“Get dressed. I’ll take you back to your room.”
Embarrassment warred with anger as her fingers curled into the fabric of a white T-shirt. “This will hardly do the job,” she said, turning to self-deprecation when what she really wanted to do was run back to her room and hide beneath the covers. Fat and mousy and weak.
“Put it on and I’ll get a robe from the closet.”
Lia snorted in spite of herself. “The walk of shame without the shame. How droll.”
He moved closer, his gaze sharpening again, and her heart pounded. “And is that what you want, Lia? Shame?”
Between the horrendous dress she’d had to wear while people stared and pointed, to the very public brush-off she’d had from Rosa, she’d had enough shame today to last her for a while.
Lia shrugged lightly, though inside she felt anything but light. She was wound tight, ready to scream, but she wouldn’t. Not until she was back in her room and could bury her face in the pillow first.
“A figure of speech,” she said. “Now turn around if you want me to put this on.”
He hesitated for a long moment. But then he did as she said, and she dropped the sheet and tugged the shirt into place. It was bigger than she’d thought, but she still had her doubts it would cover her bottom when she stood. She scooted to the edge of the bed and put her legs over the side.
She stood gingerly. Her head swam a little, but she was mostly fine. The shirt barely covered her bottom, but it managed.
“I’ll take that robe now,” she said imperiously.
Zach walked over to the closet and pulled out a white, fluffy Corretti Hotel robe. Then he turned and brought it back to her, his gaze unreadable as he handed it over. He did a good job of keeping his eyes locked on hers—
But then they dropped, skimming over her breasts—which tingled in response, the nipples tightening beneath his gaze—then farther down to the tops of her naked thighs, before snapping back to her face. His eyes glittered darkly, and a sharp feeling knifed into her.
If she were a brave woman, a more experienced woman, she’d close the distance between them and put her arms around his neck.
But she wasn’t, and she didn’t. She was just a silly virgin standing here in a man’s T-shirt and wishing he would take her in his arms and kiss her.
Lia shrugged into the robe and tied it tight around her waist. “Thank you for your help, but there’s no need for you to come with me. I can find my own way back to my room.”
“I insist,” he said, taking her elbow in a light but firm grip.
She pulled away. “And I’d rather you didn’t.”
“It’s nonnegotiable, sugar.”
Something snapped inside her then. Lia lifted her chin. She was so very tired of people telling her what to do. Of not being taken seriously or respected in any way. She was tired enough of it that she was done putting up with it.
This day, as they say, had been the last straw.
Lia plopped down on the edge of the bed and performed her first overt act of defiance as she crossed one leg over the other and said, “I suppose I’m staying here, then.”
Zach fought the urge to grind his teeth. It was everything he could do not to push her back on the bed and untie that robe. His body was painfully hard. Lia tossed her hair again—that hot, tangled mess that was somehow sexier than any polished style could have been—and Zach suppressed the groan that wanted to climb up his throat.
Nothing about this woman was typical. She wasn’t afraid of him, she didn’t seem to want to impress him and she’d jumped into a pool fully clothed because she hated her dress. And now she sat there glaring at him because he was trying to be a gentleman—for once in his life—and make sure she got back to her room safely.
She crossed her arms beneath her breasts and he fought the urge to go to her, to tunnel his fingers into the thick mass of her auburn hair and lift her mouth to his.
That was what she needed, damn it—a hot, thorough, commanding kiss.
Hell, she needed more than that, but he wasn’t going to do any of it. No matter that she seemed to want him to.
And why not?
Tonight, he was a man who’d dragged a drowning woman from a pool, a man who hadn’t had sex in so long he’d nearly forgotten what it was like. He wasn’t a senator’s son or an all-American hero. He wasn’t a broken and battered war vet. He was just a man who was interested in a woman for the first time in a long time.
