by Heidi Rice
‘You remind me a great deal of your mother, Edie. She also had a taste for powerful men and knew how to use it to her best advantage.’
I watched the moon glow over the bay, the lights of Villefranche in the distance twinkling, and forced myself to ignore the feeling of inadequacy that had assailed me. How stupid, to let something so innocuous ruin my happy buzz. It had been a throwaway comment, which I had taken far too much to heart, because I was over-sensitive about my mother’s reputation.
I hadn’t mentioned the comment to Dante. Or anyone else. Because I didn’t want to appear unprofessional, and I certainly didn’t want to prejudice Dante’s decision about whom he invited to invest in his company because of our fling and my own insecurities.
The bubble of regret expanded another inch.
The fling that was going to end tonight.
I swallowed, trying not to let the feeling of ennui—of sadness—get the better of me. I’d always known this would be a few days of bliss. Dante hadn’t promised more than a quick fling and I hadn’t asked him for more. Which was for the best, I now realised. Because, even after only five days as his lover, I knew I was sinking too deep into this relationship. Wanting things from it that I knew I could never have.
Already, I was consumed with anticipation every time I saw him. I reacted with complete abandon to even the slightest show of affection or attention from him. And I had become utterly addicted to his lovemaking.
A blush warmed my cheeks despite the sea breeze, as I recalled the shameless way I had responded the night before. To be fair, that wasn’t entirely my fault, I added to myself. Dante, I had discovered, could be an absolute devil.
Last night, on the beach, almost as if he had sensed my loss of confidence after my encounter with Elise, he had worked me into a frenzy of need and longing, until all I could focus on, and all I could think about, was him.
Using his tongue and his teeth in ways he already knew would drive me wild, he had given me mini-orgasm after mini-orgasm without ever giving me enough relief to completely satisfy me. Eventually I had been a quivering bundle of raw nerves and desperate needs. I had cried myself hoarse, literally begging him to thrust deep enough and hard enough to release me from the sensual torture—and, when he finally had, the orgasm had been so powerful I was pretty sure I had actually passed out.
But it was the way he had washed me so tenderly afterwards, and insisted on carrying me back through the gardens and all the way into our suite of rooms, that had all but destroyed me.
I’d fallen into a deep sleep—the dreams of belonging, of safety and security all the more devastating when I had woken this morning with his strong body wrapped around me and he’d made love to me again with a ruthless tenderness which I had convinced myself for one bright shining moment meant much more than it did.
I heard the outer door to our suite open and Dante’s footsteps on the carpeting.
My heart leapt into my throat on cue as I turned and watched him walk towards me. He looked dashing and debonair in the tailored tuxedo, reminding me of the man I’d met that first night who had terrified me on some visceral level.
He terrified me even more now, I realised, because I couldn’t seem to control the erratic beat of my heart as he gathered me into his arms.
‘At last, the work is finally finished, the investors are in place and we can celebrate,’ he murmured, nuzzling my neck, raising goosebumps that rioted over my collarbone and arrowed into my sex—which had already begun to melt at the sight of him, readying itself for the erection that pressed insistently against my belly.
‘That’s wonderful,’ I said, trying to smile, and swallow down the bubble that only got larger at the thought that we only had tonight now, before this affair would be over.
He drew back and held out my arms, his gaze becoming dark and intense as it roamed over the satin ball gown Nina had had made for me especially for tonight’s occasion. ‘You look absolutely stunning,’ he said.
The familiar blush flared across my cleavage. He never forgot to compliment me, to make his appreciation and his approval known. And I realised I had become completely addicted to that too. My skin burned at the reminder that Nina had insisted I wear nothing under the gown.
‘So do you,’ I said, letting my gaze roam over him in turn. He really did look magnificent in the dark evening wear. I imagined the scars that lurked beneath it, which I had explored with my fingers and lips countless times now. They were a testament, just as the suit was, to how hard he’d worked to escape the degradation of his upbringing. A stupid spurt of pride at his achievements worked its way up my torso, even though I’d had nothing whatsoever to do with them.
‘Hey?’ He lifted my chin and met my gaze. ‘Is something wrong?’
‘No, nothing,’ I lied easily enough. I didn’t want to mar our last night together with my ridiculous emotions. ‘I just wish we could stay and celebrate here,’ I said boldly, which wasn’t a lie.
He let out a hoarse chuckle. ‘You and me both.’
He gripped my fingers and gave them a squeeze. ‘But I’m afraid we’re going to have to make an appearance. I wouldn’t want that beautiful gown to go to waste...’ His pupils darkened as he led me towards the door, his thumb rubbing my palm possessively. ‘Before I rip it off you,’ he added, sending the familiar shiver of anticipation through me.
I let out a strained laugh as we walked down the wide sweeping staircase towards the ballroom. People turned to stare, and I had the weirdest sensation of being like a princess at a ball—young and desperately in lust with the handsome prince every other woman here wanted but couldn’t have, because he had chosen me.
The sensation of acceptance, of belonging, was fanciful and fleeting for sure, but still I rejoiced in the renewed leap in my heartbeat.
