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Rose’s eyes were shut tight as he lifted one of her thighs, hooking her leg around his hip. ‘Look at me,’ Zac demanded.
She opened them, and he willed her to keep looking as he drove into her again and again and again. The intense battle of wills was won when she started raking his back with her nails, her body quivering and shaking against his as she pleaded hoarsely for release.
Only then did Zac unleash the demon inside him, and their worlds collided in a shattering explosion of tension that was almost fearsome in its intensity.
* * *
Hours later Zac sat on the edge of the bed, looking at the dawn breaking over the Tuscan hills, a faint mist clinging to the earth before it would be burned off by the sun.
He felt turned inside out—undone, exposed. There was movement behind him on the bed and he stood up, reaching for his trousers. He heard a sleepy and sexy-sounding, ‘Zac...? Where are you going?’ and knew what he had to do.
He’d let his guard down here in Italy. He’d told Rose too much the other night, and this was proof that given half a chance she would insert herself under his skin until she was in so deep he’d never get her out again.
He turned around. She was raised on one elbow, the sheet barely covering her lush breasts. He recalled how it had felt to drive into that perfect heat and feel the press of her swollen belly against him. Predictably his body responded, and a sense of desperation filled him.
‘I’m not going anywhere—but you are. You’re going back to New York today.’
CHAPTER NINE
THE IRONY THAT Rose was flying over the land of her parents was not lost on her as she looked out of the plane’s window. Unfortunately she was too high to see anything of the green island, but her heart ached for her mother and her father.
She’d called the clinic soon after Zac’s private plane had taken off and had spoken to her father. The operation was taking place in just over a week—a couple of days after Zac was due back in New York. Her father had sounded in good spirits, and that, at least, was some balm to her ravaged spirit.
Ravaged because she now knew that she’d lost herself body, heart and soul to Zac Valenti. And he didn’t want to know.
He’d stood in front of her that morning and every line of his body had screamed regret for what had happened the previous night. Regret and rejection.
And then she’d made it worse, because her body had still felt the bliss of his touch and she’d foolishly thought that she had to try and reach him...to make him understand. She hadn’t been able to bear the thought that he believed she’d wanted to do this to him.
She’d knelt on the bed, the sheet pulled around her, and said, ‘You have to believe me when I say that I truly never wanted to betray you, Zac.’
His face had assumed that mask of indifference she hated.
‘You say you didn’t want to do it, but you did. So which is it, Rose? I’m not in the m
ood for riddles.’
The words had trembled on her tongue. She’d ached to blurt out the whole sad and sorry story. To confess about her father... But under that infinitely cold gaze, even while her body had still held the memory of his blazing touch, she’d felt insecure. Unsure. How could he flip so easily between cold and heat? He just wanted her. He didn’t care about her. And she just couldn’t take the risk that he wouldn’t care what happened to her father.
She’d felt defeated and had sunk back down. ‘It doesn’t matter,’ she’d said.
Zac had shaken his head. ‘You clearly have an agenda here, Rose, and I know what it is.’
‘You do?’
He nodded. ‘I think you’re going to wait until the baby is born and then you’re going to pit me against my grandmother. That’s it, isn’t it? You’re going to sell my baby to the highest bidder... But you’ll wait until then—until we all know exactly what’s at stake.’
Shock and horror had coursed through her as Zac had paced towards her and his expression had grown even harder. Hard enough to strip away any sense of civility.
‘I’ve already told you I’ll do whatever it takes to bring my child up as a Valenti. And if that means ruining myself in the process, to pay the highest price, I’ll do it. I’ve done it before and I survived. I can do it again.’
Zac had stepped back then, and Rose had felt the very physical wave of his sheer animosity and hatred. Despite last night, nothing had changed. Things were actually worse. He resented her for what he saw as his weakness. A weakness of the flesh. And her heart had contracted into a small ball in her chest, as if that could offer some protection.
Zac had said finally, ‘This is the last discussion we will have on this topic until the baby is born—and, believe me, when it is I’ll be ready to fight for custody, Rose.’ He’d continued in a clipped voice. ‘When you return to New York you’ll move into the adjoining apartment to mine for the remainder of your pregnancy. We can communicate through my assistants.’
Zac had gone before Rose had been able to get over the shock of his pronouncement, and his helicopter had been taking off from the villa before she’d been able to find him again.
To say what? she mocked herself now. To say everything she should have had the guts to say before, she realised now. Far too late.
