by Joan Kilby
His pants became painfully tight. If this kept up he would go “kaboom” as she put it before they made it through the appetizers. “Absolutely. I could…talk…for hours.”
The waiter came back with the wine. Luke knew all the right things to do, swirling and examining the color, sniffing the scent and finally letting a sip roll around in his mouth. It wasn’t craft beer but it was pretty damn good just the same. He nodded his approval and the wine was poured.
Luke clinked glasses with Tina. “Salute.”
Her glorious smile lit her face at his knowing the Italian for “cheers.” “Now, where were we?”
He leaned back in his chair but let his ankle rub against hers beneath the table. He needed to settle down, pace himself. Sex with a woman as beautiful and interesting as Tina, like a fabulous meal, deserved to savored. “I believe we were…conversing.”
Chapter Four
“Bellissimo.” Tina stepped into Luke’s living room, immediately charmed by the warm green walls, comfortable leather furniture and polished wood coffee and end tables. Mood lighting filled the room with a soft glow and piano music tinkled from unseen speakers. “Very cozy.”
“Cozy?” Luke laughed. “I don’t like to brag but twenty-four hundred square feet is a mansion in New York terms.”
She wondered what he would make of her half-acre villa in Rome or her four-story house in the heart of Paris. Luckily he had no idea. “I only meant that despite how large and grand this room, you’ve managed to make it warm and comfortable.”
“Thanks, I like it.” He moved into the kitchen. “Wine? Beer? Champagne?”
“Champagne, grazie—” Tina broke off, her eye caught by the painting over the fireplace. “My God, can it be?” She moved to examine more closely the painting of a young boy in a dark forest and to check the signature. Her hand went to her cheek and she shook her head in awe. “It is.”
“Is what?” Luke asked. In the kitchen a cork popped.
“A Hurstbridge. I had no idea there was a second one. Do you know there’s a matching painting of a young girl, also in the woods?”
She knew because she owned the other painting, bought last year when she’d come to New York to find a location for her boutique. It was an amazing coincidence. She had to bite her lip to stop herself from telling Luke about her painting. He would never believe a sales assistant could buy such expensive artwork.
“I had no idea.” He handed her a glass of sparkling wine and stood close, his arm brushing her shoulder. “Are the paintings similar?”
“Very.” She sipped her champagne. Mm, Dom, nice. Luke had good taste. “Same woods, same brooding atmosphere. The artist evokes so much emotion.”
“I picked this up at an auction in SoHo a few years back. At first glance, I thought it was full of foreboding and sadness. Why is the boy all alone? Is he safe? Where are his parents? Then I looked at it a while longer and it seemed more like he’s on a quest. Where is he going? Will he get there before darkness falls? Is he traveling to meet someone?”
“Sì!” She touched his arm, excited that he had the same reaction as she did. “At first you think, poor bambino. And then you look closer and get the sense he has a purpose. A mission.”
“Exactly. See the shaft of light in the upper right hand corner? I like to think that represents hope.” Luke put his arm around her neck and pointed to a faint gleam coming from a source outside the frame. His cheek was almost touching hers. “Which way is the girl walking? Same direction?”
“No, she faces the opposite direction.” Tina turned to him with a brilliant smile. “Maybe they’re traveling through the woods toward each other.”
“It sounds as if the pictures are meant to belong together,” Luke said. “Where did you see the girl painting? I’d like to buy it.”
“I… In a gallery somewhere. I can’t remember.” Oh dear, this line of conversation could get awkward. She glanced around, searching for a change of topic, and picked up the first thing at hand from the mantelpiece, a trophy. “What’s this for?”
“I coach hockey for disabled kids. My nephew Timmy is on the team. He…” Luke paused, cleared his throat and went on. “He was crazy excited last year when we won the division final and got this trophy. Meant so much to him, and all the kids.”
“It sounds like it means a lot to you too.”
“Most important thing I’ve ever done,” he said gruffly. “When my sister Stella asked me to teach Timmy to play hockey the poor kid hardly had any friends, very little exercise and almost no fun. Now he’s like a different kid, always joking around.”
