‘So you don’t have an income?’
‘Actually, I do,’ she said defensively. ‘It might not be quite in your league, but I make money from my cake-making and my waitressing, just in case you’d forgotten.’
Ciro bit back his instinctive response—that what she earned was little more than pocket money. ‘It’s admirable to find a woman who works so hard,’ he said truthfully.
‘Anyway,’ she continued, brushing aside his unexpected compliment with the air of someone determined to change the subject, ‘that’s enough about me. You’re the man of mystery—and so far I know very little about you.’
‘I’m surprised you haven’t looked me up.’
‘And where would I do that?’
‘On the Net.’
She stared at him curiously. ‘Is that what people usually do?’
‘It happens all the time.’ He shrugged. ‘Information is so easy to obtain these days—the only trouble is that not all of it is accurate.’
She heard the cynicism in his voice and thought that must be one of the drawbacks to being powerful—that people would always be interested in you. That they’d always know more about you than you did about them. Always have an agenda, too, she guessed. ‘Anyway, I don’t even have a computer.’
‘Now that,’ he said, a smile curving the edges of his lips, ‘I do not believe.’
‘It’s true! I’ve always been more of a doer, than a reader. And why would I want to waste my time looking at a screen and spending hours on all that social media stuff, when there are so many lovely things I could be looking at in the real world?’
He started laughing, the sound causing a silent couple at a nearby table to glance over at them with unconcealed envy. ‘Are you for real, Lily Scott?’ he questioned softly.
Lily felt disorientated. That soft, dark look he was giving her was making her feel weak. More than weak. It was making her feel vulnerable. And tense. Beneath the soft material of her blue dress she could feel the insistent tug of her nipples and the soft pooling of desire deep in her belly. This is dangerous, she thought.
‘Yes, I’m real enough,’ she said. ‘But so far, you’re not. What should I know about you before you bring in your fleet of bulldozers?’
‘There seems to be a misconception about developers,’ he countered. ‘That they do nothing but destroy.’
‘What, when really they’re just sweet environmentalists who are planning to encourage swarms of butterflies into the area?’
‘I’m not planning to raze the house to the ground, Lily.’
‘Really?’
He looked straight into her eyes. ‘Really,’ he affirmed softly. ‘I’m planning a conversion in keeping with the building, if you must know. I’ll restore your beautiful house to its former splendour and turn it into a hotel. The kind of hotel where people will pay a premium for quiet and laid-back luxury.’
Lily stared at him. It didn’t exactly fill her with joy to think of her old home being available for hire in the future. To imagine people renting out the room in which she’d been born. But maybe if it had to be sold to a hotelier, then Ciro D’Angelo might just be the best kind. Just imagine if he’d been planning to put an ugly housing development there, or had wanted to erect some horrible modern monstrosity in its place. ‘I suppose that doesn’t sound too bad,’ she said cautiously.
‘I’m glad that my scheme meets with your approval,’ he said gravely.
‘I wouldn’t go quite that far—and you’ve still managed to avoid telling me anything about yourself.’
‘What exactly do you want to know, dolcezza?’
She wanted to know what it would be like to feel his lips pressing down hard on hers. ‘Do you have brothers?’
‘No.’
Or how it would feel to be crushed against that hard and virile body. ‘Sisters?’
He shook his head. ‘No.’
With an effort, she pushed away her wayward thoughts. ‘And was it a … happy childhood?’
His eyes narrowed. Should he come right out and tell her the truth? That in its way, it had been a particular type of hell. He remembered lying in the silent darkness, listening for the first sound of his mother’s high-heeled shoes hitting the marble steps. Holding his breath to discover whether or not she was alone or whether he would hear the murmur of male laughter and her own muffled response. He gave the hint of a shrug. ‘It was okay.’
She wondered what had made his dark eyes grow so stony. ‘Just okay?’ she questioned.
A cool expression iced the dark angles of his face. ‘Is this supposed to be a dinner date, or a therapy session?’