More than interested. His body had been hard from the moment he’d stripped her out of that sodden pink dress, her creamy golden skin and dusky pink nipples firing his blood. He’d tried not to look, tried to view the task with ruthless efficiency, but her body was so lush and beautiful that it would take a man made of stone not to react.
Holy hell.
She stared at him defiantly, her chin lifting, and he had an overwhelming urge to master her. To push her back on the bed, peel open that robe and take what he wanted. Would she be as hot as those smoldering eyes seemed to say she would? Would she burn him to a crisp if he dared to give in to this urgent need?
“If you stay, you might get more than you bargained for,” he growled. Because he was primed, on edge, ready to explode. It had been so long since he’d felt desire that to feel it now was a huge adrenaline rush.
Like flying.
“I’ve already had more than I bargained for today,” she said hotly, color flooding her cheeks. “I’ve had to parade around in front of everyone in a hideous dress that made me look even fatter than I am. I’ve had to endure the whispers and stares, the laughter, the humiliation.”
Zach blinked. Fat? No way. But of course she would think so. Women always did, unless they happened to be about five-six and weighed one hundred pounds. This one was taller than that, about five eight or so, and stacked with curves. She wasn’t willowy. And she damn sure wasn’t fat.
She choked out a laugh. “I also found out I have a sister—of course, she wants nothing to do with me—and on top of all of that, I finally did something daring and jumped in the pool fully clothed, only to nearly drown.”
She sucked in a sharp breath, and he knew she was hovering on the edge of tears. “And then I wake up here, with you, completely naked—”
He thought she was going to cry, but she got to her feet suddenly, her eyes blazing, her chin thrusting in the air, though he could see that it still trembled. Her hands were fists at her sides.
“Even then, the only reaction I arouse in you is pity. I’m naked in front of a man and all he thinks about is the quickest way to get rid of me—so you will excuse me if I fail to cower before this latest pronouncement!”
Zach could only stare at her, mesmerized. He’d have sworn she was going to cry, sworn she would blubber and fall apart—but she hadn’t. She was staring at him now, two high red spots on her cheeks, her dark auburn hair tumbling over her shoulders, her eyes flashing fire. The robe had slipped open a bit, exposing the inside of a creamy thigh.
Lust flooded him until he had to react or explode. He meant to turn away, meant to put distance between them. Hell, he meant to walk out of the room and not come back—
But instead, he closed the distance between them, gripped her shoulders as he bent toward her.
“Pity is the last thing I feel for you, Lia,” he grated, still determined in some part of his brain to push her away before it was too late.
But then he tugged her closer, until she pressed against him, until she’d have to be stupid not to know what he was thinking about right now.
She gasped, and a skein of hot need uncoiled within him.
“Does this feel like pity?” he growled, his hands sliding down to grip her hips and pull her fully into him.
Her eyes grew large in her lovely face, liquid. For the barest of moments, he thought she seemed too innocent, too sweet. But then she reached up and put a palm to his cheek. Her thumb ghosted over his lips. He couldn’t suppress a shudder of longing.
“No,” sh
e said, her voice barely more than a whisper. “It doesn’t.”
He thought there was a note of wonder in her voice, but he ignored it and pressed on, sliding a hand around to cup her round bottom. She wasn’t fat, the stupid woman. She was curvaceous, with generously proportioned boobs and hips that other women could only envy.
“Is this what you want, Lia?” he asked, dipping his head, sliding his lips along her cheek in surrender to the hot feelings pounding through him.
Her only answer was a soft gasp. Desire scorched into him, hammered in his veins. He’d wanted her to go back to her room, wanted to remove the temptation when he had no idea what might happen if he had sex with her, but now that she was in his arms, sending her away had suddenly become impossible.
Her arms went around his neck, and he shuddered. She should be frightened of him after what had happened in the ballroom, but she showed no fear whatsoever. Then again, he had been the one to pull her from the water. Perhaps that redeemed him somewhat in her eyes.
“Why aren’t you afraid of me?” he asked against the soft skin of her throat.