“You’ve done something very special for those children,” Tina said.
“In many ways, coaching has helped me as much as I’ve helped the kids, keeping me in touch with the sport I love. But it’s not about me. The kids have come out of their shells. Hockey gives them something to focus on besides their disabilities. A goal to strive for. It boosts their self-esteem and improves their general health. Don’t know what they—or I—will do if we have to give it up.”
Tina touched his arm. “Why would you have to? I don’t understand.”
“Oh, it’s nothing, just a cash flow problem threatening the program. I’ve got some fundraising ideas on the go. It’ll all work out.” Casually he took the trophy from her and replaced it on the mantelpiece, but the lines between his eyebrows had deepened.
Clearly it wasn’t “nothing.” And even though the words “cash flow problem” were enough to set the alarm bells clanging in her head, she couldn’t ignore children in need. Or that this was about Luke’s family. “What can I can do to help?”
He touched her cheek. “It’s good of you to offer, but I’ve got it under control.”
“At least let me know where I can make a donation.” It was on the tip of her tongue to ask if she could see the children play a game, but she pulled back. She and Luke weren’t in a relationship. For as intense as this strange attraction was, they’d only just met.
“When the collection site is in place, I’ll let you know.”
“Promise?” He nodded but naturally he wouldn’t believe her capable of making a large enough contribution to make a difference. It was frustrating not to be able to tell him who she was. She really should clear up the whole misunderstanding before it reached the point that admitting the truth would be too embarrassing.
But she wasn’t ready to let go of that sexy gleam in Luke’s eyes when he flirted with her. Telling him she was the head of a large fashion design house would change the way he acted around her, guaranteed. Fabio might be the only man who had used her so badly, but most people treated her differently because of her heritage.
“To get back to what we were talking about, you said you haven’t been in New York long,” he said, bringing them back to the previous topic. “So you must have seen the girl painting recently.”
“I really can’t remember where. I was just walking around. I don’t even know the area.” Was it her imagination or was he watching her closely? It was harder than she’d thought to pretend to be someone she wasn’t. But then, she wasn’t used to lying. To escape his scrutiny, she strolled away from the fireplace, sipping her drink.
Luke followed. “Champagne all right?”
“Dom is my favorite.” She spun to him and with her free hand, ran her fingertips along the collar of his shirt. She undid the top button. And the next. Beneath the fine cotton, his skin was warm and alive. She swayed closer, breathing in his aftershave, spicy and seductive. “You’re spoiling me.”
“Dom Perignon is your favorite champagne?” His eyebrows rose, and she could hear the wonder in his voice. “You’re full of surprises.”
She eased away again, kicking herself for being too distracted by his nearness to make up another, cheaper brand. Why did she have to name it at all? “At fashion week in Paris and Rome there is lots of free food and drink.” Only the elite inner circle drank the good stuff and she was usually the one supplying it, but he did
n’t need to know that. “I confess I’ve developed champagne tastes.”
Again, he closed the gap between them, reminding her of a big cat on the prowl. “Ah, finally we have your confession.”
She quirked an eyebrow at him over the rim of her flute. “And you didn’t even have to torture me to get it.”
“Damn. I was looking forward to that part.”
Tina laughed, her gaze tangling with his. He bent his head to kiss her temple, and she breathed his scent, basking in the warmth radiating from his body. Luke was as smart as he was attractive. She had to be on her toes. Between the sexual charge simmering between them and sidestepping his tricky questions, she felt more alive than she had for a long time.
In her life as Bettina Borlenghi, fashion industry maven, she couldn’t ever be completely herself, the person she was deep down. Being in the public eye, holding her own in the business world, dealing with predators like Fabio, had forced her to build a hard shell. Consequently it took a lot to touch her heart. Fabio had been the last straw, the final injury that made her realize something in her life needed to change. But how did she get back to who she really was? Did she even know that person anymore?