Through the flickering light of the candles she could see the tightening of his mouth and suddenly Lily didn’t want to spoil the evening. ‘I didn’t mean to pry,’ she said quietly.
But somehow Ciro knew that. Had he been unnecessarily harsh with her, when it had been concern and not curiosity which he could hear in her voice? ‘You’re talking about something which happened a long time ago,’ he said. ‘Something I prefer not to dwell on. At heart, all you need to know about me is that I’m just a simple boy from Naples.’
His expression was so irresistible, his assertion so completely outrageous that Lily started laughing. ‘Of course you are.’
He leaned forward. ‘Who badly wants to kiss the woman sitting opposite him.’
Lily put down her glass, afraid that the sudden trembling of her hand would cause it to topple. ‘Stop it,’ she whispered.
‘Why? Is it so wrong to say what we’ve both been thinking all night?’
‘You haven’t got a clue what I’m thinking, Ciro.’
‘Oh, I think I have a pretty good idea. I’ve been watching you very carefully and you cannot disguise the look in your eyes or the reaction of your body. I know you want me, Lily, just as I want you—and only a fool would deny that. I think I’ve wanted you ever since I saw you making pastry, wearing that cute, flowery little apron.’
Lily stared at him, her heart pounding. He was looking at her with an expression which was making her tingle with a delicious heat. Her skin felt as if it were too tight for her body—as if every pore of it were stretched like a drum—and suddenly she was scared. Her stepmother might have been motivated by self-interest, but everything she’d said about Ciro had been true, hadn’t it? He dated models and actresses. He was wealthy and powerful. He came from a different world.
She smiled. The kind of smile she’d have given anyone if they’d just bought her a delicious supper. ‘It’s been a long day,’ she said. ‘And I’m pretty tired. I think I’d like to go home now.’
‘Sure,’ he answered, noncommittally—not at all perturbed by her deliberate change of subject. He saw her relax as they both got to their feet but he didn’t feel one pang of guilt as he uttered the words he didn’t mean. Because he wasn’t planning to keep her here by force, was he? To take her upstairs to his suite and chain her to the huge bed. He was planning to kiss her, that was all. And after that, all her resistance would simply melt away—it was as inevitable as the rising of the moon which was gleaming silver in the sky above them.
This time, he didn’t take her through the hotel reception on their way to the car, but pointed to a way which was heavy with the scent of newly mown grass.
‘Where are we going?’ asked Lily apprehensively as they stepped away from the lighted area around the tables.
‘I thought that a woman who enjoys looking at the real world would enjoy a more scenic stroll to the car park, than walking through a busy reception area.’
Afterwards, of course, she berated herself for not having insisted on the more traditional route, but the illuminated trees he was gesturing towards looked too beautiful to resist. And the winding path was cleverly lit to make Lily feel as if she’d fallen into some magical woodland. Silvery light illuminated the smooth trunks of the beech trees and tall grasses waved their feathery golden fronds. If it had been any other time and with any other person, she might ha
ve taken more pleasure in the surreal beauty which surrounded her.
But as they walked along she found that she could scarcely breathe… She was so aware of him. Every single part of him. Her nerve-endings seemed to be screaming out to have him touch her. To follow up the unashamedly erotic promise of his words with his hands and his mouth.
She’d never been so glad—nor so sad—to see his gleaming sports car and as he bent to put his key in the lock of the passenger door he suddenly halted—as if someone had just told him to freeze.
‘Lily,’ he said softly.
Just that. Maybe if he’d said something clever or flirtatious, then she would have been left feeling cold. As it was, she just stared into his eyes, their darkness fathoms deep—and she was lost.
And Ciro D’Angelo must have instinctively known that because he made a throaty little murmur as he pulled her into his arms and began to kiss her.
CHAPTER FIVE
IT WAS a kiss like no other and it reeled Lily straight in. The first brush of Ciro’s lips against hers set off a sizzling reaction, which instantly made her want more. At first he teased her with the lightest of kisses and then he deepened it, provocatively licking his tongue inside her mouth—and it felt such a wickedly intimate penetration that her knees sagged.
