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‘Mmm.’ Kate did her flirty little pirouette, and heard him suck in a ragged breath. She turned round to face him, unprepared for the look of dark, unspoken anger on his face.
‘You don’t like it,’ she observed in surprise.
‘Who bought it for you?’ he demanded.
‘What?’
‘You heard what I said! A woman does not buy these kind of garments for herself. A man buys these for his mistress!’
‘So?’ she interjected furiously. ‘That’s exactly what I am, isn’t it?’
‘Kate—’
She shook her head in anger. ‘Just what are you suggesting, Giovanni—that as soon as you got on the plane back to Sicily I replaced you with another stud in my bed?’
Just the thought of it filled him with a murderous rage. ‘And did you?’
She very nearly slapped him round the face. ‘The fact that you feel the need to ask makes me wonder why I ever agreed to come here,’ she told him icily, stooping to retrieve her skirt, but he stayed her, placing his hand on her elbow and gently levering her back up to face him.
‘Kate—’
‘Take your hands off me,’ she said, despising herself for the lack of conviction in her voice.
His voice dropped to a placatory caress. ‘I should not have said that, cara mia—’
‘No, you bloody well shouldn’t! If you must know—I bought it…’ her voice faltered as she wondered about the wisdom of admitting this ‘…for you!’
‘For me?’
Truthful she was allowed to be, but only up to a point. No need to tell him that if she was going to play the part of mistress then she would play it with a vengeance. And a mistress being reunited with her Sicilian lover would surely wear the finest and flimsiest silk and satin to clothe her body. Delicate garments which she had imagined him slowly or not-so-slowly removing. Garments which would guarantee another invitation for another weekend…
‘I’ll go and get some big knickers and a plain navy bra if that will make you feel better!’ she declared, but he shook his head, and his blue eyes looked almost luminous as he lifted her chin with the tip of his finger.
‘Nothing will make me feel better than having you back in my arms again, Kate,’ he told her gently. ‘Come. Come to me.’
And with a helpless little moan she did exactly that.
He laced his fingers into the thick abundance of her hair and drew her into his body, her warm scent drifting over his senses and igniting their fire. ‘I’ve missed you,’ he murmured.
‘Honestly?’
‘Of course. Do you imagine that you are easy to forget?’
She felt his hands slide from her hair to cup the smooth globes of her bottom, and she gave a little cry. She had missed him, too—but she certainly wasn’t going to tell him how much.
Because mistresses did not make such statements of ardour and commitment. That tended to scare the object of their affection away. Instead, she began to unbutton his shirt. ‘There’s a time for talking,’ she said shakily.
‘And that time isn’t now,’ he agreed, his eyes closing as her questing fingers found his nipples and began to stroke enticing little circles.
It took him precisely ten seconds to remove her clothes.
‘You’ve hardly noticed all my new finery!’ she complained as the bra slithered off to join the skirt.
‘Another time! I want to see you naked,’ he ground out, his breath hot and urgent as it sucked on one tight and hungry breast and she gave a sharp gasp of pleasure.
Her fingers faltered with the buckle of his belt as she felt him slide the thong right off, his hands lingering suggestively on her bottom, and sliding briefly against the cool flesh of her inner thighs, until she was left wearing nothing but a pair of emerald-green high-heels.
He threw his shirt off and stepped out of his trousers and underpants just as Kate bent over to unstrap her shoes.
