by Abby Green
Not understanding this visceral feeling he effortlessly evoked within her and hating him for it, Valentina suddenly flew at him with her hands balled to fists. She took him by surprise and he fell back against the door with a thump. His arms came around her to protect them both just as she registered that his chest was like steel under her hands. And, in the same instance, that she wanted to unfurl her hands and run them up over his muscles and not beat him.
Valentina sprang back, breaking his hold, aghast at her bubbling emotions. She was breathing hard and she looked up at Gio, who straightened up carefully from the door, hands behind him. His polo shirt strained over his hard chest. He was breathing hard too, his chest rising and falling. Tension was even thicker now between them along that ever-present crackle of electricity.
She was suddenly desperate to cling on to something, anything that could keep a distance between them, because for a moment it had fallen away. Dissolved in a rush of heat. Dissolved by the shocking extent of her awareness of him.
Valentina turned away for a moment to try and collect herself when she felt as if she was coming apart and then turned back, her control flimsy. ‘You might not have killed him but you’re responsible.’
A stillness seemed to surround Gio now, making Valentina even more nervous. When he spoke he sounded weary. ‘And how long are you going to keep punishing me for that? Don’t you think I’ve been punishing myself for it?’
Valentina tried to ignore the way something in his voice caused an ache inside her. She emitted a hoarse laugh and put out a hand to encompass their general surroundings. ‘You call this punishment? Living in luxury? Making millions? Cavorting on yachts with celebrities?’
Gio’s face got even starker and inwardly Valentina quivered. She had to concede uncomfortably that it had been some time since he’d been pictured on the hedonistic social scene. It had all ended abruptly after those couple of years, when he’d returned to Sicily and immersed himself in his racetrack. He hadn’t even been pictured with a woman since then.
He came closer to her and she fought not to move back, every muscle screaming with tension. She felt as if she’d woken a slumbering lion.
‘For two years I lived like that and it was no fun.’
‘That’s not the impression you gave to the world.’ Valentina ignored the little voice of conscience that reminded her that Gio hadn’t looked happy in any of the photos she’d seen of him in the press. He’d looked intense, as if driven by something.
Now Gio emitted a curt laugh that made Valentina flinch. He put a hand through his hair and stalked away from her to stand looking out the window with his back to her. Finally Valentina could breathe again. Every line of his body was taut. Shoulders broad, leading down to slim hips in low-riding worn jeans. Even now, in the midst of this high emotion, her attention was wandering, gaze captivated by his perfect backside, those powerful thighs and long legs.
Disgusted with herself, she swallowed back a curse and crossed her arms and lifted her gaze to the back of that dark head. And something inexplicably tender lanced her. She didn’t have time to question it before Gio started talking in a cool voice.
‘I ran away from here, something I’m not proud of.’
He turned around then and Valentina sucked in a breath at the bleakness on his face, in his eyes. ‘If I could have been the one to die, do you not think I wished it a million times? Every time I woke up in the morning? I knew what I had done … I know. If we hadn’t been friends, if I hadn’t badgered him into coming out that night, if I hadn’t had that damaged horse at my stables …’ He broke off and then continued huskily. ‘Do you not think I know that Mario’s death was my fault? If I hadn’t been arrogant enough to assume I could tame the most untameable of horses … Mario wouldn’t have wanted to try himself, to prove me wrong.’
Bitterness laced Gio’s voice now. ‘I came from a life of excess I hadn’t even earned, from a family connected only by their disconnectedness. Mario came from everything that was good and real.’
His eyes seemed to be skewering Valentina to the spot. She couldn’t move. His voice roughened. ‘The night Mario died … I went back to the palazzo and put Black Star down, even though he was physically uninjured. He was untameable, there was something wrong in his head, or genes, but I’d let him live. Me. He should have been put down months before, when that jockey had died.’