Maybe that was the signal he’d been waiting for. The one which made him catch her by the waist while his other hand reached up to cushion her head, still kissing her with a thoroughness which took her breath away. She could feel his fingers impatiently weaving their way into her hair as he pushed her back up against the car. Suddenly, she was trapped, with no place to go—but surely this was a trap that no woman would want to escape?
Against her back was the coolness of the car and at her front was one hot and very aroused man. Her palms were splayed out over the smooth metal, she could feel the weight of his body pressing hard against hers—but not as hard as she wanted him. There was the sense that he was on fire, but was somehow managing to hold it back. As if he was deliberately banking up the flames of desire so that they smouldered away intensely.
And Lily couldn’t stop herself from responding. It had been a long time since she’d been kissed—and she realised that there was no feeling in the world like this. She’d forgotten that passion could swamp you with its powerful sweetness. Could make the rest of the world recede until it seemed completely inconsequential. His kiss made her troubles fade away until it was only her and him and a hunger which was building and building—making her body shake with longing.
She opened her mouth wider to give him better access and he moaned in response as if she had just done something very clever. I shouldn’t be doing this, she found herself thinking as his hand moved away from her hair to cup one aching breast. And I definitely shouldn’t be doing it with him. It took every bit of resolve she possessed, but somehow she tore her lips away from his and stared dazedly into his face.
Struggling to recover his breath, Ciro raked his gaze over her, taking in her darkened eyes and parted lips. The swollen thrust of her breasts strained towards him invitingly. He knew he should take her inside before things happened. Before they got so carried away that it would be as much as he could do to stop from unzipping himself and slipping aside her panties and just doing it to her there, right up against the side of the car.
He moved his hand inside the bodice of her dress where he could feel the peak of her hardened nipple against her bra and had to close his eyes briefly, seriously afraid that he might come there and then.
‘Let us go up to my suite,’ he said urgently as he drew his thumb over the sensitised nub and felt her shiver in response. ‘Before someone comes out and finds us and we get arrested for public indecency.’
The breath had caught in Lily’s throat and she felt as if someone were trying to tear her in two. On the one hand she had the sensation of Ciro playing with her swollen breast and the correspondingly acute shafts of pleasure which were shooting through her. While on the other…
She swallowed.
He was pressing his erection flagrantly against her belly! He was talking in a low and insistent voice about taking her up to his suite. And what would that involve? A dishevelled journey past the knowing eyes of the hotel staff, followed by a terrible walk of shame in the morning. What did she think she was doing?
With an effort she peeled her clammy palms away from the car and pushed them up against the solid wall of his chest.
‘I think you forget yourself,’ she said fiercely.
Ciro’s eyes narrowed and for a moment he thought she was joking—because surely she wasn’t pushing him away after the chemistry which had just combusted between them? But then he saw the mulish expression which had tightened her lips and it dawned on him that she might actually mean it.
‘You don’t want to make love with me?’ he questioned, his accent sounding far more pronounced than usual.
‘Make love?’ she snapped. ‘Is that how you describe doing it out of doors, up against a car?’
He thought her accusation a little unjust, considering that she had been a very willing participant—but his indignation was quickly replaced by another wave of lust. And suddenly he didn’t want her angry, with those darkened eyes spitting indignation at him. He wanted her soft and gentle again. He wanted to take her up to his suite and undress her very slowly. To lay her down on the bed and explore her body with his eyes and his hands and his mouth. He wanted to spread wide her beautiful thighs and slowly ease himself into her tight and waiting heat.
‘It is true that we got a little carried away,’ he said unevenly.
Lily shook her head, unable to believe that she’d behaved so badly—and after everything she’d vowed, too.
‘I th-think that’s something of an understatement,’ she said shakily, repositioning the pins in her hair with trembling fingers. ‘Now will you take me home, Ciro? Because if you won’t, then I shall just walk inside and order myself a cab.’