Why not enjoy tonight, and worry about the struggle to keep my emotions in check tomorrow, when I returned to Belle Rivière—and reality intruded again?
‘Who did you decide to offer investor status to in the end?’ I asked, as Dante took a glass of champagne off the tray of a passing waiter and handed it to me.
‘Devon O’Reilly and the consortium from Le Grange,’ Dante said, mentioning an Irish racehorse owner and a group of hedge fund managers, both of whom I’d recommended. There was only one other person I’d recommended.
‘Not Elise Durand?’ I asked, surprised but also stupidly pleased. I tried to quell the trickle of pleasure that she hadn’t been invited to invest after all, because it made me feel petty and insecure.
‘No, not Elise,’ he said, his brows lowering as he watched me over his glass. ‘Although it might have been nice if I had found out about her unsuitability from you, instead of Collette.’
‘I...I don’t understand.’
I lowered my glass from my lips, scared to take another sip in case I choked on the emotion currently rising up my torso.
Had he found out about Elise’s comment to me from Collette? And if he had, why was he so angry about it, because I could see the temper swirling in his eyes?
‘She insulted you, Edie,’ he said, giving me the answer to a question I had been too scared to ask. ‘Do you really think I would want to do business with her after that? I had her escorted off the estate as soon as I found out. And I intend to make it known that I refused to do business with her or her company.’
‘I’m not sure she meant it as an insult,’ I said, not sure why I was defending her. Because it seemed very obvious to me now that’s exactly what she had intended—to undermine and belittle me. And of course she had succeeded, tapping into my insecurities, my feelings of inadequacy with a simple offhand remark. But what seemed so much more dangerous now was Dante’s reaction. Because he hadn’t just spotted the insult before me, he had jumped to my defence. And was clearly furious on my behalf. Enough to base an important business decision on it. It suddenly felt like too much. Not
just his decision to defend me and protect me, and do something as extreme as having Elise Durand kicked off the estate, but also my reaction to that response.
I had tried so hard not to fall in love with this man. And I’d succeeded, despite the violent intensity of his lovemaking, despite the respect he showed me at every turn, despite the way he had cherished and complimented me. But I could feel myself slipping—no, crashing—over the edge as he stared back at me now with outrage and annoyance, at me as much as Elise, etched on his face.
His emotions were rarely so unguarded, and that unsettled me too. That he would let me see how much Elise’s insult had angered him.
‘Don’t ever apologise for or excuse other people’s prejudices again,’ he said, or rather commanded, and just like that I felt my heart drop like a stone. Wow, I really was a hopeless case, I realised vaguely, as I tumbled into the abyss—unsure of where I would land but unable to break my fall.
How could I be falling in love with this man, not because of his sensitive nurturing qualities, not because of his protectiveness, or even his epic skills in the sack, but because of his quick-fire temper, his possessiveness and his overbearing arrogance? It would be utterly tragic... If it weren’t so... I took a shuddering breath, trying to collect myself and fight back the tears threatening to spill over my lids... If it weren’t so wonderful.
‘You’re not your mother,’ he continued, still lecturing me and clearly completely oblivious to the emotions I was struggling to get a grip on. ‘And no one gets to judge you or insult you because of the mistakes she made. You’re worth so much more than that. Do you understand?’
I nodded, because my heart was too swollen and rammed too far up my throat to attempt coherent speech.
He paused, finally realising that he was browbeating me. ‘All right, then. Let’s forget about it now,’ he said, sounding disconcerted for the first time since I’d met him. Was he as stunned by his impassioned defence of me as I was?
I thought of his own background, the horrors of his childhood which he had outlined to me in such stark, unemotional terms. As if they’d happened to another man, as if he’d come to terms with them years ago and got over them. And now I wondered—was that really the case? Perhaps he believed he had been unaffected, that he had risen above those traumas and moved on. But surely he hadn’t, if he could hear about the fairly minor slight Elise had subjected me to—which, I would hazard a guess, was nothing like the kind of insults he had probably suffered—and be so enraged on my behalf.
‘She’s gone and she’s not coming back,’ he added.
He tossed the last of the champagne back, and I wondered if his mouth was now as dry as mine.
‘Do you want the rest of that?’ he asked, nodding at my full glass as he dumped his own empty glass on a waiter’s tray.
I shook my head, still not sure of my ability to speak coherently with so many wants and needs and desires swirling inside me.
‘Bene,’ he said lapsing into Italian, which I knew he only did when his emotions were too close to the surface. He grabbed my glass and dumped it on the waiter’s tray too, then grasped my hand. ‘Because I want to get my hands on you,’ he said, marching through the crowd as he hauled me towards the ballroom and the sound of the orchestra playing another waltz. ‘And the only way I’m going to be able to do that for the next few hours is to dance with you.’
He spun me into his arms, his steps assured and confident, his arms holding me tight. I clung to his wide shoulders as the kaleidoscope of lights whirled around us.
My heart expanded another inch, threatening to choke me. The dangerous emotions surging through me were so strong and so real I knew they would hurt immeasurably tomorrow when we parted—and this affair was over. But tonight all I was capable of doing was following his lead and letting those glorious, overwhelming feelings take hold. Because it was far too late to stop them.
