by Anna Cleary
Alessandro began an absent-minded, gentle stroking motion along her leg. It might have been comforting, if it hadn’t been so arousing. She struggled with herself to pull away, but her limbs were still heavy with the intoxication of the kiss.
‘Perhaps,’ she said, panting a little, hardly daring to meet his eyes for fear of alerting him to what his supple fingers were absent-mindedly doing, and breaking the fabulous connection, ‘perhaps we could have-dessert at your hotel.’
He didn’t smile, exactly, but satisfaction settled into the lines of his sensuous, chiselled mouth.
She was so grateful for long linen tablecloths. More places should have them, she thought. Especially when, to her absolute shameless pleasure, his fingers slipped under her dress and to the inside of her leg, and traversed her silky stocking all the way to the top.
‘Although,’ he said, holding his menu in his other hand to peruse, ‘it says here that they have wild strawberries with dark drizzling chocolate. Couldn’t we enjoy drizzling our wild strawberries with chocolate?’
That bare skin at the top of her stockings was even silkier than the stocking, and Alessandro’s fingers seemed to know that and adapt accordingly. Absent or not, his very fingertips acquired a magic touch that roused her skin cells to heights of delight, inside her thigh, nearly all the way up to the elastic edge of her pants.
Inside the flimsy fabric, skin cells yearned in burning anticipation for their turn at the magic fingers. How high would those clever, artful fingers go?
She noticed a slight beading of sweat appear on Alessandro’s upper lip.
‘Oh, oh, perhaps…’ She managed to sit perfectly still, though she parted her thighs a little further to give greater access and her breathing started to come in short quick gasps. With her breasts rising and falling like an abducted maiden’s in a sheikh film, her voice had a husky, breathless quality, brought about by trembling, pleasurable suspense. ‘Perhaps strawberries in sauce can be a little messy. With-the strawberries being so-so juicy, and all…’
‘Oh, no, carissima,’ he said in his most velvet voice, gazing at her with grave assurance. ‘I am sure nothing-well, hardly anything-could be tastier. What’s a little juice?’
Hypnotised, she felt his soft fingers trail across the fabric of her pants, every subtle stroke delivering shock waves of delicious, tingling pleasure to the yearning delta beneath.
‘Sorry, what was that you said?’ He was teasing her, wicked laughter in his eyes, knowing her difficulty in speaking while swooning with the forbidden ecstasy.
‘Oh,’ she gasped, ‘I mean, yes, yes, Alessandro, Alessandro…’
The waiter hovered into view, to her intense regret, and Alessandro swiftly removed his sinful hand, leaving her in a severely aroused and unresolved state while attempting to appear like a model citizen, and not to pant.
The boy stood by their table once more, and Alessandro smiled charmingly at him and said, ‘You know, I don’t think we’ll stay for dessert after all.’
Outside in the small foyer as she buttoned up her coat, Alessandro said, ‘The taxi shouldn’t be long.’
‘Can’t we just walk? I don’t want to stay here another second.’
‘Oh.’ He looked rueful. ‘And I thought you were enjoying yourself.’ She glowered at him, and he added, ‘I don’t want you to get cold. I was shocked by how thin that dress is. I could feel everything through it, every curve, every little hill and valley.’
She said repressively, ‘I need to be cold.’
He laughed, and she pushed open the street door and threw him a stern glance.
‘Are you coming?’
Outside, her face registered the blessed chill, but despite her brisk tone there was a bubbly exhilaration in her blood that had an insulating effect against the night air. It had been so long since she’d been seduced by a gorgeously sexy man with smiling eyes and no morals. Still, did that mean she should allow herself to plunge enthusiastically back into being his wanton plaything?
A shameless part of her was almost inclined to think it did. Having gone so far…with nothing resolved…
For God’s sake, though, even if he didn’t, she had principles, and responsibilities, and loyalties that came first. And then there was the time element. It was well after nine, and she needed to be home early enough for her mother to make her hospital shift.
Despite the chill night there were people strolling around the streets, gangs of tourists taking snaps of each other, spilling from the crowded cafés. Didn’t Sydney people ever stay at home?