Ciro frowned with frustration tempered by a feeling of awe. Didn’t she realise that she was turning down a man reputed to be one of the best lovers in Italy? He thought about all the women who came onto him and shook his head in slight bemusement. It seemed that Lily Scott’s behaviour really did match her prim appearance—and that she had a steely morality about her.
‘Of course I will take you home,’ he said, pulling open the car door and meeting the look of suspicion which had narrowed her eyes. ‘Oh, please don’t worry,’ he added acidly. ‘I am not so desperate for a woman that I will leap on her after she has said no.’
Lily nodded, grateful she wasn’t going to have to hang around for a taxi—because what on earth would the hotel reception staff think?
‘Thank you,’ she said stiffly as she got into the car, wishing she didn’t care what other people thought—but the truth was, she did. Maybe it was a consequence of having been jilted and those awful days when she’d been at rock-bottom and not sure who knew that Tom had gone and who didn’t. When she’d thought that people were talking about her behind her back and judging her. Wondering what was so wrong with her that a man could just walk away and marry somebody else. That rejection had deeply affected her behaviour; it still did. Clipping shut her seat belt, she stared ahead.
Climbing into the driver’s seat beside her, Ciro closed the roof of the car, his mind spinning. Suddenly he felt at a loss—he, who was never at a loss. There’d never been a situation with a woman which he didn’t know how to handle—except maybe for the time he’d lost his virginity, aged fifteen. Actually, even on the night he had bade farewell to his innocence, he’d taken to sex like a duck to water. Hadn’t his thirty-year-old lover lain satiated on the bed afterwards, stroking his balls and telling him that he was going to make a lot of women very happy?
The crude progression of his thoughts did little to sate his sexual hunger but it did have the effect of bringing him to his senses. Wasn’t it a terrible reflection of the life he lived, that he was shocked when a woman
actually behaved like a lady for once? And didn’t part of him actually admire Lily’s stern rejection of his sexual advances?
He glanced at her, seeing the stony set of her profile as she stared fixedly ahead of her. ‘I have a feeling that you might be expecting some sort of apology for what just happened.’
‘It was a regrettable mistake,’ she said calmly. ‘That’s all.’
Ciro clutched the soft leather of the steering wheel, scarcely able to believe his ears, and if he hadn’t been so frustrated he might almost have laughed aloud. A regrettable mistake? Was she serious? Judging by the look on her face, it seemed as if she was. And wasn’t that a little hypocritical? Why, she’d hardly behaved like the Madonna herself, had she?
‘And are you always such an enthusiastic participant when making “regrettable mistakes”?’ he questioned coolly.
‘Perhaps I was led astray by someone with considerably more experience than me.’
Doubtless, she had meant the remark to be a criticism, but Ciro found himself giving a nod of satisfaction as he realised its implications. Of course he was more experienced than she was! Only an innocent or a very experienced woman would have behaved with such heart-stopping passion and then acted outraged—and she certainly wasn’t the latter.
His thoughts began to race—and in a previously unexplored direction. He had found the evening surprisingly enjoyable, apart from its frustrating conclusion. He had actually enjoyed talking to her. She wanted to take it slowly—well, what was wrong with that? Wasn’t that the way that people always used to behave, before the women’s movement and freely available contraception led to the expectation of instant gratification?
Imagine what it would be like to actually have to wait for a woman to go to bed with you. To have to quash the urgent tide of sexual desire which was swelling up inside you. Mightn’t that produce the most sensational love-making of all?
His car swung into the long gravel drive which led to the Grange and he sensed her tension as she looked up towards the upstairs windows, where a light was still on. Was the greedy stepmother still up and waiting for her? he wondered. And if that was the case, then maybe it was best that he had brought her home. Not good for either of their reputations if he’d brought her back tomorrow morning, still wearing the same dress.
A Tainted Beauty Page 5