The evening drifted past in a daze, his body wrapped around me as we danced, his hand never letting go of mine even when the music paused and he was forced to release me. He even gripped my hand during the speech he had to give and the final toasts.
The clock was ticking towards midnight, the applause still ringing in my ears when he dragged me through the crowd to charge up the staircase towards our suite.
Perhaps I should have been embarrassed. I could see the knowing looks on some of the guests’ faces, the lascivious smiles on others. Every single person had to know exactly where we were going and why we were leaving the ball so abruptly. But after his passionate defence of me, the petty judgements of people like Elise Durand no longer had the power to hurt me.
I wanted him with a hunger that had been consuming me too—and I refused to be ashamed of it.
Even so, my breath caught in my lungs, my thighs quivering with anticipation, my nipples so hard they hurt when he slammed shut the door of our suite and pressed me back against the wood.
‘I thought tonight would never end,’ he growled, his irritation sending darts of pleasure through my system as he fumbled with the fastening of my gown. ‘To hell with it,’ he said, before the sound of rending fabric tore through the air.
Shock and excitement careered through my body as the exquisite gown slid to the floor, leaving me naked.
‘Dio? Seriously?’ he groaned, the feral grunt filled with outrage. ‘All this time you’ve been wearing no underwear beneath this thing?’
‘I couldn’t,’ I said, moaning as he captured one yearning nipple between his lips and plunged thick fingers between the slick folds of my sex. ‘Nina insisted it would ruin the line of the dress.’
‘I’m going to kill Nina next time I see her,’ he said as I arched into his caresses. ‘But first I’m going to punish you,’ he added, but the teasing tone was hoarse and not remotely convincing.
‘Please...’ I said, circling my hips, thrusting against his hand, as his thumb found the swollen nub of my clitoris—the diabolical touch too much, and yet not nearly enough.
‘Tell me what you need, bella,’ he demanded.
‘I need you,’ I said, blurting out the truth, the emotion which had been holding me hostage all evening starting to strangle me.
‘Anch’io ho bisogno di te...’ he murmured, his voice as raw as my own now. I need you too.
I’d barely had time to translate the words, to grasp hold of what they might mean, before he released his erection and lifted me.
Suddenly, the immense weight of him was plunging heavily inside me, his hands gripping my buttocks to hold me up, to hold me open for him. My back thudded the door as he began to rock his hips and drive into me. My body welcomed the deep thrusts, the huge erection filling up the empty spaces inside me, sending me higher and higher. I sobbed as the orgasm raced towards me.
At last I soared on the rolling wave of pleasure pushing away all my doubts and fears until all that was left was the sweet, sublime joy of our lovemaking. As the orgasm broke over me and I heard his harsh shout of release echoing in my ear, I clung to him, wishing the moment could last for ever...
But knowing if tonight was all I could have, I would take it.
As I floated in afterglow, giddy and dazed and a little sore, stupidly close to tears, he carried me to the bed, then stripped off his clothing.
I needed to protect myself, I knew that, but I couldn’t seem to find the energy or the will to do so as he gathered me against him, our naked bodies slick with sweat from the fury of our coupling.
‘Are you okay?’ he asked, his fingers brushing my hair back as he stared down at me with a tenderness that broke my heart. ‘I didn’t hurt you, did I?’
‘No, of course not,’ I said, confused by the edge in his voice.
‘Are you sure?’ he said. ‘I just took you like a...’ The remark was cut off, but I could hear what he hadn’t said.
Like a whore.
But the edge
in his voice was aimed at him, not me, I realised. I remembered the way he had talked about his mother, the bitterness and anger in his voice when he had told me she was a prostitute. But all I could hear now was regret. Then I remembered the way he had jumped to my defence earlier in the evening. And what he had said.
You’re not your mother. And no one gets to judge you or insult you because of the mistakes she made. You’re worth so much more than that. Do you understand?
And I wondered again why he had defended me so passionately. Was it just me he was trying to defend, or himself?
I lifted up on my elbow, to see his face in the darkness—and the wariness and tension I saw had the emotion flooding back which I had been trying so hard to qualify, and control.
‘I love it when you take me like that,’ I said, desperate to reassure him. With such need, such urgency.
I wanted to add the words but held back, scared to burden him with my feelings—when I could see he was struggling with his own.
‘Okay, good,’ he murmured, then swept his hand down my hair. ‘Go to sleep,’ he said, pressing me down until my head rested against his shoulder.
I kissed his chest, grinning at his huff of breath.
‘Don’t do that or I’m going to want you again,’ he said, his voice strained. ‘And then neither of us is going to get any sleep.’
His appetite for me sent a thrill through my body, but the feeling of closeness thrilled me more.
‘Dante, can I ask you a question?’ I said, the darkness, the intimacy making me bolder than I had ever been.
‘Sure,’ he grunted, stroking my hair. ‘As long as you promise to go to sleep afterwards.’
‘What did your mother do that made you hate her so?’
