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She took a deep breath.
“Nothing. Well, I mean—I mean, it’s terribly late. I—I should get back to the hotel.”
“Anna.” He came toward her slowly, his eyes locked to hers. “What are you talking about?”
“The time. How late it is. And—”
“I don’t want you to leave.”
Anna grabbed the robe from his hands, stood up and quickly slipped it on. She didn’t want to be naked. As it was, she felt—she felt totally, terrifyingly exposed.
“Well, but it isn’t up to you, is it?” Her voice was brittle. She hated the sound, hated the way he was looking at her, the way she felt, confused and desperate, and there was this unpleasant, leaden feeling in her heart … “It’s up to me if I want to leave, and—”
She gasped as Draco pulled her into his arms.
“I would not have thought the Orsini consigliere would be a coward.”
“I’m not a coward. And I told you, I’m not a consigliere. I hate my father and what he stands for, and the only famiglia I’m part of is the one made up of my four brothers and my sister, and if you don’t let go of me, Draco Valenti, I’ll—I’ll—”
Draco muttered a rough phrase in Italian, hauled her to her toes and kissed her. Anna fought the kiss.
No. Not the kiss. She fought what she felt, the floodgate of emotion opening in her heart.
She trembled as Draco took his lips from hers and drew her close.
“Lo so, tesoro,” he whispered. “I know. You don’t understand this. Neither do I.” He stroked her hair, pressed his lips to her temple. “Something different, sì? This—this feeling. This emotion …”
She gave a watery laugh.
“Pasta and philosophy. What more could one ask for in the middle of the night?”
He laughed, too, and gathered her to him.
She could feel his heart beating. He could feel hers.
They stood that way for a long time. Then Anna leaned back in her lover’s arms.
“Draco,” she said softly.
“Anna,” he said just as softly.
They smiled, both thinking, again, of that first night together and how he had said her name and she had said his.
He cupped her face. Kissed her so tenderly she felt tears in her eyes.
After a long time he stepped back. Tied the sash of the robe at her waist. Looked at her, from the tips of her bare toes to the top of her tousled curls.
His smile lit her heart.
“Sei cosi bella,” he said softly.
He took her hand and kissed it. Then, fingers entwined, he led her through the still-dark villa to the kitchen.
CHAPTER TWELVE
DRACO had told the truth.
Almost.