She shouldn’t, she knew, lose sight of the fact that she’d aged. Twenty-one was a million years from twenty-seven, in terms of smoothness, slenderness and muscle tone. Certainly she was still slim, but it was a different sort of slim at twenty-seven. It was the slimness achieved from washing, cleaning, ironing, bending to pick up toys, staying constantly alert to the whereabouts of a small dynamo, and running, running, running.
Would he notice the difference?
She walked quickly, his long stride keeping easy pace with hers. Their words hung in the air in little drifts of vapour. She made an earnest attempt to chat about neutral, non-inflammatory things-the unusually hard winter, the boutiques and lighted shop windows they passed, occasional alluring little laneways and their fascinating old houses. She even seized one promising moment when they passed a children’s bookshop for some deep probing into his attitudes about early childhood education, but instead of looking at the books, his dark sensual gaze remained on her.
In fact, it would be true to say that every conversational gambit she tried evoked an amused glance from Alessandro, while inside she was a turbulent sea of indecision.
With every second that passed she could sense the deepening vibration of sexual inevitability. Every shimmering glance from his dark eyes reflected the fever she felt churning through her own veins. That kiss and its sexy little aftermath had started a fire that could turn into a forest blaze at any tick of the clock. And if her recent compliance was anything to go by, she was unlikely to have much power of resistance.
She’d resolved not to go to his room, and where was she headed at this very moment, if not the suite at the Seasons? Perhaps, if he didn’t touch her, she’d cool down and summon up the resistance to catch the train home.
After a few minutes he said, ‘Slow down a little, carissa. Enjoy the crisp night.’
She shrugged and slowed her steps. Smiling, he held out his hand to her and what was she to do? It would have taken a stronger woman than her to resist the invitation in those dark eyes. She allowed him to clasp her hand in his strong grasp. She might have been weak, but it felt so pleasant, that electric connection with his warm, hard palm, as if she were all at once tuned into the cosmos after being buried for an eternity in some black hole in outer space.
Still, she needed to make some attempt at reason before she let herself be consumed by the whirlpool.
She cast him a reproving glance. ‘You know, you behaved shockingly in that restaurant.’
‘I know.’ He looked contrite. ‘You’re right. I was a disgrace. I should apologise to the restaurant.’
Unconvinced by his humility, she said sternly, ‘It was such a risk. I can hardly believe it happened.’ She shook her head in despair. ‘You’ve done some reckless things, Sandro, but that’s the most wicked I ever remember you being.’
His edged his brows pensively together, then he met her gaze, a gleam in his dark eyes. ‘No, tesoro. No, I would say that I can be more wicked than that.’
She gasped, scandalised. ‘In a restaurant?’
He shrugged. ‘Anywhere, truthfully. A restaurant, a church. If I have Lara Meadows beside me, there are no limits to the wickedness I can be inspired to.’
‘Oh, you.’ She gave his arm a punch, and after a moment of walking in a silence that clamoured with Alessandro’s unspoken laughter she bit her lip and tried again. ‘You know, I did say this wouldn’t be a date.’ Even to her own ears her prote
st sounded feeble.
He smiled. ‘You did, I know.’
‘So-so why did you-you know, kiss me like that? And then there was last night…That was just an outrage. If the P &C committee ever found out what I’d done in that schoolyard…’
‘What’s the P &C Committee?’
‘Parents and interested Citizens. If they had any idea…’ She shuddered, picturing the public outcry.
He slowed to a halt under a street lamp, and took her other hand as well. ‘You know why I do these things. I am a man. What else am I to do? You’re so beautiful, your lips are so luscious…’ His voice thickened. ‘And you belong to me…’
‘Oh. Oh, well…’ She was stirred to her bone marrow, and her voice went all wobbly and husky. ‘You know what Holly Golightly said. People can’t belong to people. And it’s-no excuse. You can’t just kiss everyone you like the look of. I told you this would be a meeting.’
‘A lovers’ meeting.’ His warm, sure grip firmed on her hands and she felt pleasure flow in her veins like wine. ‘We’re lovers, aren’t we?’
