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“Saving my life.”
He smiled down at her. “You practically fell onto my lap.”
“Still, you didn’t have to jump into the canal to save me.” But she was so grateful he had. Was it just gratitude warming her insides? She really didn’t think so. She had met many handsome men in London and yet, not one of them ever set her heart beating as swiftly as this man had.
“I couldn’t let you drown,” he replied. “It would have been ungentlemanly of me.”
She’d been waiting for years for a man to fire her passion. The ladies she had matched with husbands had told her how they knew the man was the right one with just a single kiss. She desperately wanted him to kiss her, touch her . . . make love to her.
Make love? Could she really want to do such a thing with him? She’d only just met him.
Her gaze slid down from his eyes to his lips. Experiencing passion with this handsome man would be a lovely end to a long trip. She couldn’t take her gaze off his lips. Full and beautifully molded lips. She had to kiss him.
“What is your name?” she finally asked.
His dark brow furrowed, and he paused a bit before answering, “Nico. And you?”
Instinctively, she knew he was lying. But why? What was he trying to hide from her? Could he be married? A libertine? Glancing around the room, she doubted either was the case. The high ceiling was painted with cherubs and angels, a large crystal chandelier dominated the ceiling. But the rest of the room was remarkably stark and functional. Not the sort of room a wife would like, also not the sort to impress a woman as a libertine might prefer.
She reached out and clasped his hand in hers. Closing her eyes, she attempted to read something from him. He was difficult to read. She’d had other people who were hard to read, but he was the most challenging. The only thing she felt was he wasn’t a rake. He loved and respected women.
With a small smile, she opened her eyes to see him staring down at her with a look of confusion. “Your name?” he asked again.
“My name is Sophia,” she said, giving the Italian version of her name.
“Sophia,” he whispered.
Watching his lips move as he said her name brought her mind back to kissing him. But would he want more than a kiss? Could she give him more? The more she stared at him, the warmer her body felt. If this man was important in her life, and he must be in some way, then giving herself to him would be either a wonderful thing or the biggest mistake ever.
She didn’t think he could be a blunder. Taking him to bed might be the thing that would break her free, allowing her to see her own future clearly for once instead of the strange hazy image she had received tonight. Once she’d been with him, maybe her personal insight would be stronger.
“Sophia, are you married?” he asked softly, breaking the silence that had enveloped them.
“No. Are you?”
He smiled down at her. “No.”
She wondered why he hadn’t commented on her Italian. Her grasp of the language was excellent but still, he should have noticed her accent. Yet, he never asked her about it, or from where she originated.
She wondered what would happen if she let him seduce her tonight. Would he discover that she was the woman for him? Would he prevent her from leaving Venice in three days as she’d planned?
She rather thought he would.
If he was the man for her, as she believed, then making love with him was perfectly acceptable. All of her friends had been with their husbands before marriage. None of them would condemn her for making the same decision.
She skimmed her finger up his strong arm. He tensed under her whispered touch, but she sensed his desire. One thing was for certain, if and when she returned to England, she would not be a virgin.
His eyes widened as she trailed her fingers up to his neck and slowly brought him closer. As he leaned over, she said, “I am still quite cold. Do you think you could warm me?”
Chapter 2
Nicholas stared at her for a long moment. He had no idea what made him pause. Here was a beautiful woman who wanted him to make love to her, and he hesitated. What the bloody hell was wrong with him?
Perhaps Sophia would be the woman to break the spell the other woman he loved had on him. He wasn’t looking for love with Sophia, just the ability to forget for a while. His erection throbbed, wanting him to make the right choice. With his mouth only inches from her full lips, he made his decision.
“I believe I can warm you thoroughly.”
He leaned forward and gently kissed her lips. Desire rushed through him as she responded to him. He deepened the kiss, slipping his tongue into her mouth. Hearing her soft moan of pleasure sent him over the edge. He had to have her tonight. Nothing would stop him now.
