Page 136 of A Diamond Deal
Yes or no. Right or wrong. Need or satiation.
Slowly, she shook her head from side to side, fingers toying with the enormous faux diamond, twisting it around and around. ‘No,’ she said, eyes huge when they met his. ‘Show me more, Signor Moretti.’
His eyes flared at that, the heat in them unmistakable. ‘What’s the magic word?’
He lifted a finger and traced it from the middle of her brow, lower, over her face, to the tip of her nose.
She shivered. ‘Please.’
‘You are a quick learner.’ His voice was thick with his own need, and when he put both hands on her hips and jerked her against him, she felt the jut of his arousal hard to her belly and stars formed in her eyes. An ancient, feminine need had her shifting her hips, just like before, seeking him, wordlessly inviting.
Instead, he pushed his hand between them and, once more, set about shaking the very foundation of her world, so she no longer recognised anyone or anything, least of all herself.
He wasn’t surprised she fell asleep. He looked down at her beautiful body, her long blonde hair loose around her face like an angel’s halo, her silky black lashes fanning across her cheeks, and reached forward to grab the sheet and drape it over her body. She smiled softly, murmured something, then rolled onto her side, exposing the still slightly bruised cheek, so something fired inside him. A protective instinct that was both familiar and unwelcome.
He stepped back from the bed, walking quietly from her bedroom, and down the corridor to his own. Dressing in running gear was a way of putting what had just happened behind himself.
Not that he wanted to.
No, if Massimiliano had it his way, he’d be stripping himself naked and sliding into bed beside her, to hell with what he’d promised. He wasn’t sure he’d ever wanted a woman more—and that had caught him completely off guard. Because he wasn’t supposed to feel that kind of attraction for his bride. That was not what they were. And he’d been so convinced he could manage this. Marry her and treat her like a business partner, a polite acquaintance to be showed off publicly, from time to time, with no need for any further complications.
Instead, he’d watched her fall apart and known he could get addicted to the thrill of that. Her innocence and responsiveness, the way she clung to him as though he was the only anchor in her world.
There was a thrill that came from what he was doing. The ability to pleasure her to the point of mania, of teaching her everything she would need to know about sex. Of being her firsteverything. In every way.
His gut rolled at that, and he slipped from the heavily secured penthouse quietly, stepping out onto the street. He looked down on the Villa Borghese parklands as he began to run, and then to the dusky sky beyond, the city that was preparing for the night ahead. Ancient roofs, the silhouettes of familiar church domes, the city that he’d loved and hated for so long—loved for what it was, hated for what it had taken from him. For the doors that had closed in his face, after his father’s actions.
But that was not why he was running. He had energy he needed to burn, energy that yearned to be poured into the woman upstairs, fast asleep, beautiful and innocent, and utterly and completely in his hands. The woman he’d married, for the sake of his family’s name, who, if he wasn’t careful, would become all he could think about.
When a hand trailing over her bare shoulder woke her, Amelia stirred, disoriented and confused. It took several seconds to remember the wedding, what had come afterwards, and where she now was. Her eyes quickly travelled the palatial bedroom, with its stunning furnishings, and beyond, to the view of Rome. In the time since they’d arrived, the sky had grown dark, the stars a blanket of diamonds above them, the city twinkling as though etched in gold. And there, beside her, dressed in a different suit, looking freshly showered, was Massimiliano. Her husband. Her eyes fell to the ring again, her stomach contracting as that reality landed with a thud, right beside memories of how he’d pleasured her.
Shyness twisted inside her belly, making it impossible to say the words she felt: join me. Come to bed.
‘We have dinner reservations.’
She tried to hide her disappointment. ‘We do?’
He leaned down then, palms flat on either side of her, his face close, so her breath hitched in her throat and, of its own volition, her body twisted beneath the million-thread-count sheets.
‘It is important to be seen, remember. Our marriage achieves nothing if it is behind closed doors.’
He was right. This deal was about restoring his family’s name, and, for whatever reason, marriage to her had the power to do that. She was obligated to carry out her part of this arrangement. Even if she did long to stay right here, with his hands roaming her body anew.
But whatever temptation he’d felt earlier that day, this version of Massimiliano was all business, focused purely on the question of erasing his father’s sins from the memory of Italy’s elite.
‘Okay,’ she said, clearing her throat, sitting up a little, then cheeks flaming as she realised she was completely naked. She grabbed the sheet and hoisted it up to her chin.
His laugh was laced with sardonic amusement. ‘Cara, I’ve seen you naked. My hands have roamed your body.’ He leaned down then, the businessman slipping for a moment, leaving her would-be lover in plain sight. ‘Do not hide from me.’
He reached for the sheet, eyes holding hers as he tugged on it, reading her the whole time, perhaps to see if she objected to what he was doing. But she didn’t. As his hand withdrew the sheet and the cool air ran over her, she shivered, because it was like an inundation of fresh pleasure. It was everything all at once.
‘You are too beautiful to hide from anyone,Contessina.’
A lump formed in her throat as his words ran over her, warming her in places she hadn’t even known she possessed. She had no vanity. She’d had no time for it. No need, either. She existed purely for the sake of survival, and had done so for a long time. But with his fairy-tale billionaire treatment, and the way he looked at her, it was so easy to believe she was everything he described.
Chapter Nine
AT THE TIME, the incredible array of clothes he’d bought her had seemed completely over the top. But as she stood in the stall of the ladies’ room and listened to the conversation being indiscreetly held by the sinks, she was glad, at least, that she looked as though she belonged in this world.
