‘It’s very good, Nonno,’ Sebastiano answered for both of them, and Poppy was glad that he had, because she couldn’t have strung a sensible sentence together if she’d tried.
* * *
Stunned by the strength of his need to enclose Poppy in his arms and lay claim to her, Sebastiano released her and shoved his hands deep into his pockets. He’d been trying to distract her from her perceptive questioning by telling her the effect she had on him but he’d only served to turn himself on. Big time.
Which wasn’t like him. He never struggled to keep himself in check. He was always cool. Always in control. His grandfather would expect it. And yet here he was, about to ravish a woman he shouldn’t even want. A woman, who despite her claims to the contrary, wanted him just as much but who would no doubt behave like every other woman he had bedded and want more from him in the end.
Even knowing that, he wanted her with a hunger that floored him. He wanted to claim her and soak up her softness. Soak up her goodness.
He took a deep breath. At some point over the last few days she had gone from not being his type to being the only woman he could think about. Even the beautiful Daria Perone, a woman he had wanted to bed for a long time but whose path he had never crossed at the right time, paled in comparison to the woman at his side. A fact she had reluctantly conceded earlier in the evening when he had introduced her to Poppy.
Poppy had known something was up by the way Daria’s hungry eyes had lingered on him.
‘I thought you said there would be no ex-girlfriend’s here,’ Poppy had said with her proud little nose in the air after Daria had sauntered off to find more easy prey.
Sebastiano had laughed. ‘She’s not an ex.’
‘Oh.’ Realisation had made her innocent blue eyes sparkle. ‘Maybe she’s heard you give really good kiss-off presents.’
She had fingered the pearl happily nestled between her round breasts, and he had wanted to pull her in close and never let her go.
Right now he’d like to end the evening early and take her to his bed. Stamp out the hollow feeling in his heart with her sweet body underneath his.
But his nonno had other ideas.
‘Wait here,’ his grandfather said, nodding to the musicians, who automatically stopped playing. ‘I have an announcement that will make you happy, nipote mio.’
Sebastiano felt the blood move through his veins in a slow, dull thud when his grandfather took the microphone. Surely his grandfather wasn’t going to make the announcement that he was going to take over CE here, tonight?
‘Friends. Family. We are here tonight to celebrate l’amore della mia vita.’ His grandfather gestured to Evelina who had come to stand beside him. He gave her a soft kiss and joined their hands together.
‘What did he say?’ Poppy whispered.
‘The love of his life,’ Sebastiano rasped.
He felt Poppy sigh beside him and his gut clenched. Yes, she would definitely want more from a man than he had it in him to give.
His grandfather waxed lyrical about his wife for a few more minutes to the avid enjoyment of the crowd. Then he held up his hand, his expression serious. ‘And of course, most of you know that fifteen years ago on this night our family was dealt a cruel blow that we have struggled to overcome. It is fair to say that the intervening years have not been easy. But tonight...’ His moist eyes scanned the crowd and locked with Sebastiano’s. ‘Tonight I want to create new, happier memories for all of us. So it is with great pleasure that I announce that my grandson, Sebastiano Castiglione, will be taking over as CEO of Castiglione Europa. Effective immediately.’
Sebastiano heard the applause and well wishes from the crowd but it sounded as if it came from far away. He had expected the announcement of his appointment to be more along the lines of a memo. A public statement written up by his PR people in a way that created little fanfare. The last thing he wanted was to be the centre of attention. Not tonight. Not when it should have been his father taking over this position instead of him.
Taking the dais to thunderous applause, he said a few words about his grandfather’s non-existent retirement plans that lightened the air considerably, then he signalled to the musicians to start playing again.
Needing a drink, he raised his hand to those nearby in a gesture of thanks and made his way to the bar, the guests he passed giving him little more than a pat on the back and a, ‘Well done, congratulations’.
‘Scotch. Neat,’ he grated at the hapless bartender who had a goofy grin on his face. The man’s grin slipped a little as he quickly did what he was asked. In the blink of an eye, the drink was gone and Sebastiano slapped the now empty glass back down on the bar. ‘Another.’
