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He turned away from her, heading for the door. Seeing him leave galvanised her into action.
‘Don’t go!’
At that, Alessandro turned slowly around to face her.
‘I…I want you to stay,’ Megan said.
The words had a familiar ring about them, but she shoved that to the back of her mind. She had been nineteen when she had last begged him to stay! She was twenty-six now, and anyway she wasn’t, she told herself, begging him to stay. At least not the way she once had when he had been her entire universe and she had wanted to follow him to the ends of the earth.
‘But on my terms,’ she added, as he began walking towards her.
‘Which are…?’
‘That…that…it’s just about the sex. Okay, I admit I’m still attracted to you, but I don’t want to get involved with you…’ What a joke. She had never not been involved with him, but she had learnt a thing or two about self-defence, and the first rule, she thought now, was to keep that vulnerable side to herself. But somehow, some way, she had to get over this incredible pull of attraction between them. An attraction that was driving her crazy.
‘Sex without involvement…After my mistakes with Victoria, I’m all in favour of those terms…’ He cupped her face with his hands and stroked her cheeks with his thumbs. Her skin was soft, like satin, and touching her was hauntingly and erotically familiar. ‘Shall we go up to your bedroom, or is your keeper going to hear us and come out swinging a heavy object?’
‘She’s not that protective!’ Megan felt as though she was on the edge of a precipice, with one foot dangling over the side.
‘We could always stay down here,’ Alessandro murmured. ‘Although the sofa might prove challenging for me, and somehow making love after seven years in front of a radiator instead of an open fire just doesn’t seem…’ for a minute he almost said romantic enough ‘…to fit the bill…’
They went to her bedroom like a couple of teenagers stealthily trying not to wake the adults—although Charlotte wasn’t in the room next door. In fact, the bathroom and airing cupboard separated their rooms, and the house, while small, was old, and hence the walls were thick. Unless they made a great deal of noise, there was no chance that she would wake up.
The minute the bedroom door was shut they faced one another, each absorbing the reality of the decision they had made.
‘Shall I tell you what I want to do?’ Alessandro murmured huskily. ‘I want to rip your clothes off and take you right here, right now, against the wall…But God, Megan, I won’t—because I want to enjoy every inch of your glorious body slowly…’ He stood back, breathing heavily. He had never been so turned on in his life before, and he didn’t dare touch her—not yet, not until his body was ready to behave itself.
He removed the rugby shirt. They had switched on the overhead light, but now Megan went across to her chest of drawers and lit the three scented candles which had permanent residence in her bedroom.
‘I see you still have that bad habit,’ Alessandro admonished, but with a smile in his voice.
She was smiling too when she replied, ‘I know, I know. Fire hazard. But don’t they smell wonderful?’ She looked at him across the width of the small bedroom. It had seemed all wrong before to look at him, to look at him, but now there were no such limits, and she feasted her eyes greedily on his powerful body, like a starving person suddenly offered the vision of a banquet. When it came to male perfection he had broken the mould. His arms were strong and sinewy, his broad shoulders tapering to a narrow waist which led down to…to…
Megan drew in her breath, shuddering, as he began removing the sweatpants and then his boxer shorts.
‘Are we taking turns?’ Alessandro asked, oozing satisfaction as he watched her helpless reaction to his nudity. His very turned-on nudity. Having her look at him was almost as much of a turn-on as having her touch him, and both ranked second place to him touching her.
He strolled towards her double bed and lay down with one hand behind his head enjoying watching her watching him.
‘Okay. Start with the robe. But do it very, very slowly…’
God, this felt so damned good, lying here on her bed, looking at her as she peeled off the pink dressing gown to reveal the pyjamas she still wore. He had never been able to persuade her to abandon the habit, and he was beginning to think that there might well be something in it—because he was certainly getting a massive buzz, watching her as she took off first the striped drawstring bottoms, and then, oh, so slowly, off came the tee shirt top.
