The Venetian One-Night Baby

by MELANIE MILBURNE

  He led her to one of the guest bedrooms further down the corridor. It was beautifully decorated in cream and white with touches of gold. The queen-sized bed was made up with snowy white bedlinen, the collection of standard and European pillows looking as soft as clouds. The cream carpet threatened to swallow her feet up to the ankle and she slipped off her shoes and sighed as her toes curled against the exquisite comfort of luxury fibres.

  Max put Sabrina’s bag on a knee-high chest near the built-in wardrobes. ‘I’ll leave you to settle in. The bathroom is through there. I’ll see you in the morning.’ His tone was so clipped he could have trimmed a hedge. He walked the door to leave and she wondered if he was thinking about the last time they had been alone together in a room with a bed. Did he regret their lovemaking so much that he couldn’t bear the thought of repeating it? It felt uncomfortably like her boyfriend walking away, rejecting her. Hurting her.

  ‘Max?’

  He turned back to face her. ‘Yes?’

  Sabrina had to interlace her fingers in front of her body to keep from reaching out to him. She couldn’t beg him to stay with her. Wouldn’t beg him. The risk of him rejecting her would be too painful. ‘Nothing...’ A weak smile flickered across her lips. ‘Goodnight.’

  ‘’Night.’ And then he left and closed the door with a firm click.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  MAX WENT DOWNSTAIRS before he was tempted to join Sabrina in that damn bed. What was wrong with him? Hadn’t he done enough damage? He wanted slip in between those sheets with her, even if just to hold her against his body. He hadn’t forgotten how it felt to have her satin-soft skin against his. He hadn’t forgotten how it felt to glide his hands over her gorgeous breasts or how it felt to bury himself deep into her velvet warmth.

  But he must not think about her like that. He had to keep his distance otherwise things could get even more complicated than they already were. Relationships got complicated when feelings were involved and he was already fighting more feelings than he wanted to admit. Everything was different about his relationship with Sabrina. Everything. And if that wasn’t enough of a warning for him to back off in the feelings department, he didn’t know what was.

  He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a sleepover with a lover. It hadn’t been in this house as he’d only moved in a few months ago once the renovations had been completed. He hadn’t even shared his previous house with Lydia in spite of her broad hints to move in with him.

  Max sat at his desk in his study and sighed. For the next six weeks he would have to make sure he kept his relationship with Sabrina completely platonic. Since when had he found it sexy to make love to a pregnant woman? But now he couldn’t stop thinking about the changes her body was undergoing.

  Changes he had caused.

  His gaze went to the framed photograph of his family on his desk. It had been taken just days before Daniel had died. His mother and father were sitting either side of him and he was holding his brother across his lap. Everyone was smiling, even Daniel.

  Max wondered if he would ever be able to look at that photograph without regret and guilt gnawing at his insides. Regret and guilt and anger at himself for not doing more to help his little brother. It had taken many years for his parents to smile again, especially his mother.

  Would the birth of his parents’ first grandchild heal some of the pain of the past?

  * * *

  When Sabrina woke the next morning, it took her a moment to realise where she was. The room was bathed in golden sunlight, and she stretched like a lazy cat against the marshmallow-soft pillows. It was a Sunday so there was no rush to get out of bed...although staying in bed would be a whole lot more tempting if Max was lying here beside her. She’d heard him come up the stairs to his room on the floor above hers in the early hours of the morning. Didn’t the man need more than three or four hours of sleep?

  There was a tap at the door and she sat up in the bed. ‘Come in.’

  Max opened the door, deftly balancing a tray on one hand as he came in. ‘Good morning. I thought you might like some tea and toast.’

  ‘Oh, lovely, I haven’t had breakfast in bed in ages.’

  He came over to the bed and placed the tray, which had fold-down legs, across her lap. This close she could smell his freshly shampooed hair and the citrus fragrance of his aftershave. He straightened and gave his version of a smile. ‘How are you feeling?’

  ‘So far, so good,’ Sabrina said. ‘Sometimes the nausea hits when I first stand up.’

  ‘Good reason to stay where you are, then.’

