Читать книгу Sleeping With The Enemy - Annie West - Страница 18

TINA was on edge in a way she hadn’t been since the night she’d met Nico in Venice. That night, when she’d gotten into the gondola with the enigmatic stranger, she’d known they would end up in bed together even if she hadn’t fully admitted it to herself.

Tonight, she was admitting it. And she wanted it so desperately her skin tingled with anticipation. It didn’t matter that she’d been furious and hurt earlier. Nothing mattered except that she’d stood in that tiny chapel and promised to love, honor and cherish until death do us part, while her heart thrummed and her palms sweated and the man standing beside her gazed at her with piercing silver eyes.

They were in this together now, officially, and tonight was their wedding night. She couldn’t quite wrap her head around it. She was a married woman, the marchesa di Casari, and her family had no idea. Guilt slid deep into her bones. Renzo would hit the roof when he found out. Thank God that wouldn’t be for another couple of weeks at least—more if she was lucky. Still, she had time to figure out how to tell everyone what she’d done.

And time to get to the root of the problem between Renzo and Nico. If she could just understand that, she could help to fix this thing between them. She didn’t expect they would be best friends ever again, but if they could at least be in the same room together without wanting to kill each other, that would be a start.

The plane had landed half an hour ago now. She’d thought they were returning to Castello di Casari, but instead they were in Rome. She expected that Nico had a huge villa somewhere in the city, but rather it was an exclusive apartment overlooking the ancient rooftops and splendid ruins.

There was no staff waiting to greet them, no Giuseppe with his kind smile and brisk efficiency. There was only Nico, and the lights of Rome spread out like a carpet of fireflies.

She felt suddenly awkward as she stood in the darkened living room and watched Nico prowling toward her, his dark good looks emphasized by the formality of the tuxedo. He’d undone his tie a while ago, and unbuttoned the top couple of buttons of his shirt to give a tantalizing glimpse of bronzed skin.

She focused on that slice of skin until he stopped in front of her and her eyes drifted up to meet his. It jolted her again just how very handsome he was, with those piercing eyes and perfect cheekbones.

He took her hand in his without breaking eye contact, placed it on his shoulder.

Then he did the same with the other one, placing it on his opposite shoulder as her heart thrummed and her body warmed to dangerous temperatures.

“Alone at last,” he told her with a wicked smile that made hunger slide into her veins.

“So it would seem.”

“I want you, Tina,” he said, dipping his head to place a soft kiss on her cheek. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back as his mouth traced a path along her jaw and down the column of her throat. “Too much,” he murmured against her skin, and the vibration of his voice dripped into her bloodstream like pure adrenaline. “I’ve thought of nothing but this for hours now.”

A thrill rocketed through her. “I should tell you no,” she said on a little half gasp as his lips found the sweet spot behind her ear.

“It’s inevitable, bella. You want me as I want you.”

“I might,” she admitted. “But I’m not exactly thrilled with how you’ve treated me.”

He lifted his head to look at her. “The prenup was necessary. You know that.”

She shrugged, but she didn’t remove her hands from his shoulders. “I do know. But you could have picked a better time.”

He sighed, his palms sliding along her hips. “It wasn’t ready before then. It takes time to put together a document of that size.”

“I realize that, Nico. I’m not stupid. But you could have told me earlier that we’d be dealing with it at some point.”

He dipped his head and ran his mouth along the column of her throat while she tried not to moan or fall apart in his arms. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I should have mentioned it.”

She sighed. She had an apology of her own to make. “Thank you for getting the dresses. It was nice of you.”

His hands slipped around to cup her bottom. “I thought you were angry over that.”

Tina swallowed as heat swirled inside her belly. “I was. But I realize you were trying to be nice. You just went about it in a typical male fashion.”

He pulled back to look down at her. “A typical male fashion?”

She nodded as she gazed up at him. “Yes. You assumed I would be happy so you proceeded without consulting me.”

“And you would prefer I consult you in the future about decisions of this nature?”

“About decisions that involve me. Yes.”

He dipped his head and ran his tongue along the top of her bodice. “And what about this, Tina? Do you wish to continue? Or shall we say good-night here?”

“Nico,” she breathed.