“I’m only afraid you’ll stop,” she said, and he squeezed her to him in reaction as emotions overwhelmed him.
He wanted to tell her not to trust him, wanted to tell her to run far and fast, that he could give her nothing more than a night of passion. He wanted to, but he couldn’t find the voice right now. Not when what he so desperately wanted to do was slide his tongue into her mouth and see if she tasted as sweet as she looked.
Zach drew back just enough to see her face. Her eyes were closed, dark lashes fanning her cheekbones, and her pink lips parted on a sigh. She arched her body into his and heat streaked through him. It had been so long. Too long …
He shouldn’t do this. He really shouldn’t. He didn’t know this woman at all.
But it felt like he did. Like he’d known her for ages.
With a groan, Zach fell headlong into temptation.
CHAPTER THREE
AS ZACH’S MOUTH came down on hers, Lia’s first thought was to freeze. Her second was to melt into his kiss. She’d been kissed before, but nothing like this. Nothing with this kind of heat or raw passion. He wanted her. He really wanted her. This was not a dream, or a fever, or an illusion. This was a man—a hot, mysterious, dangerous man—and he wanted her, Lia Corretti.
His tongue slid against hers, and she shivered with longing. She didn’t really know what she was doing—but she knew how it was supposed to feel, how she was supposed to react.
And she had no problem reacting. Lia arched into him, met his tongue eagerly, if somewhat inexpertly. She just hoped he didn’t realize it.
The kiss was hot, thrilling, stomach-churning in a good way. Her body ached with the sudden need to feel more than this. To feel everything.
She knew she shouldn’t be doing this with him. Wanting this. But she did.
Oh, how she did.
To hell with what she was supposed to do. To hell with feeling unwanted and unloved and unattractive. What was she waiting for? Who was she waiting for?
Zach made her feel beautiful, desirable. She wanted to keep feeling that way.
When Zach loosened the robe, her heartbeat spiked. But she didn’t stop him. She had no intention of stopping him. When would she ever get another chance to feel this way? Eligible men weren’t exactly thick on the ground in her grandparents’ village.
And even if they were, they’d have been unlikely to risk Salvatore Corretti’s wrath by sleeping with his granddaughter out of wedlock.
Zach’s warm hand slid along her bare thigh, up beneath the T-shirt he’d loaned her. His touch felt like silk and heat and she only wanted more. She shifted against him, felt the evidence of his arousal. He was hard, thick, and her body reacted with a surge of moisture between her thighs.
A sliver of fear wormed its way through her happiness. Was she really going to do this? Was she really going to have sex for the first time with an American whose last name she didn’t even know? Was she going to keep pretending like she knew what she was doing even though she didn’t?
Yes.
Yes, most definitely. Today was a new day for Lia Corretti. She was finally going to be brave and decisive and in control of her own destiny. No one would force her to wear an ugly pink dress—or call her fat, mousy and weak—in front of hundreds of people ever again.
The robe fell from her shoulders and then Zach swept her up into his arms. She gasped at his strength as he put a knee on the bed and laid her back on the mattress. And then she froze as he came down on top of her, his jeans-clad body so much bigger than hers.
He must have felt her hesitation because he lifted his head, his dark eyes searching hers. “If you don’t want this, Lia—”
She put her fingers over his mouth to stop him from uttering another word. “I do,” she said. And then she told a lie. “But it’s been a long time and I—I …”
The words died on her lips. Surely he would see right through her, see to the heart of her deception. She had no experience at all, and he would be angry when he figured that out. And then he would send her away.
He pulled her hand from his mouth and pressed a kiss to her palm. “It’s been a long time for me, as well.” She must have looked doubtful, because he laughed softly. “Cross my heart, Lia. It’s the truth.”
She lifted a trembling hand to trace her fingers over his firm, sensuous lips. She barely knew him, and yet she felt as if she’d known him forever. But what if she disappointed him somehow? What if this was nothing like she’d read in novels?