Here in Luke’s living room, she was starting to remember. Her blood fizzed with sparkling wine and his heated glances and she was just…Tina. This fling could be more than an opportunity for a sexual adventure. It was a chance to find out who she was again. To rediscover that sensual, free-spirited—trusting—woman she’d been before overwork, responsibility, and disappointment had sucked a lot of the joy from her life.
Luke clinked his glass with hers. “To honesty and transparency. There’s so little of it in this world. It’s refreshing to meet someone who is exactly what she seems.”
“An odd toast.” Tina sipped demurely, eyes averted. She was walking a tightrope. On the one hand, she wanted Luke to know her, the real her. On the other, she was terrified to peel back the layers in case he disliked what he found. “So you think I am exactly what I seem. Tell me, what is that?”
“I was being tongue in cheek. I think you’re a mass of contradictions.” He clasped her fingers and brought them to his lips as he held her gaze. “You seem more like someone who has assistants than someone who is an assistant. You’re too elegant, too independent, too assertive to be a sales assistant.”
“Oh? How many sales assistants are you intimately acquainted with?” She smiled when he remained silent and withdrew her hand. It was a risky game but oddly fun. “None, obviously. I thought so. You found me working in the boutique. What else would I be but a salesclerk?”
Smiling slightly as he studied her, he seemed to be enjoying the challenge, too. “You’re too curvy to be a model—”
Her chin came up on a spurt of defensive anger. “Are you saying I’m f—”
“I’m saying you’re gorgeous. Soft. Sexy.” Luke continued to regard her thoughtfully. “You could be a buyer….”
“What does it matter who I am?” She dropped her voice to a low purr. She needed to remind him—and herself—why they were here. Referencing her cowboy fantasy she tried to distract him. “Maybe I’m a dancing girl in a saloon, and you’ve come upstairs so we can get better acquainted.”
“I certainly hope we will.” He slipped an arm around her waist and nuzzled her neck, speaking in her ear. “But you’re a puzzle. I’ve never met anyone like you.”
Her eyelids drooped at his warm breath on her neck. Every inch of her was alive and burning beneath his touch. “Don’t try to solve me. Let’s just enjoy each other.”
“Trust me, our mutual pleasure is exactly what I’m aiming for.” His eyes darkened as his gaze dropped to the curve of her breasts. “But I’ve dated waitresses and socialites and all sorts of women in between. I can tell the difference between cheap and expensive perfume. Yours is as expensive as they come.”
“Duty free. An extravagance, I’m afraid.” The banter, the smoldering looks, the sizzling touches. No, she definitely didn’t want this fling to come to a crashing halt. She didn’t want the ruse to end. Maybe by pretending to be someone else, she could actually find herself…
She slid her hand down his chest to his abdomen. He sucked in a breath. Rock hard pecs and sculpted abs, the body of an athlete. Lower still, she palmed the large bulge in his pants. “Let’s cut to the chase.” She worked the supple leather of his belt out of the gold buckle. “Is that the correct idiom? Cut to the chase?”
“Are we talking cowboys and outlaws, or me chasing you around the four poster?” He trailed kisses behind her ear, his breath warm on the sensitive skin of her neck, and ran his fingers across her bare midriff, making her stomach muscles ripple in response.
“Oh, the four poster, definitely.” She undid his zipper and plunged her hand inside his boxers, curling her fingers around his thick erection. His shirt was completely open and his pants were a mere tug from coming down. She was burning up, dying to feel his body pressed against hers.
“Seems to me…” he murmured, tugging her top and bra down to expose her breast to his questing mouth. “The chase is over.”
Tina’s head fell back as she gave herself up to the sensation of his lips and tongue on her bare skin. His mouth and hands grazing her nipples. Heat spread through her. Jet lag dissipated as if by magic. The mild headache she’d fought, long forgotten. The anger, hurt, and resentment her dealings with Fabio and the public humiliation he’d subjected her to, even the good things—her family and her work and her friends in Rome—all fell away beneath Luke’s touch.