‘Were. We were lovers.’
‘We will always be lovers, Larissa.’ He said it with such seriousness, she had to believe he meant it. He took her shoulders. ‘And I don’t want to kiss everyone I like the look of.’ Whether it was the effect of the wine, or the after-effects of the restaurant, his voice deepened with a sincerity she couldn’t deny, and his eyes glowed with an ardent light. ‘Only you. Always, always, I want to kiss you.’
Her heart seized, then lurched into a rapid, bumpy rhythm.
She gripped his arms. ‘Oh, Alessandro,’ she said, breathless and trembling with emotion, ‘I wish-I wish I could believe that.’
‘Believe it,’ he said firmly, pulling her close and kissing her with a conviction that set her veins ablaze and made her erotic regions tingle with longing.
‘Hurry,’ he said, desire in his eyes, urgency in his voice. ‘Let’s walk fast.’
The last remaining blocks were like a dream of life the way it could have been, floating along the pavements of old Sydney, hand in hand with her lover, reckless and wild, hunger in her veins.
He ushered her through the Seasons entrance and across the lobby. At the lifts, she flashed him a smile and murmured, ‘Déjà-vu.’
The ride up to the thirtieth floor was silent, the air drumming with desire, her thudding heartbeat, and magic visions of the past. She might have been racked with desire, but odd thoughts still crept up on her as he stood beside her in the pulsing silence. One of them being if she’d known this was going to happen, she’d have put in some serious work at a gym.
And another one. What about when he saw her scar? How would he react? And then there were the traces left by her pregnancy and a year of breastfeeding. Her nipples weren’t exactly the same sweet pink raspberries he’d adored.
For God’s sake, would she remember what to do?
Alessandro unlocked his door and stood aside for her. At once the room’s atmosphere rushed to meet her.
Ah. The suite.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
IT WASN’T exactly the same, of course. Lara supposed it must have been refurbished over the years, because once she was through the foyer, she saw that the colours seemed different in the glow of the lamps, warmer and more vibrant. In fact, the windows were not in the position she remembered either, so perhaps it wasn’t the same suite. But the feeling was the same.
And the bed. That low, wide, sleek bed. The covers had been turned down, the pillows fluffed up. So enticing. So-sexual.
Her heart pounded with a nervy, excited rhythm.
Alessandro slipped off his jacket, sending her an assessing glance. ‘Would you like anything? Some wine?’
Lara shook her head. ‘No. No, thanks. Could we dim the lights a bit, do you think?’
His brows twitched but he barely hesitated. ‘Of course.’
In fact the room was already quite softly lit, but he switched off all the lamps, except for one by the bed. Then he dragged the counterpane from the bed and tossed it onto a chair, strolled across and parted the curtains a little, then walked back to her, pulling off his tie and loosening his collar.
Her pulse thundered in her ears. He stood before her, so straight and tall and darkly gorgeous, his eyes all at once so serious and compelling, the shadows in her heart were swamped by emotion. She could feel the electric tension in him, the fierce current that connected him to her at a deep, primitive level.
It all felt so familiar. How many times had she been at this point with him before? And apart from that first unforgettable time, what had followed from this moment had always flowed as naturally and as free of inhibition as the rhythm of life. But it had all been less complicated then. Though tonight…Undeniably, the same dark, smouldering current was there, pulling her to him as powerfully as the sun.
His dark eyes glowed beneath lids that were heavy and slumberous. He slid his thumb across her cheekbone as if she were some exotic beauty. ‘I have longed to be with you again.’
He spoke with such intensity, the words wrapped in his beautiful, deep accent, she felt her insides curl up as though licked by fire.
‘Have you?’ she breathed. ‘Me too.’ Her voice sounded husky with the intense emotion overflowing in her heart. ‘I’ve never, never stopped thinking of you.’
He reached for the top button on her coat, his quick supple fingers sliding from one to the next, and she felt cooler air flood in as the coat fell to the floor.