‘Sebastiano...’ Not realising that Poppy had followed him, he glanced at her. ‘Sebastiano, your parents died today?’
‘Please spare me the mini-violin, bella. I’m over it.’
She watched him, her blue eyes frankly appraising. ‘Does anyone actually believe that when you say it?’ she asked softly, sympathy leaching out of every one of her beautiful pores.
‘Don’t push, Poppy. Another,’ he said to the hovering bartender.
Her mouth firmed into a stubborn line. ‘Why are you drinking Scotch if you’re so over it?’
‘I like the taste.’
‘Sebastiano...’
Deciding he needed air as well as Scotch, he pushed away from the bar. ‘Excuse me, would you? There’s someone I have to talk to.’
Moving past her, Sebastiano made his way out of the ballroom taking the stone steps down to the leafy garden. He had no idea where he was going, but being alone seemed like a good idea right now.
CHAPTER TEN
POPPY CAME AWAKE with a start and pushed herself into a sitting position. The sofa Sebastiano had slept on the night before was possibly the most uncomfortable piece of furniture she had ever fallen asleep on. Not that she had meant to fall asleep.
‘Why aren’t you in bed?’
She glanced across the room to find the cause of her disturbance silhouetted in the doorway. ‘I was waiting for you.’
Sebastiano stepped into the room, closing the door behind him, enveloping them in semi-darkness, the floor lamp Poppy had put on the only light source in the room.
He strolled towards her with the loose-limbed grace of a professional marauder, his bow-tie swinging from his collar, his jacket tossed carelessly over his shoulder.
Dumping the jacket on a chair, he made his way to the drinks cabinet. ‘Why?’
Poppy’s heart thudded heavily inside her chest as he poured himself a drink. ‘I wanted to make sure you were all right. It’s what I would do if we were in a normal relationship.’
‘Only we’re not in a normal relationship,’ he pointed out.
Poppy pushed her hair back from her face impatiently. ‘Why do you get to pull that card out when it suits you but I can’t?’
His lips twisted as if she amused him. ‘Because I make the rules, intern, not you.’ He tossed ice into the glass, not looking at her. ‘You should go to bed.’
The fact that he’d called her ‘intern’ in his deep, sexy voice set her insides ablaze. There was something so intimate and affectionate in the way he said it, although right now he probably hadn’t meant it to sound either of those. ‘And you should stop drinking,’ she offered pleasantly.
‘Where’s the fun in that?’
Poppy stood up and smoothed her hand down her beautiful dress. ‘Are you very drunk?’
His eyes skimmed her. ‘Not nearly enough that I want to listen to your “good little girlfriend” act.’
Poppy pursed her lips. ‘How about my bad one?’
His smile didn’t quite meet his eyes. ‘Now that one has potential.’
Poppy remembered everything he had said to her downstairs, every seductively appealing word he had uttered to prevent her from asking probing questions, and warned herself not to fall for his pretences again. The man was a ruthless shark, after all. ‘Isn’t your grandfathe
r’s announcement of you taking over CE supposed to have made you happy?’
Sebastiano smiled at her. ‘You know, that’s the strangest thing. It didn’t.’ He downed another finger of Scotch. ‘Go figure.’
She crossed the floor and stood in front of him, her arms folded defensively across her chest.
‘I was really angry with you for walking off and leaving me before but now...’ She sighed. ‘If I’d known about your parents I could have—’
‘What?’ His blank eyes met hers. ‘Dressed me in flannel pyjamas and brewed me a pot of tea? Isn’t that what you English do when you feel sorry for someone?’
Her mouth settled into a stubborn line. ‘Maybe it would help if you talked about your feelings, Sebastiano, instead of pretending you don’t have any.’
‘You know, I spent most of last night wondering what you wear to bed and I couldn’t decide if it would be silk.’ He took a long slug of Scotch. ‘Or cotton.’
‘Don’t,’ Poppy said warningly. ‘Don’t pretend you want me to distract me. That trick might have worked once but only a fool would fall for it twice.’
