Page 25 of His Housekeeper's Twin Baby Confession
Carrie had a very unwelcome flashback to her husband, saying nastily,‘At some point men can’t stop. It’s physically impossible. So don’t put me in that position again. It’s your fault.’
She went cold.
Massimo put a hand on her arm. ‘Carrie? What is it?’
She shook her head. She did not want those memories here. This was not the place for them. This was the present and her new future opening up. She wouldn’t go back to that dark place.
She looked up at Massimo, lifted her chin. ‘I’m not an innocent. I was married...but it’s been a while.’
Massimo frowned slightly. ‘Your husband...was he...?’
‘I don’t want to talk about him.’ Carrie cut him off sharply.
He seemed to accept that. ‘We’ll take it slow...okay?’
Carrie nodded. Glad that she’d at least warned him not to expect fireworks. He put a finger under her chin and his head dipped towards hers. A burst of nerves suddenly assailed her.
She blurted out, ‘You know, I’m really not very good at...this.’
Massimo paused inches from her mouth. His mouth quirked. ‘Let me be the judge of that.’
Carrie was about to say,That’s what I’m afraid of, but her words were swallowed by Massimo’s mouth settling over hers, stealing her breath and every conscious thought in her head.
It wasn’t a kiss. It was a claiming. It was elemental. Carrie opened her mouth unconsciously, allowing Massimo access. Allowing him to delve deep and find all her secrets, feel her reticence. Her inexperience.
But she couldn’t worry about any of that now. She was acting on instinct. An instinct as old as time. An ancient dance. She was freed of all concerns. There was only here and now and the hot intensity entwining her with this man.
His hands were in her hair, holding her so that he could explore even deeper, and then he was tipping her face up so that he could trail his lips along her jaw and down along her neck to her shoulder.
The dress felt too tight around her breasts. She couldn’t breathe. She wanted to break free of every constriction. Without even commanding her hands to do it, she was pushing Massimo’s jacket off his shoulders and down his arms, pulling away his tie and throwing it aside, opening his shirt to reveal his chest, broad and magnificent. Mouth-wateringly masculine and hard-muscled.
She’d never experienced such a carnal feeling before. This man was hers and she wanted him. Any insecurities were burned to ash by the strength of her desire.
For a moment Massimo pulled back, and Carrie looked up at him, breathing harshly. Her hands were on his chest. She was marvelling at his heat and perfection. Her mouth felt swollen. Her heart was pumping so hard she could almost hear it.
Massimo looked down at her, his shirt half on, half off, hair mussed. Eyes burning.
He reached out and cupped her jaw and said, almost as if to himself, ‘Whoareyou?’
Massimo was fairly certain he’d never met this woman before. Her hair was a wild tangle around her bare shoulders. Cheeks slashed with colour. Eyes huge and glowing like two jewels. Mouth a lush, plump invitation to keep kissing her and never stop.
Carrie swallowed. ‘I’m just me...no one special.’
Everything in Massimo rejected that. She was temptation incarnate. She was fascinating. And he wanted her with a hunger he couldn’t ever remember experiencing before.
He caught one of her hands and led her out of the reception area and through the apartment to the elevator. Inside, he put her apart from him and watched her as it ascended the short distance. He knew that if he so much as touched her now he wouldn’t stop and they’d make love right there.
He thought for a second of what she’d said—that she wasn’t innocent, she’d been married, and how she’d cut off his attempt to ask her about her husband.
It occurred to him that she’d cut him off because she couldn’t bear to talk about him—because it pained her to talk about him. Because she’d loved him.
That thought shouldn’t affect Massimo, but it did. Like a little sharp burr under his skin. He knew the awful pain of losing someone you loved, and the thought that she’d loved someone that much sent something dark and incomprehensible through him.
Before he could try and figure it out, the doors of the elevator opened. He welcomed the distraction, took Carrie’s hand and led her, barefoot, into his bedroom.
She stalled. He looked at her.
She said, ‘You don’t usually...you know...in your own bedroom.’
