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‘She will be. I’ll take of her.’
‘I know.’ His eyes met hers and he was suddenly conscious of her warm hands on his chest. ‘And what about you?’
There was a beat of silence.
‘Me?’ She seemed stunned by the question. ‘I don’t—It’s not—’
‘I want to look after you, Imma.’ He stopped. ‘Look, I messed up. Ciro too. We were wrong. We made this about you and Claudia and that was wrong,’ he repeated. ‘Our fight is with your father—not you.’ His heart began to beat faster. ‘I want to make it up to you. What I’m trying to say is... Could we start this year over?’
Her face didn’t change, and nor did she reply.
‘If you need more time—’ he began.
‘I don’t,’ she said quietly.
He felt a rush of misery and regret, but then his pulse leapt as her hand splayed across his chest.
‘But if we start again it has to be different. No more lies, Vicè. No more games. Agreed?’
At that moment, with her body so warm and soft and close to his, he would have agreed to just about anything.
‘Agreed,’ he said hoarsely.
There was a short silence.
Finally, she cleared her throat. ‘You should probably get out of those damp clothes...’
Nodding, he made as though to slide her off his lap, but she didn’t move. Instead, her eyes met his.
‘Or I could help you...’ A little shakily, she ran her fingers down his body to the waistband of his shorts. ‘Unless you’ve changed your mind?’
He stared at her dazedly. What mind? Like the rest of him, his mind had melted at the feel of her fingertips on his skin.
A flicker of hope went through him like an electric current and he swallowed, his eyes dropping to her mouth, then lower to the swell of her breasts.
‘Is that—Do you—I mean, are you saying what I think you’re trying to say?’
His usual effortless eloquence had deserted him. He couldn’t remember ever feeling so awkward. But he was shaken by the intensity of his desire, paralysed with fear that he had misunderstood her gesture and words.
‘Yes,’ she said simply.
It was as if a starter gun had gone off in his head.
Framing her face with his hands, he pulled her closer, his mouth finding hers, and he felt a shiver running over him as her fingers stroked across his skin.
‘I’ve been thinking about this for days...’ he groaned against her mouth.
Shock waves of desire were slamming through his body.
‘I’ve been thinking about it too.’
Her breathing was decidedly unsteady now, and she was pushing him back, back onto the sofa.
‘Wait, wait... No—not here. Not on this damn sofa,’ he muttered.
It was his last conscious thought as, reaching down, he scooped her up into his arms and carried her upstairs.
As he dropped her gently onto the bed Imma sat up, pulling him closer, her mouth seeking the outline of his arousal through the still damp fabric of his boxer shorts. He grunted, his body jerking forward as her fingers slid over his hip bones and she began to move her lips over the swell of his erection.
