Читать книгу Italian Mavericks: Carrying The Italian's Heir: Married for the Italian's Heir / The Last Heir of Monterrato / The Surprise Conti Child - Andie Brock, Tara Pammi - Страница 19

CHAPTER SEVEN

PIPER WATCHED DANTE as he strode across the high-ceilinged living room of the villa. The look on his face was intense her heart beat a little faster. He looked as if he wanted to devour her there and then. The same expression he’d had as they’d entered his hotel room in London.

‘You made a good impression this evening.’ He stopped striding and stood, leaning one arm along the cream stone of the fireplace, and she fought hard against the dark and passionate look which filled his eyes—and the way her body responded.

She couldn’t want him—not after he’d shown his true colours, shown himself to be a sharp and driven businessman who would stop at nothing to achieve his ultimate aims. He was using her and their baby. How could she find such a man attractive when all she’d ever dreamed of was a caring, loving man? He was so wrong for her, and yet being with him felt so right. Just as before, she wanted to be with him in every way possible, to risk everything and feel his kiss, his touch.

She certainly hadn’t been fooled by his subdued and grief-laden voice as he’d spoken of his brother at the dinner table. He’d spoken of how difficult things had been for his mother, bringing up two young boys. Such a revelation had come as a shock, but she hoped she’d hidden it well. After all, as his fiancée she would have known such things.

‘I did my best,’ she said now, and sat down on one of the large, comfortable sofas. She couldn’t stay in the middle of the room, watching him as if she were waiting for something to happen. She was certain that at any moment the tension around them would snap.

‘You were utterly brilliant and you won D’Antonio over. He loved you. He practically melted each time you spoke and you know it.’

There was a caustic edge to his words as they sliced through the atmosphere in the room and she knew right there and then that something had changed. It felt different between them, and she didn’t know what it was.

‘Telling him of your passion for art was a clever move.’

‘It is real, Dante. It is what I would have done if I hadn’t given up university when my father became ill.’

‘A well-played move, no?’

‘I should go to bed.’ She got up. The need to escape both the brooding man who dominated every bit of space in the room and the way her body yearned for his touch and his kiss was overwhelming. She definitely had to go.

‘Tell me about your father’s illness.’

Dante’s words froze her to the spot and she looked at him, still standing without a care in the world, so casually leaning on the mantelpiece of the fireplace.

‘There’s nothing more to tell.’ She fired the words defensively back at him as grief assailed her, rushing back so strongly her legs felt weak. She wanted to sit down, but doing so would mean staying beneath his scrutiny.

‘It would have helped me to know of such a detail before spending the evening with D’Antonio, trying to convince him we are a couple in love—a couple about to marry and share our lives—which means sharing our pasts.’

‘That’s something you too are guilty of.’

He pushed firmly away from the fireplace and came towards her, but she couldn’t move, even though she knew she should. The fierce intensity in his eyes struck fear into her heart, closely followed by anticipation. For what, she didn’t know.

‘But we are not really sharing our lives, are we, Dante? We are engaged to be married, and it is merely for the convenience of your business deal.’

Now all the worries she’d had about the future over the last week pushed forth and she couldn’t stem the flow of words.

‘What will happen when you get your stupid deal? Will you walk away from me, from your child, as if we never existed?’

Dante closed the distance between them, coming to stand very close to her, making her heart pound in a way she’d only experienced once before, on the night he took her hand and led her to his hotel room.

‘You don’t think very highly of me, do you, cara?’

He spoke softly, serving only to irritate her further. She wasn’t a sullen child to be appeased.

‘Your reputation isn’t exactly squeaky clean, Dante. What am I supposed to think?’

She wasn’t about to stand there and discuss this tonight, least of all admit how much she liked him—and more. She was tired—which, together with the pregnancy, must be the reason for her emotions being all over the place. It couldn’t be Dante. She didn’t want it to be Dante—didn’t want him to affect her.

‘I never go back on a deal, Piper. Ever.’ A firm and sharp edge speared into his words, and if they’d been discussing anything else she might just have fallen for it. ‘I needed to know about your father’s illness. It’s the sort of detail a loving fiancé would know.’

‘Very well.’ She flounced away from him, desperate to reinstate the distance between them. She couldn’t deal with the scent of his aftershave invading her senses, the heat of his body so very close to hers, and definitely not his dark penetrating gaze, watching her so intently. ‘What do you need to know?’

‘When did he die?’

