by Annie West
For all her protests, her fine talk about not being a convenience, she’d succumbed without a fight. Just lay there and given herself up to the ecstasy he wrought.
Carys bowed her head into upturned hands, hunching away from him. What had she done? How could she face herself?
‘Carys? Are you all right?’ His roving hands stopped, gripping her shoulders beneath her dress.
‘I’m fine,’ she lied.
She fought the tremors of delight spreading from his touch. The secret excitement hoarded close in her heart that he’d wanted her, and no one else, in all that time. Had she no pride?
It would be too easy to fall in love with Alessandro again. Where would that get her? A one-sided relationship where she gave all and he only as much as it suited him.
But she feared it was too late. That there was no turning back. Emotion filled the bitter void she’d lived with so long.
She needed time to work out what this all meant.
Yet there was no mistaking the sizzle of anticipation in her blood as his hands wandered, evoking magic.
Was she doomed to be enraptured by him all over again?
‘Let me help you out of that dress. It can’t be comfortable.’
Carys slithered forward out of his reach. ‘I can do it myself.’ It was too soon to meet his assessing eyes. If she didn’t gather her wits, he’d have no trouble reading the effect he had on her.
She made it to the edge of the bed, sitting up and holding the sagging bodice against her breasts with one palm. She stopped there, rigid, as Alessandro walked around to stand before her.
Naked.
Long-limbed, muscle-toned, a tall Adonis come to life.
An aroused Adonis.
Her body prickled at nape, breast and forehead as heat bloomed. She swallowed hard and tried to control her wayward pulse.
She’d just experienced the most intense climax of her life. Twice. She should not be interested in sex right now.
He shifted his weight, and she watched, fascinated as muscles flexed in broad thighs and across his taut abdomen. A dart of fire pierced her chest and spiralled lazily down into her womb.
She shut her eyes, trying to banish the heady image of Alessandro, pure potent male, before her. But there was no escape. The picture was branded on her brain.
She tried to think of Leo, of the guests beginning to leave the wedding reception. Of—
‘It will be easier if I help, Carys.’
Mutely she sat as he unpinned the veil that hung haphazardly from her hair. She felt the fine lace drop away but didn’t open her eyes. Not when Alessandro stood before her so close his heat invaded her space.
His hands at her elbows urged her to her feet and she complied.
She snapped her eyes open, keeping them trained on his shuttered face. What had she expected? To see a reflection of the stunned delight that had consumed her such a short time ago? Instead his hooded gaze and flattened mouth gave nothing away. Only the merest hint of a frown suggested he wasn’t quite satisfied with how this had played out.
What more could he want? She’d been putty in his hands, so eager she hadn’t even managed to remove her precious gown. Her cheeks burned. She was so easy where he was concerned.
It had always been like that with Alessandro.
‘I can take it from there, thanks,’ she said in a clipped voice. But as she sidestepped he was already dragging the bodice from her shoulders.
With a shush of silk the dress fell to wedge at her elbows. She darted a look at Alessandro, but, contrary to expectations, he wasn’t scrutinising the bare flesh he’d exposed. Instead he watched her face. That look sent her stomach plunging on a rollercoaster ride.
‘Let me.’ As simply as that, when his hands slipped down her sleeves and tugged, she allowed him to pull the dress away. It dropped in rumpled folds around her feet and he helped her step out. Only now did she realise he’d removed her shoes. She stood before him in bra, suspender belt and stockings. Totally vulnerable.
Yet the glow in his eyes warmed her to the core and stopped her from covering herself.
She felt something swell inside. She felt almost powerful. Felt desired. Even, for a crazy moment, cherished.
‘Did you mean that?’ Carys found herself asking before she could think twice. ‘About there not being anyone since the accident?’
It was so unlikely, especially given his cold fury when he’d accused her of betraying him. But the Alessandro she’d known had never lied. If he said it was so…
He leaned close, holding her with his gaze, and with his hands, large and warm, grasping her upper arms.