“You have the power to say no,” he told her. “I want only a willing wife in my bed.”

Tina shuddered as he pulled her against him, the evidence of his need for her pressing into her abdomen. He was hard, ready, and liquid heat slid through her in response.

“I think I’m ready,” she said, a shiver running through her because he’d asked. He’d asked.

“Think? Or know? Because I don’t want any ambiguity, cara. Choose me now, or go to bed alone.”

He was truly asking what she wanted—and she was a goner.

“I know. I know.” Tina wrapped her arms around his neck at the same moment his mouth sought hers, capturing it in a kiss so scorching she nearly melted from the heat. She moaned when he slid his tongue against hers, and her knees suddenly felt as if they were made of water.

She was hot and ready, like a pot that had been on the burner all day—and Nico seemed to know it.

Her pulse thrummed in her ears, her throat, her breastbone, pounding out a beat that made her dizzy while his tongue licked into her with such devastating skill that all she could do was cling to him.

He made her feel so much. So many conflicting emotions crashing through her along with a healthy, hungry appetite for what they were about to do. How could she want him so acutely? And how could he be so very bad for her at the same time?

Nico pulled her hips against his again, until she could once more feel the evidence of an impressive erection.

Tina whimpered. Just like that, it was suddenly too much to wait even a minute more. She’d decided to do this thing, and there was no going back.

She ripped at the studs holding his shirt closed until he laughed deep in his throat and shrugged out of his jacket, letting it fall where he stood. Then his hands came over hers, helped her tear the shirt open as studs popped and flew.

Her hands were suddenly on his hot flesh, her palms sliding along his skin, learning the texture of him once more. He was so hot, so hard and muscular, and she wanted him naked before another minute passed. She couldn’t think about anything but him. He drove her crazy with need.

She tugged the shirt from his trousers and then went after his belt and zipper while Nico fumbled with the buttons at her back. She could feel his frustration mounting with the tiny buttons.

He broke the kiss and turned her in his arms. “Don’t rip them,” she gasped.

“I won’t.” His voice was clipped, rough, and it made her tremble. Soon the bodice began to loosen, but he lost patience and turned her again, pulling the front of the gown down just enough so that her breasts spilled freely into his hands. Her nipples were hard little points that he flicked with his thumbs while a deep shiver rolled through her.

“Dio, you are so beautiful.”

A skein of pleasure uncoiled in her belly, along with the bone-deep need that made her sex ache. Niccolo Gavretti had said she was beautiful. Nico, the notorious playboy, the man she’d mooned after as a love-struck teenager, had just said she was beautiful. It was a dream come true in some ways.

She wanted to tell him that he was beautiful, too, but his mouth captured hers again, driving all thoughts from her head except one: need you now.

His mouth was questing, demanding, and she responded in kind, her heart hammering, her skin on fire as she tried to get closer to him. He gathered fistfuls of her skirts, shoved them up her hips so he could hook his fingers into her panties and push them down until gravity took over and they fell to her feet.

Tina was never so glad she’d not worn garters as she was at that moment. “Now, Nico,” she said against his lips. “Now.”

He guided her backward until she bumped into something. Before she could tell what it was, he lifted her and sat her down on a table. She was so focused on him that she had no idea where they were—dining room, kitchen, living room—and she didn’t care. All she cared about was this man and this moment.

Tina wrapped her legs around him as he pushed her thighs open and stepped between them. His hands were on her hips, holding her in place as their mouths fused again and again, their kisses drunken and hot and utterly addictive. She fumbled with his zipper, jerked it down with shaky fingers. And then her hands were in his trousers, freeing him.

He groaned as she wrapped her hand around him, slid her palm along his hot, velvety shaft. He shoved her skirts higher and pulled her hands away from his body. She made a sound of disappointment, but a moment later she felt the blunt head of his penis pressing into her and every last thought flew out of her mind.

He cupped her bottom, tilting her backward slightly before he thrust deeply inside her—it wasn’t a sudden movement, but it was overpowering in its intensity. One moment she was craving him, the next he’d filled her. Tina cried out in surprise and pleasure, and his entire body stilled.

“Have I hurt you?” His voice was rough.

Yes, she wanted to say. Yes.