‘And you’re no fool, are you, Poppy?’
‘Sebastiano...’
‘You’re really very cute when you’re riled. It turns me on immensely. In fact, everything about you turns me on, bella. Especially in that dress. Por Dio, but you look hot. Deliciously, sensually hot.’
Even though she knew he was toying with her, Poppy felt the warm flush of desire flow through her. Clearly her hormones did not require honesty as a prerequisite to arousal, and wishing it were otherwise wasn’t going to change anything.
Especially since she suspected that Sebastiano’s superficial guise was a way to keep the world at bay just as her sarcasm often achieved the same result. In that they were alike.
Disconcerted by that observation, she glanced up to find him watching her with a hunting stillness that caused her breath to back up in her lungs. The tension in his large frame was palpable and her pulse raced.
She shivered, doing her best to suppress the desperate ache that had bloomed deep inside her. Right now she could walk away from this fake arrangement unscathed. It was important that she remember that because, while her heart might think that throwing herself at Sebastiano was a great idea, her sensible side was of the opposite opinion.
Taking a deep breath, she zoned in on her sensible side. Anything was better than being at the mercy of her more dangerous, libidinous one that wanted nothing more than for her to throw herself at him.
‘So is this what you normally do on the anniversary of your parents’ deaths?’ she queried lightly. ‘Get drunk?’
Sebastiano held up his half-empty Scotch glass like a proud Boy Scout presenting a shiny new badge. Then he turned to refill it. ‘I think your judgmental side is showing again, Miss Connolly.’
Ignoring his dig, Poppy moved closer. ‘Wouldn’t it be nicer to be with other people on a night like this? People who care about you? Like your family? A girlfriend?’
‘Inviting a woman to my home for anything other than sex would undoubtedly give her the wrong message. I don’t ever want someone to imagine that I might be her next meal ticket.’
Poppy rolled her eyes. ‘I hate to point out the obvious, Sebastiano, but you’ve basically offered to be mine.’
‘Ah, but not for life, bella mia.’
It was both a statement and a warning. A warning she’d do well to heed. She was merely a guest in this extraordinarily opulent land, not a resident. And that was a role she definitely knew how to play because no one had ever wanted her around for long.
Usually she would throw out a deflecting line about now to lighten the atmosphere, but she couldn’t muster one up right now, because she knew this strong, capable man was hurting and all she wanted to do was ease his pain. ‘I know what it’s like to lose a parent, Sebastiano,’ she said softly. ‘I know how it hurts. How it makes you feel lost. Scared.’
Sebastiano poured himself another drink and settled back against the cabinet, watching the play of tender emotions cross Poppy’s beautiful, unguarded face, pity being the prime emotion, and the last one he wanted to see.
He wasn’t sure if she was aware of it but her tongue kept darting out to moisten her lips as if she was preparing for his kiss; his muscles automatically drew tight at the thought.
The best thing she could do for the both of them was to take herself off to bed and he knew exactly how to send her there. ‘But do you know what it’s like to cause their deaths?’ he rasped, the words burning like vinegar in his throat.
Her stunned eyes met his and there was a touch of sadness in their depths. ‘Sometimes I did wonder if my mother chose drugs over me because I wasn’t nice enough,’ she admitted softly. ‘But, no, I don’t in the way I suspect you’re talking about. What happened?’
Unprepared for her to take his disclosure with such equanimity, Sebastiano answered before he thought better of it. ‘I was a selfish little bastard who wanted to spend time with his new girlfriend rather than go on a holiday with my family, that’s what happened.’ He let out a harsh laugh. ‘What I didn’t realise at the time was that my new friends were more interested in my money and social connections, and when we were caught buying drugs my parents had to drive to Rome to collect me. They were upset, disappointed, but I was too self-righteous and embarrassed to apologise. Some time after that my father lost control of the car on the icy roads.’ He swallowed heavily at the memory. ‘I walked away unscathed. They didn’t walk away at all.’
The blood pounded in his head and he hadn’t realised she had moved so close to him until her scent drifted towards him. ‘But you didn’t walk away unscathed,’ she murmured. ‘You carry the pain here.’ She laid her palm against his chest, directly over his heart. ‘Don’t you?’