For a moment she thought he wouldn’t answer. She read a play of unfathomable expressions in his shadowed eyes and felt his fingers stiffen against her bare skin.
Finally he nodded. ‘Si. There was no one.’ He didn’t look happy about the admission, as if it impinged somehow on his masculinity. But Carys was so elated she barely registered it. A fizzing, as if of a hundred champagne bottles, flooded her bloodstream, making her dizzy. All this time…had he been subconsciously waiting for her?
She tried to blank the preposterous notion from her head, but it lodged there, insidiously tempting.
It meant nothing. He’d been recuperating from injury, or busy with business. Yet a stubborn part of her clung to the idea his celibacy had been because he hadn’t had her.
‘Carlotta told me you hadn’t been lovers,’ she blurted out. ‘She said you hadn’t planned to marry her.’
He shrugged, still holding her, yet his face took on a more rigid cast. ‘I told you I would not behave in such a way. Carlotta is a childhood friend, nothing more.’
Even now, without remembering the details himself, he was so sure of himself, so positive about his actions!
Carys wished she had half his self-belief. She’d striven a lifetime to overcome the ingrained idea she was second best, fostered by being the ‘slow’ member of an academically high-achieving family. And by being all but ignored by her busy parents. Even now it was so easy to let doubt take hold.
‘I’m sorry I didn’t trust you, Alessandro.’ Tentatively she raised her hand and pressed it over his where he held her. The feel of her hand on his seemed so right.
It wasn’t her fault alone their relationship had unravelled at the seams. But she realised now her readiness to believe the worst, fed by her own sense of inadequacy, as much as Livia’s lies, had been a major part of it.
Her throat clogged in mixed hope and fear as she waited for his response. Tension buzzed her rigid body.
‘Now you know the truth,’ he said dismissively. ‘The past doesn’t matter.’
But it does, she wanted to cry as pent up feelings lashed her. If they’d been able to trust, to believe in each other, they might still be together. Truly together, not yoked in a marriage of convenience.
Bitterness welled on her tongue as regrets swamped her.
‘I believe you didn’t betray me, Alessandro. Is it so hard for you to believe I didn’t betray you?’
Alessandro stared down into her earnest, flushed face and felt again the stab of unfamiliar emotion in his gut. This woman twisted him inside out. With her words as well as her delectable body.
Automatically he shied from the emotions she sought to awaken. They were too confronting, too foreign to a man who built his life on logic and self-sufficiency. Too dangerous.
‘I believe, piccolina, that the past is the past. There is nothing to be gained in revisiting it. Instead we have our future with our son to create. Our future together.’
She blinked and he could have sworn he saw tears well in eyes that had turned from hopeful blue to dull slate-grey in a moment. Heat corkscrewed through his chest at the knowledge he was responsible. But he refused to lie, even to placate the woman he intended to live with for life.
His trust only went so far. Taking any woman’s word without proof was as foreign to him as breathing underwater.
She could not
seriously ask him to accept, on the word of a woman he couldn’t remember, that he’d been wrong to accuse her of infidelity. He must have had excellent reasons for the accusations.
Until he knew more, he would reserve judgement. Any sane man would.
Carys shifted, trying to shrug off his hold.
‘I need to hang this dress up.’ Her voice was as cool and colourless as a mountain stream and she avoided his eyes.
Though she didn’t berate or accuse, he felt her disappointment as a tangible force. His belly clenched with a sensation that might have been regret.
Alessandro didn’t like it.
‘Later.’ The word emerged roughly, dragging her stunned gaze to his face.
Didn’t she understand that he gave her as much as any man could in the circumstances? That he’d already gone out on a limb tying himself to a woman he didn’t know simply for the sake of their son?
And for the shimmering inexplicable force that hovered between them.
No! Now he was buying into that female territory where emotions rather than sense ruled the world.