“But you are so beautiful,” she said.
He laughed, and she realized she’d spoken aloud. Heat flooded her. Oh, how simple she was sometimes!
“And so are you,” he said, dipping his head to drop kisses along the column of her throat.
“You don’t have to say that.” She gasped as his tongue swirled in the hollow at the base of her throat. “I’m already in your bed.”
“I never say things I don’t mean.” He lifted his head, his mouth curling in a wicked grin. “Besides, you’re forgetting that I’ve already seen everything. And I approve, Lia. I definitely approve.”
She didn’t get a chance to reply because his hands spanned her hips and pushed the T-shirt upward, over her breasts, baring her to his sight.
“Still perfect,” he said, and then he took one of her nipples in his mouth, his tongue swirling around the hard little point while she worked so hard not to scream.
She’d had no idea it would feel like this. No idea that a man’s mouth on her breast could send such sweet, aching pleasure shooting into her core. Her sex throbbed with heat and want, and her hands clutched his head, held him to her when she feared he would leave.
He did not. He only moved his attentions to her other breast, and Lia thought she would die from the sensations streaking through her. How had she missed out on this for so many years? How had she missed so much living?
Zach’s tongue traced the underside of her breast, and then he was moving down, kissing a hot trail over her stomach. She was torn between anticipation and embarrassment that he could see the soft jiggle of her flesh. Why hadn’t she insisted on turning out the light?
But then his tongue slid along the seam of her sex and she forgot everything but him. Lia cried out, unable to help herself. Never had she imagined how good this could feel, how perfect.
He circled her clitoris with his tongue, growing ever closer, until he finally touched her right where all those nerves concentrated. Lia stopped breathing. Her body clenched tighter and tighter as he focused his attention on that single spot. She wanted to reach the peak so badly, and she never wanted it to end, either.
She tried to hold out, tried to make it last, but Zach was far too skilled at making her body sing for him. Lia exploded in a shower of molten sparks, his name on her lips.
She turned her head into the pillow, embarrassed, gasping, trying to gather the shards of herself back toget
her again. What had he done to her? How had he made her lose control so quickly, so thoroughly?
She felt Zach move and she turned to look at him. He stood beside the bed, tugging off his clothes. He looked fierce, and her heart thrummed at the intensity on his face. She had no idea what she should be doing, but she didn’t think she could go wrong by trying to help him remove his clothes. She sat up and started unbuckling his belt while he ripped his shirt over his head.
“Just a minute,” he said, turning and disappearing into the adjoining bathroom for a second. When he returned, he was holding a condom package that bore the Corretti Hotel logo. She nearly laughed. Leave it to Matteo to think of everything in his hotels.
Zach’s jeans disappeared, and Lia’s breath caught at the sheer beauty of his body. He was hard, muscular—but he was also scarred. There was a long red scar that ran along his thigh, and a smaller round scar near his rib cage. Emotion welled inside her as she realized what it was: a bullet wound. She wanted to ask him what had happened, but he knelt between her thighs and rolled on the condom—and all thoughts of bullet wounds fled from her head as her breath shortened at the knowledge of what came next.
He bent and took her mouth with his, stoking the fire inside her instantaneously. When he stretched out over the top of her, she could think of nothing but how perfect this felt, how amazing to be naked beneath a man, his body stretched over hers, dominating hers in all the right ways.
Lia wrapped her legs around his waist, arched her body into him, her hands sliding down his back until she could grip his buttocks. It was natural, instinctual, and she gloried in the sound of approval he made in his throat.
She wanted to explore him, wanted to remember this night forever. But the fire between them was too urgent to go slowly. Lia gasped as she felt the head of his penis at her entrance. She knew this would hurt. What she didn’t know was how badly.
Zach reached between them and stroked her. “Are you ready, Lia?” he whispered. “Or have you changed your mind? Last chance to say so.”
A Facade to Shatter Page 3
