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“There is now,” he said huskily and this time, when his gaze fell like a caress on her mouth, she cupped his jaw and drew his lips down to hers.
CHAPTER SIX
COULD a woman sink into a man’s kiss?
Yes, Fallon thought, oh yes, she could.
She wanted to drown in the heat of Stefano’s mouth, let her body melt into his. She wanted his hands on her breasts, his teeth on her skin, his mouth between her thighs.
She wanted all of that, now. Here, on the cliff overlooking the sea, with the scent of flowers mingling with the scent of saltwater. This man, this stranger, had become her friend. Her protector.
Now, he would be her lover. And she—she would become flame in his arms.
He groaned against her mouth, a sound of hot, unbridled passion. His body was hard against hers, his kisses soft and sweet even as he nipped her bottom lip between his teeth.
He wanted her as she wanted him; they’d been building to this from the moment they met and now—now it was time.
His hands lifted, cupped her breasts. His fingers skimmed over the light cotton that covered her yearning flesh and she hissed at the exquisite ache of desire that flashed from her nipples to her loins.
“Stefano,” she whispered, and he said her name, took the kiss deeper until she was filled with him, with his taste. He trailed his hands down her body, bunched her skirt in one fist, slid his fingers under her fragile summer skirt, up and up her thighs, setting flashfires where he touched her.
Fallon moaned. She raised her leg and wound it high around his.
He was burning her. Melting her. Killing her with his touch, his kisses, his hands.
“Stefano,” she said again, “please. Oh please…”
“Yes,” he said, his mouth against her throat as her head fell back. “Yes,” he said again and he cupped her between her thighs and she cried out, knowing he could feel exactly what he was doing to her, that her heat and wetness were kissing his palm.
This was what she’d longed for. Always, not just the past days or weeks but forever, from the start of time, from the first heartbeat of the universe…
And then, without warning, his arms dropped away from her. She was standing alone, shivering with the sudden chill of his rejection, and when she blinked her eyes open, she saw him looking at her as if he’d never seen her before.
“God,” he said roughly, “what are we doing?”
Fallon’s throat tightened with pain.
Stefano was staring at her through eyes that were dark, but not with passion. They were dark with shock. With pity. With distaste, and she knew, God, she knew that he’d suddenly realized what he was doing…and who he was doing it with.
How else would a man look at her now? Even this man, who had been so kind.
She wanted to weep. To curse. To slam her fists against his chest and hate him—but how could she, when she understood?
She was grotesque.
And now that she’d flung herself into Stefano’s arms, she was something even worse.
She was pathetic.
“Forgive me,” he said roughly. “I didn’t mean…”
“No.” Fallon could feel herself shaking. She wrapped her arms around herself and drew a deep, deep breath. “No,” she repeated, “of course you didn’t.”
“Fallon.” He held out his hand. She glanced at it, shook her head and took a quick step back.
“It’s all right, Stefano. I understand.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Yes. So am I.” She forced herself to look up, to meet his eyes as she searched for something to say before she fled. “It was—it was just something that happened. I mean, I didn’t…I had no intention of…” God, oh God, she wanted to die! “It’s been such a strange couple of weeks…”
“For me, too,” he said quickly, grabbing the lifeline she’d tossed. “Otherwise, I’d never—”
“I know. Neither would I.”
“I wouldn’t have—have taken advantage of you that way.”
She nodded. He was being a gentleman, taking the blame for her humiliating loss of control when they both knew that his kiss had been affectionate, that she was the one who’d dragged his head down to hers and turned the kiss into something hot and dangerous.
“We’ll just—we’ll forget this happened,” she said, forcing a smile to her lips. “All right?”
He nodded, his eyes still locked to hers, the look of pity so obvious that she wanted to weep.
How would she ever be able to face him again?
“Well.” She cleared her throat. “I, uh, I appreciate our talk.”
“Our…? Oh. That.”
“That. Yes. And—and you’re right. I have to start facing the world again.”
Stefano nodded. He didn’t seem capable of saying anything sensible, and that made nodding his head like one of those damned plastic toys the safest bet.
How in hell could he have done this? Lost control, pawed a woman still weak from an accident that had changed her life? He’d meant only to reassure her, let her know that he cared for her, that he’d take care of her. Instead, he’d come on to her with all the subtlety of a bull moose in rut.
What kind of man made a move on a woman who kept telling him how grateful she was for all his kindness and understanding? Damn it, he didn’t want her returning his kisses out of gratitude, he wanted her to respond to him because she wanted him, but how could she know what she wanted when the wounds to her soul were so new?
She’d come a long way but she was still fragile, still vulnerable. What son of a bitch would take advantage of her in that condition?
When she was healed, both outside and in, he’d take her in his arms again, tell her that he wanted to make love to her, to change that look of thankfulness in her eyes to a look of deepest passion…
“…not tonight.”
He blinked, focused his eyes on Fallon and realized she was slowly backing toward the house.
“Sorry?”
“I said, I’ll think about everything we discussed. You know. Your advice. And—and we’ll talk again, but not—”
“Fine. We can talk in the morning.” He smiled. Not an easy thing to do, when you’d made such an ass of yourself moments before. What in hell had he been thinking? “Join me for breakfast.”
“Oh, no. I mean, Anna will bring my breakfast to my room, the way she always—”
“She won’t.”
Fallon lifted her eyebrows. “Excuse me?”
He’d spoken without thinking but now that he had, he knew it was the right thing to say.
“I’m going to tell her that you’ll be taking your meals downstairs from now on. With me.”
The look of horror on her face almost made him laugh. His elegant PA had once come to work wearing one brown shoe and one black one. When she’d realized it, Paula had looked the same way Fallon did now.
“That’s not possible,” she said quickly. “I mean—I mean, I’m not quite up to—”
“Is eight too early for breakfast?”
“If I were going to eat breakfast, eight would be fine, but I never—”
“Anna told me. Black coffee, right?”
Fallon cocked her head. “Anna told you?”
“Yes. Coffee for breakfast, a lettuce leaf for lunch—”
“She told you,” she repeated, her tone gone icy, “as in, your housekeeper’s been reporting my habits to you?”
Stefano shrugged his shoulders. “I wouldn’t put it that way.”
“No?” She folded her arms. Being angry at him for his smug arrogance was safer than standing here and wishing the ground would open up and swallow her. “Well, I would. And I repeat, I’d rather eat upstairs.”
“And I repeat, you’ll be taking your meals with me.”
Fallon narrowed her eyes. What was that old saying about leopards not changing their spots? She’d pegged Stefano Lucchesi right on Day One. Too bad his angel of mercy disguise hadn’t lasted.
“I don’t take orders very well, signore. Perhaps we’d both be better off if I kept that appointment I made with a taxi.”
His smile was slow and taunting. “Did you have an appointment, signorina? Strange, considering that I haven’t seen or heard a car since we’ve been out here.”
Now that she thought about it, neither had she. Fallon frowned and looked at her watch. More than an hour had gone by since the cab was supposed to meet her at the gate…
Slowly, she lifted her head.
“Your guards turned my cab away,” she said flatly.
“They have their orders. Nobody comes in, without my permission…”