Gio’s mouth was impossibly flat. ‘It took another death before I saw through my sheer arrogance. When I left here I wanted to die too. I wanted to kill myself but that would have been too easy, too self-serving. So I did everything imaginable to court death, without it actually being by my hand.
‘I jumped out of planes, I climbed impossible mountains, I went to war-torn regions in Africa—ostensibly for charity purposes but secretly hoping I’d find myself a target of some drug-crazed faction.’
Something cold went down Valentina’s spine when she thought of the cavalier way in which Gio had played with his life.
But he wasn’t finished. His mouth twisted in evident self-disgust. ‘Instead I found myself being lauded as a champion of philanthropists, and became a pin-up for extreme-sport enthusiasts. So then I immersed myself in the debauched and shallow world of the truly idle and rich. Because that’s what I deserved.’
He laughed curtly. ‘After all, isn’t that what I was? I’d never done a decent day’s work in school and yet Mario, with infinitely less resources, had succeeded against all the odds. Do you not think that I know how much Mario’s life was worth over mine?’
Valentina felt as if she’d just been punched in the gut with his words. She even put a hand there as if she could stop pain from blooming outwards. She couldn’t say anything though, too stunned, too shocked….
Gio continued in a flat voice. ‘The days were meaningless and morphed into one another, interspersed with whatever my next desperate flirtation with death would be. I lost and won back my entire fortune in the space of twenty-four hours many times over. One night in a casino I was so drunk I could barely see straight, but I was about to use Misfit as collateral in a bet with a renowned and very ruthless gambler. He’d been waiting for his moment to get my horse.
‘And right then, I truly didn’t care about Misfit, I didn’t care about anything. I’d slept with a woman the night before and couldn’t have even told you her name. She was just one of many.’
Valentina was silent. In shock. Not disgusted. Everything about him spoke of his own self-recrimination. She found herself inexplicably understanding his need to lose himself in something, anything.
Gio’s mouth tightened, even as one corner turned up imperceptibly. ‘It was in that moment, as I was about to let everything I’d ever cared about go, that I heard Mario’s voice as clearly as if he were standing here now, in this room. He just said, Enough. And somehow … I got up and walked away.’
He looked directly at her. ‘So no, those two years were not fun. I was living the empty life of an even emptier hedonist. I was half alive but not as dead as I wanted to be.’
Gio’s words sank in and choked Valentina’s vocal chords. She believed his wish to die; she’d seen it on his face that day at the graveside and she’d welcomed it at the time because she had wanted to hurt him as she hurt. Yet only now she was realising how etched into her memory it had always been.
Helpless tears pricked her eyes at the thought of Mario’s presence coming to Gio like that. She believed that too, because she’d felt him around her at certain times. It’s exactly what he would have said to Gio.
Overcome and floundering badly at Gio’s emotionally stark confession that gave her no room to attack him, Valentina put her hands to her face to hide her blurring vision as if that could hide the emotion that was rising like a dam breaking deep inside her. She faintly heard a sound and felt Gio’s presence come closer and suddenly Valentina could do nothing but obey a deep need and instinctively she reached for Gio, wrapping her arms blindly around his waist. Within seconds she was
sobbing into his chest.
For a long moment he did nothing and Valentina knew she was clinging to him like a limpet but she couldn’t stop it. And then slowly, his arms came around her and he was holding her so tight she thought her bones might crush. She cried for a long time, until little hiccups were coming out of her mouth. She’d cried for Mario so many times she’d lost count, but this was infinitely different. There was something cathartic about this.
When the hiccups had stopped and Valentina’s breaths evened out again, she felt wrung out but also very aware of being held so tightly in Gio’s arms. Her breasts were crushed to his belly and her nipples were tight and hard against the lace of her bra. Sensitised and tingling.
The material of Gio’s shirt was damp under her wet cheek and she could feel the delineation of hard muscle, the rise and fall of his chest. His heartbeat was slightly fast under her cheek, his scent musky and earthy. And down lower, where her hips were all but welded to his hard thighs, Valentina could feel his arousal pressing into her soft belly.