  She picked up the steaming cup of tea and took a sip. ‘Mmm...perfect. How did you know I take it black?’

  His expression was wry. ‘I think it’s safe to say your parents have told me just about everything there is to know about you over the years.’

  Not quite everything.

  Sabrina had never told her parents about her first sexual experience. The only person she’d told was Holly. It was too embarrassing, too painful to recall the shame she’d felt to hear such horrible rumours spread about her after giving herself to her boyfriend. ‘Seriously, they told you how I take my tea?’

  He gave a half smile. ‘Only joking. No, I’ve been observing you myself.’

  She put her tea back on the tray and picked up a slice of toast and peeped at him from half-lowered lashes. ‘I’ve noticed.’

  ‘Oh?’

  ‘Yep. You got really annoyed when I danced with one of the guys at that party at my parents’ house a few months back.’ She nibbled on the toast and watched his expression go from that mercurial smile to a brooding frown. She pointed the toast at him. ‘There. That’s exactly how you looked that night.’

  He rearranged his features back into a smile but it didn’t involve his eyes. ‘You imagined it. I was probably frowning about something else entirely.’

  Sabrina examined her slice of toast as if it were the most interesting thing in the world. ‘Thing is... I’ve never been all that comfortable with the dating scene.’

  ‘But you’re always going on dates.’ Max’s frown was one of confusion. ‘You’ve nearly always got someone with you when you go to family gatherings.’

  So, he’d noticed that too, had he? Interesting. Sabrina shrugged. ‘So? I didn’t want everyone to think I was a freak.’ She hadn’t intended to tell him about her past. It hadn’t seemed necessary the night they’d made love. Max’s magical touch had dissolved all of her fears of physical intimacy. Well, most of them. But it wasn’t physical intimacy that was her problem now. Emotional intimacy was the issue. What if she developed feelings for him that weren’t reciprocated? Real feelings. Lasting feelings. Love feelings.

  ‘When was the last time you had sex with a guy?’ His voice had a raw quality to it.

  She looked at the toast in her hand rather than meet his gaze. ‘Other than with you? Ten years.’

  ‘Ten years?’ The words all but exploded from his mouth.

  Sabrina could feel her colour rising. ‘I’m sure that seems like a long time to someone like you, who has sex every ten minutes, but I had a bad experience and it put me off.’

  He took the toast out of her hand and held her hand in both of his. ‘Sabrina...’ His thumbs began a gentle stroking of her wrist, his eyes meshing with hers. ‘The bad experience you mentioned...’ His throat rose and fell as if he was trying to swallow a boulder. ‘Were you—?’

  ‘No, it was completely consensual,’ Sabrina said. ‘I was eighteen and fancied myself in love and felt ready to have sex for the first time. I never wanted my first time to be outside the context of a loving relationship. But my so-called boyfriend had another agenda. He just wanted to crow to his friends about getting it on with me. I overheard him telling his friends I was hopeless in bed. The gossip and rumours did the rounds of my friendship group. It was humiliating and I wanted to die from shame.
Up until you, I hadn’t been brave enough to sleep with anyone else.’ She chanced a glance at him from beneath her lowered lashes. ‘Go on, say it. Tell me I’m a frigid freak.’

  His frown carved a deep V into his forehead, his hands so soft around hers it was as if he were cradling a baby bird. ‘No...’ His voice had that raw edge again. ‘You’re no such thing. That guy was a jerk to do that to you. You’re gorgeous, sensual and so responsive I can barely keep my hands off you.’

  His words were like a healing balm to her wounded self-esteem. So what if he didn’t love her? He desired her and that would have to be enough for now. His gentle touch made her body ache to have him even closer, skin on skin. She leaned in and pressed a soft-as-air kiss to his mouth, just a brush of her lips against his. ‘Thank you...’

  His mouth flickered as if her light kiss had set off an electric current in his lips. He drew her closer, one of his hands going to the back of her head, the other to glide along the curve of her cheek, his mouth coming down to within a breath of hers. But then he suddenly pulled back to frown at her again. ‘But that night we made love... My God, I probably hurt you. Did I?’