But the pain wasn’t physical. “No. Please don’t stop.”

His laugh was ragged. “Stop? Not possible, tesoro. Not possible.” He leaned forward and kissed her again, and she could feel his body pulsing inside hers. Had it been this exciting the first time? Had she wanted him so desperately that she’d been willing to do anything to have him?

Possibly, but it didn’t matter. This was what mattered. Now, when he was inside her, his entire being focused on her. He was the kind of man who knew how to make a woman’s body sing, and she knew this night would be even better than the first because she wasn’t as naive as before. Because she knew what to expect—and she craved it.

Craved him.

Tina didn’t want to let him go, as if she would wake up and find it had all been a dream if she did. She wrapped her arms around his neck, her body bending into him as he began to move. Their tongues tangled as he stroked into her with such skill she wanted to weep.

She knew he tried to be gentle, but it wasn’t really possible.

For either of them. They were joined together with no barriers between them this time—and they’d waited for two long months to be in this place again, though they did not know it was what they’d been waiting for.

Nico pushed her back until she was supporting herself on her hands, her back arching, her breasts thrusting into the air for his pleasure. His lips closed over an aroused nipple, spiking the pleasure within her until she wasn’t certain she could hold out another second.

“Nico,” she gasped, her senses filled with him.

Deep within her, the explosion began to build. His lovemaking was raw, powerful, almost desperate, as if he’d held back for far too long and even now perched on the edge of his control. His fingers dug into her hips as he held her hard and drove into her.

Tina dragged her eyes open to look at him, to look at the picture they made. He bent over her body, the ruins of his shirt clinging to his broad shoulders. His skin glistened with moisture and she lifted a hand to rake it through his hair. He dragged his mouth across her breasts then, his lips closing around her other nipple. Tina clasped his head to her with a soft moan, loving the sharp, sweet spike of pleasure that tugged at her. Her breasts were so much more sensitive than they’d been only a few weeks ago, and she cried out as his tongue swirled and teased and tormented.

He drove her relentlessly, almost savagely, until she shattered with a sharp cry, her entire body clenching with the force of her orgasm. Her legs tightened around him, as if she was afraid he might try to leave her.

But he didn’t leave. And he didn’t stop, gripping her buttocks in his hands and lifting her to him until the new angle made her breath catch once more.

“Again,” he said, the muscles in his neck and chest and abdomen corded tight as he held her up and drove into her.

Tina lay back on the table, her arms over her head in helpless surrender, her eyes closed as she pushed her hips up to meet him. She was a creature of pleasure now, a being who existed for this alone. He came down on top of her, the fabric of her dress rustling, no doubt wrinkling hopelessly.

She didn’t care.

He dominated her with the strength of his body, and she wrapped her legs high around his back, tears squeezing from her closed eyes to leak down her temples and into her hair.

It was too beautiful, too perfect to be with him like this. He destroyed her. And she was far happier than she should be.

“Tina,” he groaned. “Dio, don’t cry.”

He threaded his fingers through hers, his mouth seeking hers once more. He kissed her far more sweetly than she’d thought he was capable of at that moment. Fear swirled in her belly then. Everything about being with him felt right—but did he feel it, too, or was this simply the consummate ladies’ man doing what he did best?

Tina squeezed her eyes tighter. She couldn’t think like that. She simply couldn’t. They were married now and they had a child on the way. He was hers.

And, oh, God, that’s just what she’d wanted, wasn’t it? She wanted him to belong to her—had from the first moment he’d walked into their tiny kitchen with Renzo and smiled at her. He’d been so strong and handsome and perfect—and she’d been shy, awkward and unworthy of ever getting such a man, even in her wildest dreams.

He raised his head, as if he sensed the turmoil in her heart. “You’re thinking too much,” he said gruffly. “Stop thinking.”

And then he made it impossible for her to think as he thrust into her again and again, harder and harder, until she caught fire, until her body shattered in a million bright shards of color and her breath tore from her in a long, broken cry.

She was still gasping and reeling when he followed her into oblivion, holding her tightly to him, his hips grinding into her one last time as a deep shudder racked him.

Her heart throbbed in the silence, filling her ears with the sound of her blood rushing through her sensitized body. Tina put her hand in his hair, held him to her as he buried his face against her neck. His hair was damp, hot, and his breath ghosted over her heated skin, cooling her.

