Page 62

I hadn’t been, obviously. I wasn’t lying when I told her that it was a teenage fantasy come true, feeling her warm and wet and soft beneath my fingers. I wanted to make her come. I wanted to hear the sounds she made, wanted to feel her tremble and say my name. And that was a fucking problem, because this was Indy, dammit, a person I cared about more than anyone.

One glance at her stony profile told me she was pissed. And I wanted her to be. She wouldn’t give me a chance to explain what she’d thought she’d overheard this afternoon. I hadn’t meant what I said. I was just trying to get Sabrina off my back and to convince myself in the process that there was still time to put distance between us before I went and changed things irrevocably.

You shouldn’t have said it then, if it was all lies. No wonder she doesn’t trust you. Can you blame her? There’s so much you haven’t told her.

If she knew the whole truth, she wouldn’t want me near her at all.

The crowd spilled out onto the candlelit grass where a dozen small motorboats were lined up like taxis in the water.

“D! Come with us.” Sabrina waved from one of the boats. Without even a glance back at me, Indy went to join her, settling down in the last seat.

I shot menacing glares at the other dudes in the boat and warned, “I’ll be right behind you.”

The whole ride over my eyes didn’t quit her boat. The moon was out, heavy and bright, reflecting on the gently lapping waters of the lake. If I hadn’t been so preoccupied with following Diana, I could have appreciated the clear night sky and the stars overhead, but I only had eyes for her. When we docked I was immediately back by her side.

Sometime during the ride over to the small island, her hair had come undone. It hung nearly to her waist in thick auburn waves. I’d always marveled at the color of it under the sun, but under the Hunter’s Moon it almost appeared wreathed in fire, her pale skin set in stark contrast. I edged closer and again, using my fiancé privileges, wrapped my arm around her waist, and whispered into her ear, “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

With a disdainful sideways glance in my direction, she removed my hand and followed the curious crowd as Visconti led them inside. I hung behind still kicking myself for, on the one hand, having touched her and, on the other hand, for not having finished the job. So much for punishing Indy for her bratty antics. I was the one being punished here. Punished for the longing to feel her under my fingers again, to hear her panting in ecstasy. I could have given her that so easily, and yet I chose to play childish games like we were still teenagers.

As I watched her gently swaying hips as we walked through the doors to the villa I decided I was done playing fucking games.

Once inside the palazzo, I lost sight of Diana. The place was sensory overload, each room more fantastically baroque than the previous. The floors were marbled in geometric patterns and the ceilings painted with thousands of naked cherubs. In the hallway, dozens of bronze statues, turned green by the water, lined the walls.

The ballroom was even more impressive with floor-to-ceiling gilded mirrors reflecting the lights of hundreds of candles and a massive crystal chandelier that probably weighed as much as my jet in the middle of the room. A bar had been set up there and people were milling about waiting for the dancing to begin. Signora Visconti gestured at me to join her because I’d promised to lead her in the first dance, a waltz, like we’d practiced together in Venice. I’d been hoping she’d forget about it, but at least spinning around the room would allow me to look for Indy.

When the dance ended, however, there was still no sign of her. I scanned the crowd again for a tiny green dress, and when I still couldn’t find her the panic set back in. Okay, think, where would she go?

“Have you seen Diana?” I asked Helen Harris who was chatting with a handsome young Italian by the French doors.

“You just missed her. She went outside.”

I stepped out on the terrace and then followed the line of tall bushes around the side of the house that had been cordoned off from the guests. It was quiet here. One of the French doors was open, and when I pushed back the heavy tapestry curtains, I found her sitting on a velvet chaise staring up at a painting of a huntress with a bow in her hand and a stag slumped beneath her. The plaque below read: Diana, Goddess of the Hunt and the Moon.

As I moved up behind her, she said, “I always wondered why my mom named me Diana.”

“I think she took one look at you and knew how fierce you were.” I slid down next to her.

“Fierce? God, I’m anything but. I’m a coward.”

“Hey, don’t talk about yourself like that. You’re one of the most determined people I know.”

“Yeah, determined to get myself in trouble.”

I smiled and handed her a glass of champagne. She sipped at it and sighed then turned those dark eyes on me waiting for my next move.

“You’re not the only one.” I traced my finger along her throat. “I don’t know what I’m doing, Indy. I haven’t for a long time. The only thing I know for sure is that I want you. I always have.”

I replaced my finger with my lips, her pulse fluttering beneath my lips. Her breath caught as I pushed her back against the sofa. “Levi,” she murmured and ran her hands through my hair.

Maybe I’d regret this later because nothing would ever be the same. A kiss was one thing, a touch another. I wasn’t going to stop this time, wasn’t going to second-guess myself. I needed her. And whether she wanted to admit it or not, she needed me. I’d never been more sure of anything in my life. I’d run from it out of some misguided belief that I could cut the ties of affection that tethered me to her, only to discover that the bond between us was unbreakable. I knew that now.

My lips traced a hot path down her throat as I arched her over one arm. She fell back completely limp. When I cupped one firm breast, she moaned so loudly, it echoed in the empty space bouncing off the walls.

“Keep making those noises, Indy. Let me know how much you like it,” I said burying my lips against her cleavage.

“Why? So you can get an even bigger head?” she panted.

I winked and reached down to the hem of her tiny skirt. “You know what they say, the bigger the head, the bigger the . . .”