  Sabrina wound her arms around his neck, sending her fingers into the thickness of his hair. ‘Of course you didn’t. You were amazingly gentle.’

  ‘But you were practically a virgin.’ His expression was etched with tension. ‘I should have taken more time. I shouldn’t have made love to you more than once. Were you sore? Did I do anything you didn’t like?’

  She shook her head. ‘No, Max. I enjoyed every second of our lovemaking. I just wish...’ She bit her lip and lowered her gaze.

  ‘Wish what?’

  ‘Nothing. I’m being silly.’

  Max inched up her chin with the end of his finger. ‘Tell me.’

  Sabrina took a breath. ‘I’ve only had sex four times in my life, one time I don’t want to even think about any more. The other three times were so amazing that I sometimes wonder if I imagined how amazing they were.’

  ‘What are you saying?’

  ‘I’m asking you to make love to me again.’

  His eyes searched hers. ‘Is that really what you want?’

  She looked into his smouldering eyes. ‘I want you. You want me too...don’t you?’

  His hand slid under the curtain of her hair. ‘It scares me how much I want you. But I don’t want to complicate things between us.’

  ‘How will it complicate things if we sleep together? It’s not as if I’m going to get pregnant.’ Her attempt at humour fell flat if his reaction was anything to go by.

  He closed his eyes in a slow blink, then he removed her hand from him and stood up. ‘I’m sorry, Sabrina, but I can’t. It wouldn’t be fair to you.’ He scraped a hand through his still-damp-from-a-shower hair. ‘You’re not thinking straight. It’s probably baby brain or something.’

  ‘Baby brain?’ Sabrina choked out a humourless laugh. ‘Is that what you think? Really? Don’t you remember how amazing that night in Venice was?’

  ‘Sabrina.’ His stern schoolmaster tone was another blow to her flagging self-esteem.

  She pushed the tea tray off her legs and set it on the other side of the bed. ‘Or maybe sex is always that amazing for you. Maybe you can’t even distinguish that night from the numerous other hook-ups you’ve had since.’ She threw him a glance. ‘How many have there been, Max?’ Tears smarted in her eyes but she couldn’t seem to stop herself from throwing the questions at him, questions she didn’t really want answered. ‘Is that why you’ve refused to sleep me with since that night? How many have you had since then? One or two a week? More?’

  He drew in a long breath and then released it. ‘None.’

  ‘None?’

  He came and sat beside her legs on the bed and took her hand again, his fingers warm and strong around hers. ‘None.’

  Sabrina used the back of her free hand to swipe at her tears. ‘Are you just saying that to make me feel better?’

  ‘It’s the truth. There hasn’t been anyone because...’ He looked down at her hand in the cage of his, a frown pulling at his forehead.

  ‘Because?’

  His gaze met hers and a wry smile flickered across his mouth. ‘I’m not sure.’

  Sabrina moistened her dry lips. ‘Was it...amazing for you too? That night in Venice, I mean?’

  He gave her hand a squeeze. ‘How can you doubt it? You were there. You saw what you did to me.’

  She lowered her gaze and looked at their joined hands, thinking of their joined bodies and the sounds of their cries of pleasure that night. His deep groans and whole-body shudders. ‘It’s not like I have much experience to draw on...’

  He brought up her chin with the end of his finger. ‘It was amazing for me, sweetheart. You were everything a man could ask for in a lover.’ His frown came back, deeper than before. ‘I just wish I’d known you were so inexperienced. Are you sure I didn’t hurt you?’

  Sabrina placed her other hand on top of his. ‘Max, listen to me. You didn’t hurt me.’

  He brought her hand up to his mouth, pressing his lips against the back of her knuckles, his gaze locked on hers. ‘When I saw you at my mother’s party last night I was considering offering you more than a one-night fling.’ He lowered her hand to rest it against his chest. ‘I would’ve been breaking all of my rules about relationships in doing so, but I couldn’t get you out of my mind. Or stop thinking about how good we were together.’

  ‘Then why won’t you make love to me again?’