She gazed up at the ceiling, dazed by what had just happened between them. She was still in her wedding gown—her very crumpled wedding gown—and lying on a long table. A console table, she realized. They hadn’t even made it out of the living room.

She’d married someone her family hated and now she was having wild sex with him on a table. She ought to be ashamed—and yet she wasn’t. She was thrilled at the illicitness of their encounter.

He wasn’t a bad man, she told herself. He wanted what was best for the baby, the same as she did, and he’d flown wedding dresses in for her so she wouldn’t have to get married in something that she’d worn to lunch or shopping with Mama and Lucia. He’d tried to make sure she had something special. That didn’t make him good by a long shot, but it made him human at least.

She was still breathing hard when he pushed off her and turned to tuck himself away. A frisson of alarm crept through her then. They’d had sex and he was done. He would leave her while he went to work on his laptop, or maybe he’d leave the apartment and go into the city and not come back until she’d fallen asleep waiting for him to return.

He caught her gaze then and quirked an eyebrow. “I’m not leaving, Tina.”

She hated that he knew what she was thinking simply from looking at her—and yet she was relieved, too.

“I hope not,” she told him, pushing herself up on her elbows. “I was quite enjoying that.”

Nico’s gaze was sharp and hot as he smoothed her gown down before he helped her to stand. Her legs were wobbly and she swayed into him. He caught her close, his fingers burning into the exposed skin of her back.

His smile scorched her. “We definitely aren’t finished yet,” he told her, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. “That was merely a prelude.”

Tina’s heart was still racing. “Some prelude.”

He kissed her. In spite of everything that had just happened, in spite of the fact she was spent, excitement blossomed in her belly, kindling like a flash fire.

“You haven’t seen anything yet,” he promised.

Nico lay in the dark and listened to the breathing of the woman beside him. She’d fallen into an exhausted sleep hours ago, but his mind wouldn’t quiet enough to let him do the same. His body was replete, drunk on sex and high on the endorphins a good release could bring—and yet, if she turned to him now and ran a soft hand over his thigh, he’d harden in an instant.

And that was what he didn’t quite understand. What was this nearly insatiable need for her?

Oh, he loved sex and women, and he’d been known to spend long nights making love to whichever woman had caught his fancy. That was not unusual in the least. Nor was the fact she was beside him in the bed. He didn’t mistake sex and sleeping for love, and he made sure the women he was with knew that.

He knew that some men left in the middle of the night, or made the woman leave, but what was the sense in that? If he woke up aroused, he wanted a soft female body in which to spend himself.

No, he didn’t leave in the middle of the night like a vampire, and he didn’t kick a woman out of bed until he tired of her. How quickly that happened depended entirely upon her.

The instant the games began—the jealousy, the pouting, the efforts to make him say that he was beginning to feel something more—she was gone.

But now he had a wife, and that wife intrigued him more than he could remember being intrigued in quite a while. His life, while full of beautiful women and all the finer things money could buy, had left him empty of late. More lonely than content, more restless than happy.

Tina, however, excited him again. He’d been so hot for her that he’d taken her on a table in the living room with the lights of Rome stretched out below. He should have made it more special for her, but he’d been unable to wait. She’d asked him not to ruin her dress—he hadn’t, but he’d damn sure creased it. After that first frantic coupling, he’d carried her to the bedroom and taken the time he should have taken initially. He’d explored her, aroused her, and satisfied her over and over.

He loved the sounds she made when she came, the way she said his name, her soft voice breaking at the end as if he were the one thing she needed in this world to survive. It was a plea, each and every time—and yet it wasn’t. He sensed there was something about her he could not touch, and it drove him crazy wondering what that was.

Did she purposely hold a part of herself back? Or was he imagining things?

He turned in the bed and slid a hand along her hip before pulling her into the curve of his body. She felt good there, and he lay beside her and just listened to her breathing.

Valentina D’Angeli. Valentina Gavretti, he corrected fiercely.

How was it that he lay here with Renzo’s little sister and the only thing he felt was protective? He should feel triumphant, as if he’d finally found the way to get beneath Renzo’s skin—but he didn’t.