Sebastiano swore softly, his emotions boiling over inside him. The deep core of ice he’d encased himself in for so long preventing him from whispering that she was right. He did carry the pain of that day in his heart and he never let himself forget what a little bastardo he had been.
He stepped back from her and came up against the drinks cabinet. ‘I don’t want your pity, Poppy.’
She stepped closer. So close he could see that betraying pulse beating like a trapped bird inside her throat. ‘I wasn’t offering it.’
His gaze lingered on her lips before rising to hers again, and her breath gave that betraying little hitch that told him she was as aroused as he was right now.
Dio, how was that possible when he had just been talking about his parents.
His muscles drew tight with the need to touch her. His mind and body were at war about the right thing to do, and the searing-hot, blistering need to make her his.
His?
He shook his head to clear it. ‘You should go to bed,’ he advised silkily. The sooner she was there, the safer she would be from the darkness that wanted to engulf him.
Her nostrils flared as if she had just scented danger. But still she didn’t move. ‘I will if you stop drinking.’
If he stopped drinking he’d do more than wonder if she was wearing the thong he had bought to match the gown.
Turning his back to her, he poured another finger of Scotch and then swung back to lean against the cabinet, raising his glass in a self-mocking toast. Before it touched his lips, she reached out and took hold of it, staying it in mid-air.
Adrenalin fuelled by sexual arousal turned his voice rough. ‘You need to go to bed, Poppy.’
When he didn’t release the glass to her, she brought her other hand up and slowly peeled his fingers away one by one. Sebastiano’s heart beat a primal rhythm in his blood, heat and need turning his muscles hard.
‘Or what?’ she asked, her voice low, the sexy cadence scoring his skin.
In one swift move Sebastiano straightened to his full height, turned her and backed her against the cabinet. ‘Or I’ll ruin you for any other man.’
Her breath hitched again, he
r gaze on his mouth. ‘Maybe your grandfather is right, Sebastiano. Maybe it’s time to create new memories tonight.’ Her blue eyes looked as luminous as the pearl nestled between her pert breasts. ‘Memories that conjure up pleasure rather than pain.’
‘You want pleasure, bella mia, I’ve got pleasure.’
He jerked her against him, the impact of her soft body against his like drinking water after trawling through a hot desert for months on end. The press of her round breasts against his chest shut down his reasonable, cool brain and replaced it with a greedy hunger that pushed at the limits of his civility.
She stared up at him, her hands trembling as they slowly pulled the short lengths of his bowtie from around his neck. ‘Sometimes you look at me as if you know how to give me more pleasure than I’ve ever experienced in my whole life,’ she said on a breathless rush. ‘I want that. I need that.’
A low growl rumbled out of his chest at her admission, and he scattered the pins in her hair when he fisted his hands in it, bringing her mouth to his. He kissed her the way he had wanted to kiss her all night. Hard and deep. ‘Dio, I want you,’ he murmured. ‘So much I ache.’
She moaned, her hands twisting around his neck, her hips lifting against his as if seeking something just out of reach.
Bending his knees a little, he pressed his erection between the juncture of her thighs, rewarded for his efforts when she opened her mouth wider, her tongue tangling with his.
Driven by a need he could neither explain nor resist, Sebastiano kissed his way down the tender skin of her neck. They were both unattached, consenting adults who wanted each other, and he was done fighting something that had started the minute he’d laid eyes on her.
She moaned softly, her hands moving over his chest, his sides, his back as she tried to shift even closer.
‘Poppy.’ Sebastiano swore under his breath as the need to be inside her drove all else from his mind. ‘I have to have you.’
‘Yes, yes.’ Her urgency drove his own and he released the snap holding her bodice in place, letting the twin sides fall so that only the iridescent pearl lay between her exposed breasts. Cupping her, he brushed the tips with his thumbs before leaning down to fasten his lips around one proud peak, laving it with his tongue.
The Italian's Virgin Acquisition Page 12