‘This is more important than your dress.’ His hands slid round her bare shoulders and he yanked her close, revelling in the bare heat of her torso, the delicate scratch of her lace bra and soft breasts against his thudding chest.
Without giving her time to protest he covered her mouth with his, taking advantage of her parted lips to thrust inside and claim her. She tasted of hot summer days, sun-ripened cherries and warm, luscious woman.
This was real, tangible. The attraction between them sizzled and snarled like a live current. He sank into her sweet depths with something suspiciously like relief. One hand splayed in her hair, holding her so he could ravage her mouth. The other pressed her close.
Hunger rose, raw and untrammelled, making a mockery of every resolution to remain in control. Need consumed him.
Dimly he was aware he’d unleashed an onslaught on her, not a slow seduction. But he couldn’t stop, couldn’t think, until gradually the rigidity left her bones and she melted into him, her hands sliding up to cup his neck. He shuddered with pleasure when she pressed into him as if she too couldn’t get enough of the powerful passion driving them.
Only much later, when their chests heaved from lack of oxygen and her lax form told him she was his for the taking, did he remember his vow to seduce and not simply ravage.
Moments later he’d flicked her bra open and dragged it off. He bent and cupped one luscious breast in his hand. Its weight was perfect, made for his palm. She sighed as he closed his lips around one peak and suckled, cried out when he bit gently on her nipple. Her hands dug into his skull, keeping him close as he lavished attention on one breast then the other. And all the while his body clamoured for more.
She swayed in his hold and he nudged her back a step till she collapsed on the bed. Perfect. Before she could protest he was between her knees, shoulders spreading her thighs, his hunger an unstoppable force.
‘I—’ Her words died as he cupped her with his palm, gently applying pressure till he felt a response shudder through her. He nudged aside her hands that had sought to stop him. Then he took his time, stroking and teasing till her body lifted off the mattress to meet his hand.
Relief scoured him. She was as needy as he. As hungry for this passion. His body felt gripped by a vice, too tight, too hard, too impossibly aroused, just by the sight and sound of Carys responding to his ministrations.
Never had a lover’s pleasure affected him so profoundly. He wanted to give her more and more, even as his whole being thrummed with the need for release.
‘Alessandro!’ Her protest died as he parted her folds and licked her, tasting the dewy salt tang that was pure Carys. It was addictive, as was the delicate shiver of her legs enfolding him.
It didn’t take much to push her over the edge and he revelled in the sound of her gasping breath, the feel of her body curving up around him, the shudders racking her from top to toe. He smiled his satisfaction even as he forced down a desperate hunger for his own release.
He needed to show Carys that here, now, was the beginning of their life together. That it was more important than the past she clung to and that he couldn’t recall.
That yawning blank disturbed him more than he’d admit, but he was determined to carve a life with his child. And, therefore, his bride. He wanted to please her, sate her, till she was completely, absolutely his. Till she didn’t hanker for anything else. So Carys understood the magnitude of this passion between them.
And gave up badgering him with emotions and tests of trust.
What they had was enough. More than enough.
Carys surely would attest to that as he brought her to climax again. This time he leaned over her, watching her eyes shine like a starry night.
Then, only when she was spent, did he slowly join with her, careful of her exhausted body. He trembled, almost undone by the depth of pleasure at being inside her. She tugged him close and held him to her. Instantly desperate energy rose and swamped him. He gave up all pretence at control and lost himself in the ecstasy of being at one with his wife.
Impossibly, it was as good as before. Better.
He didn’t understand.
But he ceased thinking as Carys wrapped her legs around his hips and told him exactly how much she wanted him.
Aeons later Alessandro’s drumming heartbeat slowed and he recovered enough to roll his weight off Carys and pull her onto him. Only then did his brain engage.
Despite the incredible pleasure they’d shared, his thoughts were nothing but trouble.
