Page 46 of Forgotten Mistress, Secret Love-Child
The self-imposed wait was over at last.
He lifted a hand to his tie and tugged it undone.
‘Alessandro!’
His eyes had a glazed look: too intense, too febrile. As if the cool, utterly controlled man she knew had been replaced by a being only half tame. His scar complemented his lawless air. He looked dangerous, rapacious. He’d turned from magnate to pirate in the blink of an eye.
A delicious shiver shot through her, even as she tried to be sensible.
Sleeping with Alessandro would solve nothing. Not when his heart wasn’t engaged. Experience proved she was too vulnerable to him, too hungry for more.
But it’s not sleep he wants, purred a demon voice inside her head.
She watched in fascination and dawning horror as his bow tie slid from his neck to the floor. Dark olive fingers flicked open his shirt.
Carys scrabbled backwards on the bed, hampered by the long veil underneath her and the voluminous skirts.
‘What do you think you’re doing? This wasn’t part of our bargain.’ If only her voice was strident rather than breathless. Instead it sounded like an invitation.
‘Our bargain was marriage, piccolina. You’re my woman now.’ His voice had dropped to a throaty growl that should have warned but instead thrilled her.
She squeezed her eyes shut, seeking the strength she needed.
A dip in the mattress had her eyes popping open to discover Alessandro kneeling astride her thighs, pinning her wide skirt to the bed.
His glittering gaze raked her as if there was no exquisite gown covering her. As if she was his for the taking.
A shiver of pure carnal anticipation ripped through Carys, making a mockery of all her logical protests.
The truth was that, stripped of the varnish of urbane sophistication, Alessandro held an even more potent allure. His untrammelled machismo sent her hormones into overdrive.
‘Alessandro.’ Her voice was a telltale husky quiver, but she pressed on. ‘You don’t really want this.’
Or me. Her throat closed convulsively before she could blurt that out.
He’d turned away from her totally once he had discovered Leo. The completeness of his withdrawal, from hot pursuit to cold distance in the blink of an eye, had left her in no doubt she’d been a convenience, easy to use and easy to discard. Of no intrinsic value.
Hot, familiar pain suffused her and she dropped her eyes. She fought against a lifetime’s experience of rejection, telling herself she was important.
‘Not want this?’ His words were sharp as the crack of a gun firing. His nimble fingers paused from reefing his shirt undone. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘You want to make it appear as if we’re a real married couple, for the benefit of the guests,’ she said in a low, cramped voice, her eyes fixed on his hands rather than his face. ‘But carrying me all the way up here did the trick. There’s no need to continue the charade.’
‘Trick? Charade?’ He spoke softly, yet the words throbbed with outrage. ‘We are really married. You are really my wife. And I am now your husband. The only man in your life. Remember that.’
‘There are no other men in my life.’ She wished he’d move. Being caged by his long, lithe, hot body was doing terrible things to her pulse. It throbbed deep between her legs, in the place that suddenly felt so empty and needy. Her lovely dress felt too constricting, the bodice cramping her breath. If only he’d move away.
‘And there will be no others from now on. Remember that.’
‘I don’t need a man in my life.’ All she needed was Leo.
‘Then you should not have married me, Carys.’
The finality of his tone penetrated, yanking her gaze back to his. Her mouth dried as she looked into his proud, severe, gorgeous face. Clear intent was etched in every angle and curve as well as in the glint of green fire in his deep-set eyes.
‘I will not be used as a convenience, Alessandro. We might have married for our son’s sake, but you can’t have me on tap.’ Her jaw ached with tension and she fought to keep her words calm, despite the emotions jangling through her.
‘Convenience!’ His eyes flared wide. ‘You think this is convenient?’ He snatched her hand up and pressed it, palm down, against his groin.
A massive erection throbbed against her touch. Hot and powerful, it filled her hand. Carys gulped at the memory of all that power unleashed inside her. Need spiralled deep within and she clenched her thighs against the moist proof that he still turned her on as no man ever had.
She tried to pull back, but he wouldn’t let her.
Her pulse rocketed as he loomed over her, an autocratic, sexy captor, trapping her with his superior strength. And more, with the raw promise of pleasure in his eyes.