  His irises were a deep smoky grey, his pupils wide and ink black, and they flicked to her mouth and back to her gaze. ‘You’re making this so difficult for me.’ His voice was gravel rough and he leaned closer until his lips were just above hers. ‘So very difficult...’ And then his mouth came down and set hers aflame.

  It was a soft kiss at first, slow and languorous, his lips rediscovering the contours of her mouth. But it soon changed when his tongue stroked across her bottom lip. She opened to him and his tongue met hers, his groan of satisfaction as breathless as her own. His hands came up to cradle her face, his fingers splaying across her cheeks, his mouth working its mesmerising magic on hers. The movement of his tongue against hers set off fireworks in her blood. Her pulse raced, her heart thumped, her need for him rising in a hot tide of longing that left no part of her body unaffected. Her breasts tingled at the close contact as he drew her closer, the satin of her nightgown sliding sensually over her flesh.

  He lifted his mouth to blaze a hot trail of kisses along her neck to the scaffold of her left clavicle. ‘God, I want you so damn much...’ His voice came out as a growl, the warmth in his lips as hot as fire. He was making her burn for him. She could feel it smouldering between her legs, the slow burn of lust that he had awakened in her.

  ‘I want you too.’ She breathed the words against his lips, her tongue stroking his lower lip, tasting him, teasing him.

  He sealed her mouth with his, massaging her lips in a tantalising motion that made her pulse and ache with feverish desire. His tongue danced with hers, an erotic choreography that made her senses sing. One of his hands slipped the shoestring strap of her nightgown down her shoulder, uncovering her right breast. He brought his mouth down to its rosy peak, his caress so gentle it made her shiver with delight. His teeth lightly grazed her nipple, his tongue rolling over and around it until she gave a gasp of pleasure. He lowered the other strap off her left shoulder, the satin nightgown slithering down to her waist, revealing her body to his feasting gaze.

  ‘You are so damn beautiful.’

  Sabrina began to lift his T-shirt, desperate to touch his warm male skin. ‘I want to touch you.’

  He pulled back to haul his T-shirt over his head, tossing it to the floor. He stood and came over to remove the tea tray from the bed and set it on top of a chest of drawers. He came back to her. ‘Are
you sure about this?’

  ‘Never surer.’ Sabrina wriggled out of her nightgown, a part of her a little shocked at her lack of shyness. But hadn’t he already seen all there was to see? She loved the way he looked at her with eyes blazing with lust. It was the most ego-boosting thing to see him struggle to keep control. No one had ever made her feel as beautiful as he did. No one had ever made her feel proud to be a woman, proud of her curves, proud of her sounds as desire shuddered through her.

  Max swallowed and stared at her for a long moment, seemingly still struggling with the tug-of-war between his body and his brain. Sabrina drank in the sight of him naked, his taut and tanned torso cut and carved with well-defined muscles that would have made Michelangelo drool and sharpen his chisel. She had never thought of a man as being beautiful before—it was a term usually applied to women. But in Max’s case it was entirely appropriate. There was a classical beauty about the structure of his face and body, the aristocratic lines and planes and contours reminding her of heroes—both fictional and historical—from times past.

  Max gathered her close, his touch as gentle as if he were handling priceless porcelain. It made her skin lift and shiver in a shower of goose-bumps. ‘Are you cold?’ He frowned and glided his hand over her thigh.

  Sabrina smiled and brushed her hand down the wall of his chest, suddenly feeling shy about touching him. But she ached to touch him. To caress him. ‘I’m not cold. I’m just enjoying being touched. You have such incredible hands.’

  He brought his mouth back to hers in a lingering kiss that made her need of him throb deep in her core. Every movement of his lips, every touch of his tongue, every contact point of his body with hers made her desire build to the point of pain. There was a storm gathering in her feminine flesh, a tight turbulence that spread from her core to each of her limbs like all her nerves were on fire. There was a deep throbbing ache between her legs and every time his tongue flicked against hers, it triggered another pulse of lust that made it throb all the more. She moved against him restively, wanting more but not sure how to ask for it.