This realisation didn’t shame her or disgust her. It excited her, and thrilled her. She didn’t want to move, or breathe. Didn’t want to break the spell that seemed to hover over them. It was as if the intense flood of emotion had washed something acrid away.
Finally, reluctantly, Valentina pulled back within Gio’s arms. She couldn’t stay welded to him forever.
His hold slackened fractionally and she looked up. His face was stark, intent. She could still feel him, rigid against her, and she wanted to move her hips. Her sex tingled in response and her heart thumped because she knew she wanted this man. No other man had ever managed to touch or arouse this very secret part of her.
Gio lifted his arms and brought his hands to Valentina’s face, cupping her jaw, his thumbs wiping away the moisture from her cheeks. She knew she must look a sight, and Gio’s shirt had to be sodden from her tears and runny nose. But she didn’t care. A fierce burgeoning desire was rising within her, something which had been there before but had been put on ice for seven years.
For a long time it had been illicit and forbidden, guilty. But from the moment she’d seen him again it had flamed to life. Yet the contradiction had duelled within her: how could she hate him and want him at the same time? But now those questions faded in her head. Hate felt like a much more indefinable thing and the desire was there, stronger than hate, rushing through her blood and making her feel alive.
She lifted a hand and touched Gio’s hard jaw. He clenched it against her hand. Desire thickened the air around them, unmistakable. As if questioning it, Gio looked down at her, a small frown between his eyes. ‘Valentina?’
It was the same look he’d given her the other night when she’d exposed herself and she understood it now. He’d been asking the question then, unsure of what she’d been telling him with her body language. The knowledge was heady. He wanted her.
One of Valentina’s fingers touched Gio’s bottom lip, tracing its full sensuous outline. Words were rising up within her, she couldn’t keep them back. ‘Gio … kiss me.’ She’d wanted this, ached for this, for so long.
It was only after an interminable moment of nothing happening that she looked up into Gio’s eyes and saw something like torture in their dark green depths. He shook his head. ‘This is not a good idea. You don’t want this, not really.’
Gio heard himself say the words and felt his erection straining against his jeans, against her soft curves. He’d never felt harder in his life and it had nothing to do with being celibate for five years. He wanted to kiss and plunder this woman before she changed her mind but he knew he couldn’t. She hated him already; she would despise him for ever for this.
Valentina’s gaze narrowed on his. A light was dawning in her eyes. He braced himself for the moment when she would pull herself free and demand to know what the hell he was doing.
And then she said, ‘Damn you, Gio Corretti, kiss me.’
Had she really said those words? Valentina looked up at Gio, the question screaming in her head, Why won’t he just kiss me? She could feel his erection, even harder now, and imagined it straining against his jeans, against her. She felt damp heat moisten between her legs. Desperation wasn’t far away and suddenly it hit her: she was a warm female body who had all but thrown herself at him. Few men wouldn’t respond to that.
Horrified to think that she’d so badly misread the situation, very belatedly she tried to move, to get free of Gio’s embrace, but suddenly his hands tightened on her jaw, fingers reaching around to her neck.
Gio had had a moment of doubt when she’d uttered those words. Damn you, Gio Corretti, kiss me. He thought he’d been hallucinating. But then she hadn’t moved away; she’d looked up at him with a distinctive light of determination in her eyes. And more than that, he’d seen the stark need in those amber depths. Unmistakable. The same need he felt right now.
But then he’d seen the flicker of doubt and uncertainty cross her face. Clearly she thought he didn’t want her when such a thought was laughable. Couldn’t she feel his need straining against her? Gio knew a stronger man would take the opportunity to push her back. A more moral man would tell her to go and not take advantage of this heightened moment. But he was not that man. He’d been damned a long time ago and he wanted Valentina.
All he could think of now was of the lovers she must have already had and jealousy burnt up his spine. A woman as beautiful as her, the kind of woman who had just demanded he kiss her—she wasn’t innocent. And he couldn’t bear to think of her with anyone else. He wanted her to want only him. Think of only him.
