware that Shelley would say instantly that this was one mystery too many, and demand an immediate explanation before committing herself. That this was the reasonable—the rational course.

  But I love him, she thought. And somehow reason and rationality don’t seem so important any more.

  There were so many things she wanted to ask him, so many gaps in her knowledge, but she supposed she would just have to be patient—and trust him.

  He began to kiss her again, his fingers warm and arousing on her breast, and all doubts and vague uncertainties slid away as she turned to him, rapturous and yielding.

  Later they had dinner at the bistro, and then watched an old film on television.

  Cory had taken it for granted that Rome would be spending the night with her, but to her disappointment he told her he was going back to his own flat.

  ‘I’m going away on business for a day or two,’ he said. ‘I need to pack and
make an early start.’

  ‘Must you go?’ She couldn’t disguise the sudden desolation in her voice.

  He pulled her closer. ‘The sooner I go, the sooner I’ll be back,’ he reminded her.

  ‘I suppose so,’ She paused. ‘What’s your flat like?’

  She was hoping he’d say, Come back with me, and help me pack.

  Instead, he shrugged. ‘Dull—impersonal. Rather like a hotel room. You’d hate it.’

  ‘I’ve nothing against hotel rooms.’ Cory sent him a mischievous look. ‘On the contrary. But if you really dislike it, you don’t have to stay there.’ She paused. ‘You could always move in here.’

  ‘Except that would blow our secret to smithereens,’ Rome said drily. ‘Besides, if you find out too soon that I snore and leave my clothes all over the floor, you might change your mind about marrying me. It’s wiser to stay as we are.’

  ‘Who cares about wisdom?’

  ‘I think it’s time one of us did,’ he said wryly. ‘We haven’t been very sensible so far.’

  ‘And now you’re walking out on me.’ She made it jokey, to hide the little pang of hurt. ‘And I can’t even comfort myself by talking about you.’

  He framed her face in his hands, looking at her with heart-stopping tenderness. ‘When we’re married,’ he said, ‘you won’t be able to get rid of me, and that’s a guarantee.’

  ‘I know I’m being really stupid.’ She sighed. ‘But I don’t want to lose you. It’s just too soon. I need to have you all to myself for a while.’

  ‘You’re not losing me,’ Rome said steadily, ‘because I’m taking you with me—in my heart, my mind and my soul. And when I come back you’ll have the rest of my life—if you want it.’

  She pulled him down to her. ‘You think there’s some doubt?’ she whispered against his lips.

  Yes, Rome thought, as he let himself into his flat. There was a chasm—an abyss of doubt.

  More than once over the past forty-eight hours he’d come within a hair’s breadth of telling her everything.

  And perhaps, in the end, that was the only way to cut himself out of this maze of deceit he was enmeshed in.