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“But why? Why did Johann want to adopt Gabby?”
“If I’m being generous I’ll say sentimental reasons, but I’m not generous and I think his motives were purely financial. He was greedy. He thought if he adopted Gabby, he’d have access to her trust fund.”
“But he wouldn’t?”
“No. I’m not her guardian but I’m the trustee. Gabby doesn’t even have access until she’s twenty-five.”
“You were right,” Sam said after a moment, teeth chattering from shock not cold. “Gabby’s not even five yet and already men want her for her money. It’s so wrong, too. Gabby’s beautiful, and smart, and funny. But even better, she has a gorgeous heart. She should be loved, and loved for herself.”
“But isn’t that what everyone wants?” Cristiano countered softly.
He was right. It was what she wanted, it’s what she’d always wanted. She blinked back tears but Cristiano saw them. He swept the tip of his finger beneath each of her eyes to catch her tears, and she grabbed his hand, wrapped her fingers around his, and held on.
He tugged her to her feet and brought her toward him. Sam stared up into his face wide-eyed. With one hand he tilted her face to his, and the other he slid down her back, his hand so hot against her skin, his hand settling low in her back, pressing against her, melting something inside her, heating a part of her that had never been warmed.
She could feel his thighs nudge hers, feel his deep chest expand as he took a breath and then his head dropped as he cupped her face in his hand and covered her mouth with his.
As if he could feel her stiffen and resist, Cristiano gentled the kiss, stroked her cheek, her resistance melted.
Slowly he deepened the kiss, opening her mouth persuasively beneath his and Sam sighed as Cristiano’s tongue slid across her tingling lower lip.
Her brain was telling her no but her body was melting into his.
And then even her brain was melting as his tongue touched hers, and his hand briefly covered her breast, his palm firm against her nipple, and she trembled, and helplessly she moved closer, wanting more, wanting him.
His kiss, and the caress, electrified her. She’d never felt anything like it. And when he eventually lifted his head, she couldn’t move, couldn’t think. All she could do was look at him with wide, bemused eyes.
Seeing her confusion, he smiled grimly and dropped his head, pressed another kiss to her jawbone near her ear, and whispered, “I’ve no morals. Don’t trust me. Don’t think I’m a good guy. I’m not. I will never be.”
He walked out of the room, out the front door in nothing but shirt and slacks. And it wasn’t him walking out that shook her, but her response to him, her response to the kiss.
She’d never felt anything like that before and it dazzled her, made her realize he was even more dangerous than she’d thought.
But it was only a kiss, she reminded herself. Cristiano had kissed many, many women in his life and Sam was sure they didn’t all fall head over heels in love with him. And she wasn’t head over heels in love, either.
But he had rocked her.
She’d liked the kiss, wouldn’t have stopped the kiss, wouldn’t have stopped him.
Her skin still tingled and tightened across her cheekbone. Her mouth felt soft, her lower lip quivering. Even her body felt warm, pliant.
She wanted him, more of him, more of whatever he could give her.
Cristiano left the cottage, stepping out into the still white landscape.
The moon was high, the snow had briefly stopped and the light shone on a distant oak tree, turning the ancient gnarled limbs into a glittering ice sculpture.
They needed to get back to Monte Carlo, he thought.
He didn’t want to be here anymore. He felt increasingly trapped here. It was time to get home, get back to work, get on with his life.
Sam wasn’t part of his life. He’d take care of her financially, especially since she had no money, no family, nowhere to go. He’d set her up in a little house, help her find work…
Christ, who was he kidding?
He didn’t want to set her up in a little house somewhere and find her work.
He wanted to drag her into his bed and take his sweet time making love to her.