And she did want him. A fierce exultant force rushed through him and it was so strong that Gio had to control it with effort. She was moving in earnest now, trying to get away and a fierce primitive force surged through him, making his hands tighten. He growled softly, ‘Where do you think you’re going?’
Valentina’s breath hitched and she looked into his eyes. Gio was responding now; his eyes were slumberous and blazing. His need was laid bare for her to see, as if she hadn’t already felt it in his body, and while one part of her exulted, another part contracted. Suddenly she felt out of her depth.
‘I … I changed my mind,’ she said almost hopefully, even as her treacherous body was responding to the heat in Gio’s eyes, the way his body felt next to hers.
He shook his head slowly and Valentina felt herself being mesmerised. ‘It’s too late for that. You asked to be kissed and so I’m going to kiss you.’
His hands were tight around her jaw, fingers caressing the back of her head. Valentina felt completely exposed and vulnerable as Gio’s head started to descend. Intense flutters of excitement and anticipation shot through her abdomen and she had the stark realisation of how much she’d always longed for this moment. She wasn’t strong enough to pull away and she wasn’t sure Gio would even let her go.
There was a feral intensity in his eyes as his head dipped closer and closer and, like a coward, Valentina let her eyes drift shut. When his mouth finally touched hers, the sensation of those hard sensual contours was so exquisite against her sensitive lips that she had to grab on to his T-shirt to hold on.
His touch was hard, but gentle. Exploratory. Valentina was aware of his hands moving, thumbs trailing across her jaw as his hands went to the back of her head, where he found and pulled out her hairband. She could feel her hair falling around her shoulders, and one of Gio’s big hands cradled the back of her head, angling her so that he could move his mouth on hers with lazy expert sensuality.
Valentina only realised she wasn’t breathing when Gio coaxed her mouth to open to his, his tongue touching the seam of her lips. When she drew in a breath the full reality of kissing Gio Corretti hit her like a steam train. His scent hit her nostrils, even muskier now, laden with the promise of something so carnal that her toes curled.
His hand tightened on her head, and his other hand found its way to her back, pulling her into him, arching her spine. And it wasn�
�t enough. As their tongues touched, Valentina pressed even closer.
The sensation of tongues touching and tasting, exploring, was so exquisite that Valentina never wanted it to stop. Everything was heightened. Valentina was aware of how hard his arousal felt, pressing into her. Restlessly, her hips moved, and as if in answer Gio’s hand went to her hip, where he flattened it across the small of her back, pressing her in even tighter.
When she felt the faintly calloused skin of the palm of his hand against the bare skin just above the waist of her jeans she only knew that she wanted more.
His hand drifted up to her bra strap and Valentina’s breasts seemed to swell and tighten in response, she broke away from the kiss. She opened her eyes to look up into those dark green depths. Her mouth felt swollen, bruised. Her heart was thundering and she felt dizzy. She realised that she was on her tippy-toes; her arms were tight around Gio’s neck and she was so close to his mouth that their breaths intermingled. If she could have climbed into his skin right then she would have done it without hesitation.
Gio’s hand was spread flat across Valentina’s smooth back; her skin was like silk. Her bra strap was a provocative inducement to just flip it open, slide his hands around and cup those firm swells. His whole body ached with want.
Somehow he managed to get out, ‘Do you want this?’
Valentina was aware of what Gio was asking. This wouldn’t end with just this kiss. If she said yes, it would be everything. All of her. There were voices in her head urging her to stop, think. But they were dim. Stronger was the urgent primal desire she felt. This man and this moment was all she could focus on. She wanted him with a hunger that was completely alien and new to her, and she couldn’t walk away from it. Right then she seriously doubted the ability of her legs to hold her up anyway. Gio was all but holding her up.
Slowly Valentina nodded her head. ‘Yes, I want this.’
