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‘If it’s any help, I don’t know how to do the morning-after bit either,’ he said quietly.
Swallowing, she looked up into his dark eyes. Her whole life she had been a complicated, contained girl, equal parts fear and ambition, always wanting to push back, but too scared to refuse, to demand, to ask.
But she wasn’t scared any more.
‘What do you usually do?’ she asked.
‘That’s just it.’ Leaning over, he stroked her cheek. ‘I don’t do anything. Spending the night with someone isn’t my thing.’ His mouth twisted. ‘Wasn’t my thing.’
She stared at him uncertainly, trying to ignore the way her stomach was turning over and over in response to the implication of his words.
‘But it is now?’ she whispered.
A curl of hair had fallen over her breast and, reaching out, he wrapped it around his fingers, drawing her closer so that her mouth was under his.
‘Yes, it most definitely is.’
Was that true? Or was he simply saying what she wanted to hear?
There was a moment of silence.
‘You don’t believe me?’ His eyes searched her face.
‘I want to...’ She hesitated. There was a coldness in her chest, the chill of doubt. ‘It’s just that before this—you and me—it wasn’t real. You had an agenda—’
Vicè hadn’t wanted her for herself then. He’d needed to seduce her. Only she’d had no idea. So how could she trust her instincts, her senses, now?
‘And you think I had one last night?’ He grinned. ‘What can I say? I had to get off that sofa somehow.’ He glanced down, his smile fading. ‘I’m joking, cara. That wasn’t why—’ His face stilled. ‘Is this about what I said before? About only wanting you to get at your father?’
He stopped, his jaw tightening.
‘Look, maybe right at the beginning, at the wedding, it was about getting back at him and getting the business back. But when you came out of the bathroom—’ He grimaced. ‘I promise you I wanted you so badly I wasn’t thinking about your father or my father’s olive oil company. Actually, I wasn’t thinking, full stop.’
Imma bit her lip. She wanted to believe him, but it was hard. Her father and Claudia both needed her. For support, for protection. She had never felt desirable before—just necessary.
His hand covered hers, and the warmth of his fingers thawed the chill in her chest.
He shook his head. ‘Lo so, cara. I know I haven’t given you any reason to trust me, but I meant what I said last night. I can’t get you out of my head—you’re all I’ve been thinking about.’ His mouth twisted. ‘Watching you walk downstairs in that dress, those heels... I actually thought I was going to lose control. I was desperate to get to the hotel, so I didn’t make a fool of myself.’ He gave her the ghost of a smile. ‘Although being a fool is what I do best.’
It was the kind of teasing remark that was typical of him, and yet she couldn’t help feeling there was something beneath the banter.
She stared into his eyes. ‘You’re not a fool.’
‘I’m a fool for you,’ he said lightly.
She smiled at that and, lifting his hand, he stroked her hair away from her face. ‘You know, I think I’m getting pretty good at this morning-after bit,’ he murmured.
‘Is that right?’ Her lips curved upward, caught in the honeyed trap of his gleaming dark eyes and teasing smile.
‘Yeah...’
Their eyes met, and then his mouth dropped, and then he kissed her. She felt something stir inside—a flickering heat that made her body ripple to life and tighten in response.
Tipping his head back, he stared down at her, and then he ran a finger slowly along the line of her collarbone. ‘Although I might just need a little bit more practice...’
His voice was warm with desire, and she felt an answering warmth start to spread over her skin as he took her face between his hands and bent his head to kiss her again.
She wanted him, and she was willing to act on that want. She was making a choice and she was choosing Vicè.