She needed him. She wanted him so badly. A man who, even if he had suspicions she wasn’t who she’d claimed to be, didn’t care who she was or what she did for a living. A man who saw her as a woman, period. It was a heady fantasy, more potent than cowboys or pirates or any other costume, to think their fling could be something real and lasting. But that was impossible, too much to wish for. At best, she would have a few nights of pleasure. Warm memories to wrap around her when she returned to her real life.
Tina pulled off her top and tossed it away, along with her wistful yearnings. Then she unzipped, shimmied her hips, and her skirt slid to a puddle on the hardwood floor. Her strapless bra bunched beneath her breasts, the demi-cups that he’d shoved aside creating even more décolletage. The matching G-string in red satin accentuated the full curves of her hips.
Luke’s eyes burned. Flashes of red rode on his high cheekbones as he stripped off his pants and shrugged out of his shirt. “Come here.” His voice was as rough and bumpy as a road through the Wild West. Now he was more outlaw than good guy, dangerous and exciting with his intense blue gaze, his broad shoulders and, yes, his huge cock. “I want you.”
With equal parts anticipation and apprehension, she stepped into his embrace. His arms closed around her, and he started to lift her. Instead, she wriggled back to the floor. “Let me taste you.” She pressed tiny kisses to his abdomen. Between each kiss she licked and then blew on his wet skin. “Do you like that, cowboy?”
“Don’t know if I’m shivering or burning up,” he said, his voice raw.
Tina ran cool fingers over the ridges and indentations in his abs, down the lines of his groin to his rock hard penis ridged with veins. The skin was like hot silk over steel. “You feel so good.”
Then her mouth closed over him. With a shudder, Luke speared his fingers through the thick dark mass of her hair and dragged her up. “I said, come here.”
Their tongues clashed and tangled in a frenzy of wet, open-mouthed kisses. His huge hands splayed across her body, touching as much of her as he could. She rubbed against him, trying to get closer still. He flicked the catch on her bra and tossed it away. Then he filled his palms with her breasts, his thumbs running across her nipples. Her eyes closed as he lowered his mouth to the rosy-brown peak of an erect nipple. He sucked and pulled and his cock dug into her belly. He shifted his leg until she was riding his thigh, pressing herself against his hard muscle, seeking ease from the throbbing
, aching need between her legs.
He pulled on her butt to bring her closer. His palms ran roughly over her cheeks and his fingers brushed down her crack beneath the slender band of fabric on her G-string.
“Get rid of it,” she panted and he gave a yank, the sound of tearing fabric mingled with their harsh breathing. He adjusted their positions, then his fingers penetrated her wet core while his tongue mimicked the thrusting motion.
“Oh, Luke. God.” She took him in her hand again, stroking up and down his shaft, squeezing, wanting him inside her. She was breathing hard and every cell in her body pulsed with a bright energy.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” Luke whispered, tracing the outside curve of her breast with the edge of his knuckle while his gaze devoured her. “I want to fuck you so hard.”
Her knees turned liquid. “Do it, do me. Fuck me now.”
He dropped to his knees, his hands sliding down the outside of her legs and back up her inner thighs, spreading her open for his mouth. Her legs trembled, and she braced her hands on his shoulders, palms curving around his muscles, flexing and contracting as he caressed and stroked her.
His tongue found her clitoris and the electric jolt almost lifted her off the ground. He circled and licked, flicking it with his tongue and sucking, driving her crazy. She sagged against him, head drooping as she struggled to hold back her orgasm.
“You taste so fine. Come for me, babe.” He inserted two clever fingers and probed the most sensitive spot just as he pressed down on her clit with his hot, moist tongue.
“Mio Dio. Tu sei caldo.” Her long moan of pleasure erupted into a stream of Italian. She pumped her hips into his face—and came and came and came. While she was still limp, he caught her up in his arms as if she was no more than a rag doll and carried her through the living room to a bedroom.
He laid her on a king-sized bed, the silky coverlet cool beneath her heated skin. She caught a glimpse of stars, their subtle glow shining through the vaulted skylight, before Luke loomed over her, his weight causing the bed to dip.