How crazy she’d been, how ridiculous to have felt nervous. Once she was trapped in his scorching hot gaze, the desire already smouldering in her blood blew through her like a desert wind, and another Lara, the wild, primitive Lara, took over.
The moment their lips touched, the fire in her sprang to blazing life. His kiss was hot and sexual, and she responded with all she had, aroused by the sensual delights of lip and tongue in sexy collision, relishing his urgent hands curving around her breasts, moulding the undulations of waist and hip, caressing her inflamed nipples.
Starved of sensation for so long, her skin burned for contact. She pressed herself to his hard angular frame, purring at the graze of his long, muscled thighs against hers, while the secret tissues between her legs flamed. Her greedy hands became possessed of their own convulsive life, lusting to enjoy him to the max, to clutch at his black silky hair, smooth the nape of his strong neck, knead his powerful shoulders.
As one kiss dissolved to the next, each deeper and more searching than the last, everything about him-his feel and taste, his strong, sure touch-all felt so achingly familiar, so beloved, and so much hers.
In the past he’d been gentle and considerate, his fierce male dominance tempered by tenderness. Tonight, though gentle enough, he was uncompromising, hard and firm and confident, and there was no holding back her instinctive response. With every part of her so hot and aroused, an explosive cocktail of excitement and emotion coursing through her veins, this could be no polite engagement. The heavy beat of passion seethed in her blood and flamed for immediate assuagement.
As though in tune with her urgency Alessandro broke the kiss to trail hot, searing kisses down her neck, slipping his hand under her hair to seek the zip on her dress. She raised her hands in an attempt to take charge of that herself, but he caught them and held them still.
‘I’ll do this,’ he bit out, his deep voice a husky growl.
Then he tugged down the zip and ruthlessly pulled the dress to her waist himself, the flame in his eyes flaring as her breasts were revealed, swelling from the lacy black bra.
He bent his head to scorch them with his lips, the faint roughness of his jaw on her tender skin sending wild quivers of pleasure radiating through her heated flesh.
‘Oh,’ she gasped, her knees liquefying. ‘Oh.’
Then through the black lace of her bra, his mouth closed over one of her nipples. With a provocative playfulness he teased each aching peak, until her lust roared through her like a for
est blaze and she yearned for her skin to be exposed.
‘Quickly,’ she gasped.
Unable to wait for the niceties of gently escalating foreplay, she felt galvanised by a breathless haste to be naked. She dragged down her dress and stepped out of it, unfastened her bra and whipped down her pants, kicking them aside to stand there nude except for her stay-up stockings.
With a wild animal growl Alessandro seized her breasts in his hands and bent his head to kiss them. She moaned, then, as if riding the same desperate whirlwind as she, he dragged his shirt loose and began tearing at the buttons, his lustful gaze mesmerised by the silky blonde triangle at the juncture of her thighs. She tried to help him, her clumsy fingers colliding with his in their haste.
His shirt fell open, revealing his wide, bronzed chest, adorned by sexy whorls of black hair that arrowed down beneath his belt.
For an instant, she paused, the heavy erotic beat in her blood tinged with emotion at the sight of his raw, remembered beauty. Then with a small involuntary cry she bent to kiss his olive satin skin, as scorchingly hot as her own.
With an insatiable thirst to reclaim what was hers, she caressed the strongly defined muscles of his chest with sensual hands and lips, traced the ridges of his ribs, relished the hard-packed muscle of his abdomen.
She reached for his belt buckle at the same time as he, her urgency intermingled with responding to his wild kisses and increasingly fierce caresses, until their frenzied hands released the fastenings and he dragged off the rest of his clothes.
He stood before her, naked, and she felt an involuntary moistening between her thighs as the majestic length and thickness of his proud erection set her juices flowing in tingling expectation. But hardly giving her a moment to take in the full impact of his sleek, raw beauty, the power and heart-stopping grace of his long limbs, Alessandro pushed her onto the bed and threw himself down beside her.
She lay there, burning for the relief of his lean angular body in friction with hers, to feel his body hair brushing her breasts and legs, but first he leaned up on his elbow and reached for a package on the bedside table.
