He was a randy teenager all over again as he looked at her breasts, heavy and sexy and everything he had imagined. More. Her breasts were bigger than he had thought, tipped with perfect rosy-pink discs. She possessed a body that should never be constrained by a starchy lawyer’s outfit. Her proportions were all feminine curves: bountiful breasts, a narrow waist and proper hips that swelled tantalisingly under the dreary track pants. He wanted nothing more than to stride over to her and feel her nakedness pressed against him.
With some sixth sense, though, he was aware of her skittishness. He didn’t get it, but he could feel it. Any sudden moves and he got the feeling that she would take flight, even though she obviously wasn’t embarrassed about her body, wasn’t trying to be coy and hide her breasts behind her hands. He kept his eyes on her face as he removed his trousers and flung them to one side, still looking at her.
Chase felt her skin tighten at the glaring evidence of his arousal. His dark boxers could hardly contain it. She shakily reached to the elasticised waist of her joggers and stilled as he moved towards her.
‘You look as though you want to run away,’ he murmured. He swallowed hard because the tips of her breasts were almost brushing his chest and his hands itched to feel the weight of them. ‘Believe it or not, this is taking it slow by my standards.’
‘I believe you,’ Chase said huskily. She touched his chest with one finger and felt his soft moan.
‘Come to bed.’ He stepped away from her. ‘I’m not sure how long the slow plan can carry on for.’
When he turned his back to her, Chase knew that he was trying to hold himself back. She felt giddy with power. It was a wonderfully novel sensation and it afforded her a layer of strength she hadn’t known she possessed. With Shaun, it had never been like this, never, not even in the very beginning. But she didn’t want to think about her ex-husband. That was one very fast and very sure route to instant depression.
She slipped out of the jogging bottoms; his back was still turned when she crept into bed and under the covers.
‘Now...’ He wasn’t used to taking sex slowly. He had never had to pace himself. He failed to consider that pacing himself with a woman for whom he harboured nothing more than a desire to even the score made no sense. ‘Tell me...’ he flipped onto his side so that they were lying under the covers, front to front, their bodies not touching but both of them vitally aware of their nudity under the duvet ‘...about the prints on your walls. And the four-poster bed...’
CHAPTER SIX
IF THERE WERE prizes for holding a man’s interest, then Alessandro thought that Chase would be in line for all of them. He had planned on a straightforward conquest, aided and abetted by the trump card of saving the shelter. He would take her and, by taking her, he would rid himself of the allure of the inaccessible—which was the position to which she seemed to have been elevated over the years, apparently without him even having noticed. For him, the accessible had always had a short-lived appeal, especially when the quarry in question came with a truckload of dubious cargo.
And she had played him at his own game, had not been browbeaten but had laid her cards on the table. But then that hesitancy, that tentative admission that sex wasn’t her thing... She had lain in his arms but he could feel her tension and he had backed off, even though his body had been on fire for her.
The rapacious, lying, deceitful, manipulative woman had shown a shrinking violet side to her that had got under his skin. Since when had he become the sort of man who was content to hold off, especially in a situation like this, with a woman scarcely worth his time and attention? He had held off with her once and look at where that had got him! But had he done what he should have done? Had he sneered at her attempts to play the shy maiden and ploughed forward? Hell, no! He had lain with her in his arms like the virgin she most certainly was not, had talked, and then he had left to return to his apartment and a freezing-cold shower.
Then he had gone abroad for two days, giving himself time to figure out why he was behaving so out of character and giving her time to wise up to the fact that what they had was a deal—and one he intended to cash, because her time limit for playing shy had been used up. He had returned late last night with two flights to Italy booked and the decidedly uncomfortable realisation that there might just be a need to shift gears slightly—to woo her, despite everything he had said about what they had not being a courtship. Somewhere along the line the whole ‘time limit’ speech had been shelved.
He just knew that when she came to him she would come of her own volition. She would jettison whatever the hell it was that was holding her back. In the space of a heartbeat, it had become a matter of pride—actually in the space of time it had taken for the notion of a break in Italy to take root, which had been fairly instantaneous.
If she was holding back because she hadn’t managed to put the premature death of her husband behind her, then she needed to move on from that place and come to him willingly. There was no way he was going to sleep with any woman unless her thoughts were focused one hundred per cent on him and, if it took some seduction to get her to that place, then he would play along with it. The end result would be the same, wouldn’t it? And he was an ‘end result’ kind of guy.
He had phoned her from abroad and announced the whole Italy idea with far more conviction than he had been feeling at the time, but she had taken little persuading as it turned out in the end. She was due some time off and she would take it. A little more enthusiasm would have been appreciated but he had met his match in her. She hadn’t pandered to him eight years ago and she wasn’t going to pander to him now, even though she knew him for the billionaire that he was.