Piper closed her eyes briefly and took a deep breath, not sure she could do this now, but acutely aware that what he said made sense. If they were to look like a newly engaged couple he had to know at least something about her.

‘The night I met you in London was the first anniversary of his death.’ She lifted her chin and looked into his eyes, unwittingly sending him a challenge to ask more. A challenge he took.

‘So you used the attraction between us as a way to escape?’ He visibly stiffened before her, his whole body becoming rigid and his dark eyes almost fusing her to the spot.

‘Yes,’ she stated boldly, still ashamed at the way she’d needed to rebel against everything she’d stood for, every moral she’d been brought up to believe in. The only problem now was that she could see why her mother had insisted they both move to London. To keep what little of her family she had left together. Wasn’t she herself about to throw her life into this man’s hands for the sake of her unborn child?

‘Why me? Had you planned this outcome all along? This unexpected pregnancy?’

He flung his hands up in a gesture of frustration and turned away from her, giving her time to recover. But any recovery was short-lived. The next time he looked at her angry sparks glittered in his eyes.

‘Was that why you didn’t insist on contraception?’

‘No!’ she gasped, and stepped back away from his anger. ‘I thought you were telling me it was taken care of.’

He moved towards her and she took another step back until she met the coolness of the wall behind her, finding strength in it.

‘Did you perhaps know who I was that night?’

‘I had no idea who you were, and if I had I would never, ever have left the party with you.’ Angered by her silly notions of fate having brought them together, on that night of all nights, she met his fury head-on. ‘I can’t do this any more.’

He moved menacingly closer. ‘What can’t you do?’

His voice had deepened, his accent heightened, and the look in his dark eyes of anger blending with veiled passion made her heart thump so hard it almost hurt.

‘This pretence,’ she flung at him, unable to unlock her gaze from his or stop the pounding of her heart.

‘And what pretence would that be, cara?’

‘The...the engagement.’ She stammered the words out as he moved a little closer, those sexy eyes looking deep into her soul, as if finding the answer she couldn’t even give herself.

‘I think you mean the cold indifference you have adopted since you arrived in Rome.’

‘It is the only way to get through this charade.’ She hated it that her voice gave her away and turned into a whisper, that his close proximity was starving her of the last remnants of stamina and strength she had left after the last few hours.

‘But it is not all a charade—is it, mia cara?’

He touched her face, the contact of his fingers on her skin so soft, but she couldn’t stop the deep breath being dragged from her. And she hated the satisfaction which played on his lips and sparked in his eyes. She hated him and yet she wanted him. Badly.

‘Of course it is.’ Her breathing was impossible to control and she drew it in deep and hard as he looked down to her neck, where he must surely see her pulse beating wildly, and then to her breasts, which rose and fell with each deep breath. ‘You mean nothing to me.’

‘Don’t lie.’

The intensity in his eyes sent a spiral of hot need flooding down through her, right to the very heart of her femininity.

‘Or I may have to prove you wrong...prove how untrue that is.’

‘Don’t you dare!’ she gasped in shock, while inside a traitorous voice called, I dare you to.

The glint in his eyes fired with desire and she knew exactly what he was going to do. He was going to kiss her—and she wanted him to. She wanted to feel his lips on hers, to taste him and so much more. But that wasn’t the deal they’d made. The deal they’d made had been on paper only, was one that meant they would have nothing physical to do with each other and certainly nothing emotional.

‘Never challenge me, Piper. I always accept—and I always win.’

‘Not this time.’ She glared up at him, more angry at her own reaction to him than at his boast of always winning.

‘So...’ His brows rose suggestively and he placed the palm of one hand on the wall, leaning over her so that his face was so close she only needed to lift her chin and her lips would find his. ‘The challenge still stands, no?’

‘No...’ She dragged the hoarse whisper out, hoping for resolve but knowing she sounded more as if she’d dissolved.

‘And if I kiss you will it do nothing to you?’

‘Of course it won’t. There is nothing between us.’ Thankfully that declaration had sounded more convincing.

‘Are you quite sure, cara?’

His palm spread across her face, the pad of his thumb caressing the line of her lips, and she hated the way her eyes closed and the sound of her breath was ragged and uneven before a soft sigh slipped from her.

Why should she fight it? Whatever it was that had exploded between them in London was still there. She wanted to experience it again, to lose herself in the moment of oblivion. She wanted him—and didn’t having what you shouldn’t want get things out of your system?