She turned in his arms then, her hand coming to rest on his cheek. It made him feel fierce inside. If Renzo tried to take her away …

“Nico,” she sighed.

“Yes, cara?”

He could see her smile in the dark. “Nothing.”

His body was already reacting though he tried to think of something other than sex. But his penis was throbbing to life regardless. Sometimes it definitely had a will of its own. He did not doubt that women were right when they accused men of thinking with their genitalia.

He pushed a lock of curly hair out of her face. “Tell me something, Tina.”

“What’s that,” she asked sleepily, burrowing into him even more.

“I don’t understand how you were still a virgin.” He’d been thinking about it since she’d blasted back into his life. She was so passionate, so honest and open in her sexuality, that it didn’t make sense. She burned him up with her heat, and he craved more of the same—had since the first night he’d been with her.

She shrugged. “I never found anyone I wanted to be with.”

He’d never claimed to understand women’s minds, so he didn’t argue the point. To her, it made perfect sense. “Then why did you choose me?”

“Actually, I chose someone else,” she said, and he couldn’t stop the slice of jealousy that slammed through him. “But he smelled like garlic. You didn’t.”

Nico blinked. “You mean it came down to garlic?”

She nodded. “Yep. Garlic. One really shouldn’t eat garlic if one expects to seduce a woman.”

He couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Then I suppose I should be grateful I skipped the garlic.”

She tilted her head back on the pillow to look at him. He could feel the intensity of her gaze, even if he couldn’t actually see what was in her eyes in the dark. “Do you really mean that?”

Everything inside him grew still. He didn’t know what he meant, but he wanted to tell her not to read too much into it, though he knew that she already had. She was young and naive, at least as far as relationships went, and he couldn’t tell her the truth right now. He couldn’t tell her that he didn’t believe in love between a man and a woman. He only believed in sexual chemistry —which they had an abundance of—and that usually fizzled after a while.

Except nothing was fizzling at the moment.

“I don’t regret being your first lover, Tina.” That was most definitely true. He shifted his pelvis so she could feel the evidence of his continuing need for her.

“Oh,” she said, her voice husky. And yet he sensed she was somehow disappointed in his answer. Was it because of the baby? Or because she hoped there could be something more between them than simple lust?

He didn’t know, and he didn’t want to ask. He didn’t want to talk about expectations, or about what he thought might happen when they tired of each other. It was too soon, and he was still growing accustomed to the idea of a wife.

He wouldn’t allow this to disintegrate to the point it harmed their child, but he knew they would have to address it one day. What happened when they were ready to go their separate ways?

“Go to sleep, Tina,” he told her somewhat gruffly. He was aroused, but he’d get over it. “You need your rest.”

She made a disapproving sound. “And if I don’t want to sleep?”

He didn’t think he could grow any harder than he was in that moment. “What do you want, tesoro?”

“I think you know.”

He gathered her closer, nuzzled the hair at her temple. “Can I possibly be so lucky?”

She slid a hand over his hip. “Enjoy it while you can. I imagine things will change once this baby really starts to grow.”

She pressed her mouth to his chest, her tongue swirling against his skin as she wrapped her fingers around him and squeezed.

“Tell me what you want,” he said—groaned, really. He didn’t expect her to push him onto his back and straddle him, but he was damned happy she did. He groaned again as she sank down on top of him. Her movements were slow at first, inexpert, but they increased in tempo until he didn’t care about anything but what she did to him. He gripped her hips and thrust up into her while she gasped and moaned. When she stiffened and choked out his name, he came in a hot rush that left him gasping and spent.

“That was lovely,” she said huskily. Then she leaned down and kissed him slowly, clearly pleased with herself. His heart tapped an insane rhythm in his chest as he lay beneath her and concentrated on breathing evenly. “Really lovely.

“And, Nico,” she added when he was still trying to catch his breath and couldn’t manage to say a word. “I’m glad you were my first, too.”

A stab of unexpected emotion pierced him as he keyed in on one word. First.

First implied there would be a second. It twisted his gut into knots.

Chemistry, he told himself, as he closed his eyes and hugged her to him. It was only chemistry that made him want to punch something at the thought of her with another man.