Now, standing in front of the check-in desk at Heathrow surrounded by crowds, he scowled as he felt himself inevitably harden at the tantalising prospect of having her; of touching that flawless body; of sinking against those breasts, feeling them against his chest, against the palms of his big hands, pushing into his mouth. He had once lost his head over a mirage and now he would take what he felt was his due, take the promised fruit and kill the bitterness inside him that made such an unwelcome companion.
Through the crowds he spotted her weaving and looking around for him and he gave her a brief wave.
‘You’re ten minutes late. You should have let my driver collect you instead of coming by public transport.’
Chase looked up at his frowning face and was tempted to snap because, however much she wore her hard-won independence like a badge of honour, he obviously had a Neanderthal approach to women in general. But she bit back the retort because she could remember the way he had always taken command when she had known him: paying for whatever they had before she could offer to go halves; impatient with second-rate service; intolerant of anyone in his lectures who’d failed to try.
‘I told you. I had some work to finish before I left.’ Left for a week in the sun. She had no idea where that idea of Alessandro’s had sprung from. She had fought against going, because she was all too aware that their relationship was destined to crash and burn, and the last thing she needed was a plethora of memories she would later have to work out of her system, but he had been insistent. Maybe being out of the country would infuse this weird closure of theirs with an unreality that would be easy to box away.
Italy, he had told her, was his home and, hell, why not. It was a nice time of year over there and he had just closed a massive deal. She could see his house. His casual tone of voice down the end of the line had told her that it wasn’t a big deal. He would be going over there himself, she figured, with her or without her, but he would take her along because, as far as he was concerned, she had yet to fulfil her side of the bargain. Lying naked in his arms, tense as a plank of wood, didn’t count.
Had they had sex, she was sure that he would not have suggested the Italy trip. Revenge lay behind his motivation and revenge was an emotio
n that could be sated very quickly. Certainly, a week of her would be enough. Did she deserve that? Maybe she did, in his eyes, and she would never disabuse him of the complicated story behind her lies because that would open up a whole new can of worms far worse than the one she was dealing with.
‘Isn’t that the old hoary line used by men?’ Alessandro queried, moving towards the check-in girl at the first class desk. It occurred to him that he would have quite enjoyed having her at his beck and call and put that down to a caveman instinct he’d never known he possessed. Or maybe he only possessed it when the chase was still on, and only with her because she hadn’t followed the pattern of the women he slept with.
‘You’re very chauvinistic, Alessandro. Women who have careers can’t just jettison them the second something better comes along. As it is, I’ll have a mountain of work to get down to when I get back. I shouldn’t really be here at all, even if I am due time off.’
‘Are you telling me that being with me is more compelling than your career?’
‘I’m not saying anything of the sort!’
‘You work too hard.’
‘How else am I expected to get on?’
‘What are you expecting to get on to?’ They had checked in and were now heading through Passport Control, towards the first class lounge. Years ago he had considered the possibility of a private jet, if only to cut down on the inconvenience of a bustling airport, but had ditched the idea, because who needed to be responsible for such a vast personal carbon footprint when it could be avoided? Shame, though, because, had he had one, he could have introduced her to some creative ways of passing time twenty thousand miles up without an audience of prying eyes.
‘I’d like to head up my own pro bono department. Maybe even branch out on my own and concentrate on that area. Bring in a few other employees...who knows?’
‘And what about another prance up the aisle? Is that up there on the agenda? Surely your parents would want to hear the patter of little feet when you visit them in Australia? Or do visits to Australia get in the way of your career?’
Chase temporarily froze. The passing lie was not one on which she wanted to dwell. She wanted no reminders of her non-existent family. She knew that the last thing he would want to discuss would be her ex or her past treachery. His only goal was to get her into bed; her only goal was to put this murky, tangled, haunting past to rest. He was motivated by revenge, she by a need for closure. It was a straightforward situation. She needed no reminders of white lies that had been told and could not now be un-told.
How would he react were he to know that, not only had she once lied to him about her marital status, not only had she dumped him in a way that now made her cringe with guilt and shame even though she knew that it just couldn’t have been helped at the time, but that her entire past was as substantial as gossamer?
‘Australia is a long way away...’ she muttered vaguely.
‘Yes. I know. I’ve been there. You’ve never told me which part of Australia they live in. It’s a big place.’
‘You wouldn’t have heard of it.’ She could feel beads of perspiration break out all over her body. ‘It’s just a small town on the outskirts of...um...Melbourne. Look, I really don’t want to talk about this. Discussing personal issues isn’t what we’re about, is it?’ Never had she realised how being trapped in a lie could prove as painful as walking on a bed of burning coals.
‘No,’ Alessandro said shortly. ‘It’s not.’ He looked at her blank eyes and tight smile and felt a surge of rage that the thing most women gave naturally to him—the desperate openness which they always seemed to hope could suck him into something permanent and committal—was the one thing Chase steadfastly refused to give. It angered him that he was even going down the road of quizzing her because it reflected a series of inner challenges that he knew were inappropriate. The challenge to get her into bed so that he could assuage the treachery he felt had been done to him had been replaced by the challenge to get her into bed willingly and hot for him; the challenge to wipe her ex out of her head when they finally had sex, the challenge to get into her head, to know what made her tick.