* * *

Dante braced his arm against the wall as he looked down at Piper. His thumb tingled from sliding it over the lips he ached to kiss. He hadn’t slept with a woman since that night in London, telling himself he was too busy, but now he knew it was because he’d still wanted Piper. Somehow she’d crossed over the usually impenetrable barriers around his emotions and now, after spending a week with her, he had to accept the truth. He still yearned for her and there was only one way to deal with such needs. Sate them.

He looked down at her. Expectancy was in those luscious green eyes. She wanted him as much as he wanted her. The hot, sultry passion which swirled in her eyes matched that which spiralled deep within him. Pure carnal lust. Just as it had been the night they’d come together so explosively in London. A night which had changed his life in more ways than he’d anticipated since she’d dropped her bombshell news that morning in his office.

‘You are so beautiful.’ His thoughts became words—not out of a need to charm, as was his usual seduction routine, but because he wanted her to know what he truly felt. ‘And all I want to do right now is kiss you.’

She wrapped her arms around his neck and he pushed his body against her, pinning her to the wall, delving his fingers in the mass of soft red curls which framed her face. His eyes met hers briefly as their faces almost touched, and it satisfied him to see insatiable desire spark higher than ever, setting off a wild reaction within him.

She was his. This woman was his. And tonight he would reclaim her in the most basic way. He lowered his head, intending to brush his lips over hers and tease her into wanting him, but drew in a sharp breath as her lips met his, the need in them undeniable as she took control of the kiss, demanding almost too much from him.

He cursed in Italian against her mouth, tasting her as he did so, tasting her hunger and the desire which matched his, spark for spark. He pressed her harder against the wall, feeling her breasts against his chest and her hips moving wantonly, making him harder than he’d ever been.

He pulled back, briefly stunned by the ferocity of the desire which had leapt like flames around them. The fire of lust threatened to claim them, and right now it was all he wanted.

Piper plunged her fingers into his hair, pulling him back to her. ‘Kiss me,’ she demanded, and he smiled as he recognised the woman he’d made love to in London.

The hot temptress who’d pushed him further than any woman had ever done was back, and this time she wouldn’t be slipping away. Not until he was ready to let her go.

‘I intend to do more than kiss you.’ The guttural growl which left him sounded positively feral, and his whole body pulsed with desire, demanding immediate satisfaction.

Before he could say anything else she pressed her lips against his once more, the kiss demanding and erotic. She gasped into his mouth as his tongue met hers, sending his heart rate soaring. Only once before had he experienced such wild passion, such fierce desire, and that had been with this woman. The one who’d given her virginity to him and now carried his child. She was truly his. No matter what happened that would never change.

He slid his palm down her throat, pausing as her kiss deepened, became more demanding. Then he moved his hand over her breast, her nipple a tight bud beneath the fabric of her dress, and he had an uncontrollable urge to rip the fabric from her, to expose the delicious breasts so he could taste them and nip at them with his teeth until she cried out with pleasure as she had done that last time.

‘Dante...’ She groaned his name softly against his lips and pressed her hips tighter against him.

An explosion of hot need was rushing through him. There wouldn’t be any stopping now. This fiery desire had to meet its conclusion, and fast.

While he kissed her, teasing her tongue with his, he slid his hand down to her waist then on to her hips, grasping the fabric of the dress and rucking it up until he could move his hand inside it and feel the soft, warm skin of her thigh. She stopped kissing him and he looked at her as desire throbbed relentlessly in every part of him, demanding satisfaction.

The look in those green eyes still dared him, still goaded him to take her. Her breath was fast and hard, her lips bruised, but still it wasn’t enough. He began to stroke her gently with his fingers, and watched as she held her breath when he touched her through her panties. She was as hot for him as he was for her.

‘Do you still dare me?’ he said hoarsely as he ceased his exploration, moving instead back to her hips and the thin strip of lace which was all that stopped him from claiming her as his once more.

Anger sparked in her eyes, making fireworks of passion and fury explode in them.

‘Yes,’ she whispered raggedly as her fingers entwined in the hair at the nape of his neck, sending shivers of pleasure he’d never known before down his back. ‘I still dare you.’

He held her gaze as he hitched his fingers around the lace and gently pulled. She continued to glare at him, and that mix of anger and fiery passion was almost his undoing. She raised her brow, its slender arch lifting higher in the most alluring way.

‘Are you sure, cara?’

‘I dare you,’ she whispered fiercely, in a sexy and husky way, doing untold things to him.

In one swift tug he’d pulled her tiny lace panties apart at the seam.

‘Dante!’ She gasped in surprise, but made no move to prevent anything else he might do.

