Page 53 of Unveiled As The Italian's Bride
No, more thanhurt.It sent her into a dizzying, frightening tailspin because somewhere and somehow she had been stripped of her defences.
Being in control—an adult having fun with no strings attached and no expectations—had been washed away under an onslaught of emotions, desires and wants that she had never predicted.
She had done well to recognise her own limitations, to acknowledge her lack of experience, so why on earth hadn’t she made the logical leap to realise that those very limitations would leave her horrendously exposed when it came to dealing with a guy like Dante—would leave herhearthorrendously exposed?
They had slept together, and she had been foolishly infected by his assurances that it was all some fun which would run its course, leaving no one hurt.
So what happened now?
She fixed a smile on her face while her thoughts continued pelting along on the runaway train.
‘Good. And did you get much work done?’
‘Enough.’
‘Enough for what?’
Dante met that soft, sexy, questioning gaze and resolve slammed into place—no misunderstandings, no blurred lines. They’d slept together and he wanted to carry on sleeping with her. It was unthinkable that they wouldn’t, because they enjoyed one another way too much to walk away from the physical side of the arrangement.
Unforeseen, but now impossible to ignore.
That said, ground had to be recovered. He’d wavered, found himself over-thinking the whole situation, and now was the perfect moment to gather himself and get the splayed deck of cards back in a stack, ready to be shuffled and dealt, but this time with him firmly in control.
He growled, stepping towards her, invading her space and breathing her in, her scent the headiest of aphrodisiacs. ‘Enough for me to spend some undiluted time in bed with you later. No distractions. Just me and you, and me doing all sorts of sexy things to you.’
‘Dante...’
‘Shh...’ He traced her lower lip with his finger. ‘Let’s not get wrapped up thinking too hard about this.’
‘What do you mean?’ Kate whispered.
‘I mean, you were upset because I had to work in the car.’ He pulled back and watched her with steady, cool eyes.
‘I wasn’t upset.’
‘I’m not in the business of putting work to one side to cater for any kind of relationship.’
‘We talked about this! I know that.’
‘Do you?’
‘Of course I do.’ She drew in a deep, shaky breath. ‘I know the limits of this situation.’
‘That’s good.’
‘You’ve repeated the rules and regulations often enough to make sure I don’t forget.’ Her voice was terse, her body rigid with tension.
‘Yet sometimes amnesia can kick in when the rules get a little tweaked, and us sleeping together comes under that category, wouldn’t you agree?
Kate lowered her eyes. Her heart was beating wildly inside her as the cold ramifications of her misjudgement coalesced.
She fallen in love with a guy who was only capable of lust. She’d given herself to him hook, line and sinker and now she felt sick at the prospect of the future yawning ahead of her. She saw a slow-motion scenario of Dante losing interest: turning his back on her because she’d outlived her novelty value; having discreet liaisons, which was what she had foolishly agreed to when everything had seemed clear cut.
‘I suppose so,’ she said faintly.
‘But now we’ve cleared the air.’ Dante pulled back. ‘We’d better see what’s happening with my daughter and my uncle and the flowers.’
‘Which looked a little tired after the car journey here,’ Kate chipped in, because a chirpy remark seemed to be expected of her. Sure enough, Dante nodded with an approving smile and turned, and she edged a little away but kept pace as they headed to the sitting room.