Above all was the niggling, astonishing idea that sex with Carys felt too good to be just about physical release.
That it felt profoundly important.
Like coming home.
CHAPTER TWELVE
‘PAPA! Papa!’ Leo’s screams of delight resounded in the glassed-in room that housed the villa’s full-length pool.
Carys looked up from her paper to see Alessandro rise out of the water like a sleek, mighty sea god, all honed muscle and heart-stopping virility. The kick of her heartbeat accelerating played havoc with her breathing.
Every night since their wedding Carys had shared a bed with him. She hadn’t been able to resist. She’d learned again the feel, scent and taste of that superbly sculpted body. Learned too the passion and pleasure he could unleash in her. Yet familiarity with his magnificent body didn’t lessen the intensity of her reactions. Just the sight of Alessandro, almost naked in low-slung swimming trunks, set a pulse thrumming deep in her womb.
With casual ease he threw Leo in the air then caught him again, spinning him round, toes dragging in the warm water. Leo squealed with glee, holding tight to Alessandro’s sinewy forearms.
Her son. Her husband.
A flash of heat speared Carys at the sight of them together, delighting in each other’s company.
Stupidly, emotion clogged her throat.
Alessandro and Leo were developing the sort of relationship she’d dreamed of for her son. At first Alessandro had been wary, almost diffident, as if dealing with a baby was tantamount to meeting an alien being. But gradually he’d become adept at handling his child and a camaraderie had begun to build between them, a relationship that was based on far more than duty.
She knew about that sort of relationship. Initially she’d feared that, though Alessandro had been adamant he wanted his son, adamant enough even to marry her, he’d be the sort of parent she’d suffered. The sort who provided the necessities of life, and even some of the comforts, but never quite connected with their child. The sort who saw parenting as an obligation, especially when their child was a cuckoo in the nest, unlike them or their other offspring.
‘Papa!’ Leo’s voice grew shriller as he demanded another aerial stunt.
Carys lowered her newspaper and turned more fully towards the pool, looking over her glasses. That high-pitched tone was a sure sign that Leo was tired and over-stimulated by this exci
ting new game. If it continued he’d end in tears.
She opened her mouth to warn Alessandro and suggest it was time to finish, but he forestalled her. He lowered Leo into the water and gently towed him along, pointing out the richly coloured sea creatures featured at the bottom of the enormous mural covering the end wall. After a few grizzly moments Leo became intrigued, leaning forward in his dad’s arms and trying to repeat some of the words.
Carys leant back. Alessandro really was developing an understanding of his son. It was there in his eyes when he looked at Leo, in the calm encouragement and occasional firm reprimands he gave. He had a natural aptitude for parenting.
He enjoyed being with Leo. Why else would he spend so much time here at the villa, ignoring the lure of the office?
Alessandro still drove himself, working long hours, but increasingly those hours became flexible. Today he’d arrived mid-afternoon, at a time when Carys and Leo were always in the pool. Instead of closeting himself in his office or taking important calls, he’d spent the last half hour in the water with Leo.
She’d done the right thing. Leo and Alessandro were building something that would last a lifetime. Respect and love. The sort of relationship she’d longed for as a kid. The sort she’d vowed her son would have. Now he’d have it with both parents.
Even if all that kept those parents together was their child. And lust.
She grimaced, ashamed to admit the all-consuming hunger Alessandro sparked in her.
The lust would fade, on Alessandro’s part, at least. Carys was a novelty still, and she was here, available, all too ready to accede to his every sensual demand.
Heaven help her when he lost interest in her!
For with every day spent here in his home, every night cocooned in his arms, sated from his lovemaking, Carys felt the tendrils of her old feelings bud again. She tried to resist, to remind herself that what she felt wasn’t reciprocated, that this was a marriage of convenience.
The trouble was it felt like more.
She squeezed her eyes shut, pinching the bridge of her nose, reminding herself she’d given up on self-delusion.