‘And do you still insist there is nothing between us?’

‘Yes.’ Her green eyes widened as he moved his hand, trailing his fingers through the curls which shielded her hot, feminine warmth. ‘Nothing at all.’

‘Yet you want my touch, don’t you, cara?’

She closed her eyes as he slid his fingers between her thighs. Hot need pulsed through him as he felt how much she wanted him, but he had to remain in control. He had to be the one to lead this frenzied and unexpected dance of desire.

‘Dante, we can’t... Please don’t...’ She gasped as his touch teased her, pushing her closer and closer to the brink.

‘We can and we will.’

He continued to touch and explore her, increasing his need to thrust deep into her—but first he wanted to push her to a climax, to prove how much she wanted him. She writhed against him and clung to him as that climax shook over her body. She was so responsive, so hot. He wanted her right there, against the wall. He couldn’t stop now.

* * *

Piper opened her eyes, hardly able to believe what had just happened. She felt weak, but still wanted more, and that heady need drove any last remnants of sense from her mind as her shaking hands moved downward to unfasten his trousers. She had to feel him. She had to touch him in the same mind-blowing way he’d touched her. And more importantly she had to take back the control he’d stolen from her with such alarming ease.

He bowed his head almost to her shoulder as with one hand he intervened and freed the hard length of his erection. She felt its heated hardness as he nipped at her neck, the sensation so wild, so new and exciting, she thought she might lose her mind. A deep growl came from him as she wrapped her fingers around him.

Before she could act on any of the new and strange needs filling her body Dante lifted her up. Instinctively she wrapped her legs around him, using the wall behind her to keep her where she wanted to be—intimately against him.

He looked at her, his eyes so black with desire, so intense, they sent a shower of need all over her. Emboldened by the power she now seemed to possess over him, she moved her hips until she could feel the heat of him touch her.

Something wild and unknown was whipping around them like a storm, and it spiralled ever higher. All she could do was look down into the blackness of his eyes as he held her and then the storm stilled. The air around them was heavy with expectancy. She’d heard of the eye of the storm, but had never expected it be like this—with a man like Dante Mancini.

‘Dante?’ she said expectantly, wanting more and yet suddenly wondering if she’d gone too far.

His answer was a demanding and bruising kiss, and she closed her eyes as his tongue forced itself into her mouth, starting up the wild and erotic dance once more. She moved her hips as he held her against the wall, positioning herself so that she could feel him, tease him, punish him.

A fluid Italian curse left his lips as he broke the kiss to pull back slightly and look at her. Again that expectancy filled the air. His eyes turned sinfully black and he moved with her. In that moment she realised she hadn’t been in control at all—she hadn’t even been the one teasing or punishing him. But she didn’t care about any of that any more. All she wanted was Dante deep inside her. Now.

As if he’d read her thoughts he thrust into her, pushing her hard against the wall as his fingers gripped her naked thighs, keeping her just where he wanted her. Just where she wanted to be. She clung to him as if her life depended on it. Maybe it did.

Passion engulfed her as he pulled back, then thrust into her again. An explosion of pulsing need erupted inside her as each thrust took him deeper into her. She moved with him, as if her body had been born to do this with him. He’d awoken the woman in her that night in London, and now all she wanted was to be totally possessed by him.

As she moved his lips sought hers in a kiss so wild and passionate her head spun with dizziness and she closed her eyes, giving herself up to the sensation of being Dante’s. With each passing second their breaths became harder and faster. Erratically he kissed down her throat as she let her head fall back against the wall, unable to do anything other than follow the moment.

‘Dante!’ she cried out as he pushed her higher and faster towards yet another climax. Each frenzied move he made was taking him deeper inside her, exactly where she wanted him to be.

His reply, savage and foreign, only heightened her need for him and she moved with him in a wild dance where all sense or reason was lost.

‘You are mine, Piper—mine.’

As the world around her exploded his hoarsely whispered words didn’t mean anything and she cried out again, aware of Dante’s harsh cries as he too found his release.

She clung to him as her body began to shake but didn’t dare say anything. Her pulse slowed and she knew she’d played a dangerous game—and lost. The last words he’d said before they’d both exploded with desire had been triumphant, proving that whatever had sparked between them in London was still there and that she wanted him as much as ever.

He looked at her, his dark eyes still wild and full of desire. Slowly he released her, and when her feet touched the floor she was glad of the wall for support. Without a word he took her hand and led her to the stairs.

This wasn’t finished yet—and neither did she want it to be.