Where the hell did it end? Did he need her to remind him that the rules of the game precluded certain things?
‘Call it making polite conversation,’ he offered with cool politeness.
‘I overreacted. It’s just that...’
‘No need to explain yourself. I’m basically not interested in your past. Like I said, small talk...’
Chase was silenced. Of course he was basically not interested in her past. He was basically not interested in her. He was utterly focused on one thing and one thing only. She nodded, nonchalantly indicating that she understood, that she shared the same sentiment.
When he began telling her about some of the complex legalities of the deal he had just pulled off, she let herself slide smoothly into career-woman mode, and then the conversation flowed faultlessly onto the subject of Beth and the shelter. It was a happy story and Chase felt herself once again relax. This was an odd situation but she could handle it, just as long as she didn’t start feeling angst over stuff, just as long as she maintained the composed exterior that was so much part and parcel of her personality. She couldn’t let herself forget that she wanted this as much as he did. They both had their demons to put to rest.
They landed at Cristoforo Colombo Airport at Genova Sestri to a brilliant day. The wall-to-wall blue skies, which had no longer been in evidence in London after their brief appearance, were here in full force. As soon as they stepped into the waiting limo, she could feel a heady holiday spirit fill her.
‘It’s been ages since I’ve been away,’ she confided as she settled back to watch the stunning scenery gallop past from the back of the car. ‘In fact...’ she turned to him ‘...my only trip abroad in the past few years has been a snatched week at a spa resort in Greece.’
‘In that case, I shall make it my mission to see that you enjoy every second of my country...when and if we have the time; bed can be remarkably compulsive with the right companion in it.’ His dark eyes roved over her face, encompassing her luscious body, enjoying the delicate bloom of colour that tinged her cheeks.
This holiday would put an end to the game playing which he had sworn he wouldn’t tolerate, yet had ended up indulging that one night which should have seen this uncontrollable passion slayed. As she had pointed out in a timely reminder, this wasn’t about getting to know one another, this was about sex. Getting to know one another had been a pointless game which he had mistakenly played a long time ago, little knowing that he had been the only participant.
This time round, there’d be no more messing around and taking things at a snail’s pace. He would move only as slowly as he felt necessary to get her where he wanted her—which was out of his system so that he could return to normality.
Vaguely annoyed at the contrary drift of his thoughts, he was aware of telling her about the Italian Riviera, on autopilot, pointing out the grandeur of the mountainous landscape in such close and unusual proximity to the sea, giving her a little bit of history about the place. His voice warmed as he described the vast olive grove plantations stretching across the hills, vast tracts of which had once been owned by his ancestors, only to disappear over the years, mismanaged and sold off in bits and pieces—the last by his parents, who had needed the money in their quest for eternal fun.
‘You could always come back here...buy more olive groves. It’s so beautiful; I can’t see why you would want to live in London.’ Not even in her wildest, escapist fantasies could she ever have dreamt up somewhere as beautiful as this. The landscape was bold and dramatic, the colours bright and vibrant. Everywhere was bursting with incredible, Technicolor beauty. Alessandro might have had irresponsible parents but it had to be said that, whatever he had gone through, he had gone through it in some style.
&nbs
p; ‘I have a house here. It’s where we’re going.’
‘But how often do you visit it?’
‘As you’ll be the first to agree, taking time out gets in the way of a career.’
Chase bristled at the implicit criticism in his remark. It reminded her that what they shared was simply a truce but, behind that truce, there was a lot he just didn’t like about her. ‘My career is important to me.’
‘I’ve gathered.’
‘You say that as though you disapprove of women who work.’
‘On the contrary. Some of the highest positions in my company are occupied by women.’
‘But you would never actually go out with a woman who had a career...’
Alessandro shot her a sidelong glance. The car was air-conditioned but he had chosen to have the windows opened and the breeze blew through her hair, tossing it across her face in unruly strands. She was no longer the high-powered lawyer with the pristine appearance. She was the girl he had once known and he railed against the pull of memories. ‘There’s little I find attractive about a woman who puts her career first.’
Chase rolled her eyes and sighed, because the breeze was too balmy and the scenery too exotic for arguing. ‘That is because you’re a dinosaur.’ He had old-fashioned ideas. Years ago she had teased him that that was a backlash from his parents’ excesses but she had liked those old-fashioned ideas, never having come across them before.
‘And I take it that under normal circumstances you wouldn’t choose to go out with a dinosaur? Tell me about your husband.’
‘I no longer have a husband,’ Chase said shortly, rousing herself from bittersweet memories of their brief, shared dalliance.
Enthralled by Moretti Page 10
