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CHAPTER ELEVEN
CORSODAVIGNOLAWASANinternational superstar.
At least, that was what the New York media were saying—a media desperate for a good news story after a year when the international headlines had been increasingly grim. It seemed that the slick and very cosmopolitan American city couldn’t get enough of the striking Mediterranean king and his blonde assistant, who knew so much about his tragic ancestor and her exquisite collection of jewels.
This time, the TV interview which preceded the opening of the collection was shown on one of the country’s biggest networks, to a much wider audience than in France. Rosie had to get up at the crack of dawn to appear on a breakfast show featuring an impossibly glamorous presenter with the most perfectly arranged hair she’d ever seen, who seemed much more interested in finding out what the King wasreally like, rather than the provenance of the ancient burial jewels.
‘Oh, you know,’ Rosie answered, her expression polite but non-committal. ‘Like most kings, I suppose.’
‘I wouldn’t know, as I’ve never met one. So if he’s planning on throwing a big party while he’s here...’ The presenter’s smile was as bright as her hair as her voice tailed off suggestively.
But all publicity was good publicity. At least, that was what they said. As the red light flashed, indicating they were live on air, Rosie sucked in a huge breath and prepared to speak. And this time there were no nerves. All she had to do was to think about the way she seemed to thrill Corso whenever they were alone together. Who wouldn’t have acquired a new-found confidence when a man like that kept breathing into her ear how much he wanted her and then showing her exactly how much?
Like all the other embassies, the Monterossian delegation was in Washington and, since Corso had no desire to stay in a hotel, he’d borrowed a Manhattan penthouse from a friend. It was situated a short distance from Madison Square Park and the quirky museum where the jewels were being showcased. This time the museum’s curator was called Donna Green and Rosie found her and her team helpful, welcoming and easy to work with. The downtown location of the apartment meant it was easy for Corso to access the corporate heads he was meeting throughout the day. But first, he insisted that Rosie approve their temporary accommodation, and she couldn’t deny being flattered that her opinion mattered to him.
A glass elevator sped them up thirty levels to the very top of an apartment which was like nothing she’d ever seen. Well, of course she hadn’t. Even Corso seemed momentarily impressed, and luxury was stamped into his DNA. Spread over five floors and looking as if it were photo-ready for an interiors magazine shoot, the apartment had eleven bedrooms andfourteen bathroomsand Rosie found herself worrying aloud that, if she wasn’t careful, she might get lost.
‘But you do like it?’ questioned Corso, turning back from a wall of windows, which showcased the dazzling skyline of the city and the river which gleamed in the afternoon sunshine.
She walked around in a daze, noting the giant glass dining table and carefully placed bowls of pink flowers, which reminded her of the Judas trees she’d seen in Paris. ‘Of course I do,’ she said. ‘Though it’s all so perfect it feels a bit like being on a stage set.’
His eyes narrowed thoughtfully. ‘Is that how you thought about my palace?’
She thought how few people could say ‘my palace’ in that proprietorial tone and get away with it. ‘Not really. As a child, everything you know is defined by your own experience and it was all I knew. And our house wasn’t actuallyinthe palace, was it? But, yeah, I guess that since I grew up seeing servants everywhere and watching my parents go off to the occasional formal banquet—I was never particularly daunted by all the splendour.’
‘Did you miss it?’ he questioned suddenly. ‘After you left?’
When he came out with something like that it took Rosie off guard, because it happened so rarely. Corso’s preference was always to stay away from the personal and she liked that, because personal questions ran the risk of blurring reality and making her think he cared. Which he didn’t. He wasn’t laying down the foundations of a long-term relationship by discovering what made her tick. She was his stopgap lover, that was all.And if he hadn’t been deprived of sex for so long, she wouldn’t have got a look-in.
Sometimes she was afraid that his sizzling gaze would burn right through her, revealing more of herself than she wanted him to see. Scared he might sense that her feelings for him were changing—growing—even if she was doing everything in her power to hold them in check. But surely she should answer him honestly—especially when he had been so honest with her.
‘I missed the country,’ she said suddenly. ‘The beaches and the mountains. And the people, of course. Because nobody makes you feel more welcome than a Monterossian.’
‘That’s quite some praise, Rosie,’ he said softly. ‘And on behalf of my people, I thank you.’
The approbation in his voice made her uncomfortable and she couldn’t work out why. Because it made her long for more—and then more still? Or because praise made people feel secure and her position with him was anything but secure? ‘You’re welcome,’ she said, determined to maintain a bright façade.
‘Let me show you where we’ll be sleeping.’ His golden eyes glinted. ‘I’m reliably informed that the master bedroom has a monster-sized bed.’
But Rosie wasn’t interested in the size of the bed, or yet another breathtaking view over the Hudson River. The only thing which commanded her attention was the man who had dropped to his knees in front of her and begun to remove one of the skyscraper heels she was wearing—at his request.
First one, then the other shoe was thrust away across the silken rug, before he lifted her foot to his mouth and whispered his lips over each bare toe. She gasped aloud as he licked them, slowly. She’d never dreamed that having your toes sucked could be so...erotic. As if hearing her unspoken plea, he pulled her down onto the floor and the journey of his kiss became more focussed. He took his time as his mouth moved slowly up the length of one leg before finding her thighs and Rosie thought she was about to lose her mind. And then he was sliding down her panties and pushing them away, before placing his mouth where she most needed him and beginning to lick his tongue over her.
He teased her until she moaned. Screamed. Squirmed. Holding her hips as if to anchor her, he pressed his mouth harder against her as she began pulsing helplessly, increasing the intensity of her pleasure until at last she lay there, breathless and shaking, her heart thundering with disbelief at the way he could make her feel like this. Every. Single. Time. And each time he did it, she felt a little bit more exposed. As if he were peeling away all the different layers behind which she hid, leaving her raw and susceptible. Could he tell that her emotions were being compromised? Was it a sign of weakness or dependence that made her heart want to burst with joy whenever she looked at him? And both those things were dangerous. So concentrate on the physical, she told herself fiercely—and stop longing for things which are never going to happen.
She opened her eyes to find him watching her and, lazily, drifted her fingers to the hard ridge at his groin.
‘Teach me what you like best,’ she said, tugging at the belt of his trousers, but he shook his head as she freed him.
‘You don’t need any teaching, Rosie. You’re a—’ she saw him swallow as her fingers curled around his erection ‘—natural. You seem to know what I want better than I do myself.’
When she didn’t respond, he frowned. ‘That was a compliment,’ he observed. ‘And since I don’t dish them out very often, I find your lack of appreciation a little...disappointing.’
She focussed on his egotism rather than on words which threatened to destabilise her because they were making her feel special and different. And she wasn’t. Shewasn’t. ‘Would you like me to gush my thanks?’ she whispered. ‘Or perhaps to demonstrate my gratitude in...other ways.’ She bent her head, glad for the concealment of the thick fall of her hair as she took him into her mouth.
She enjoyed his helpless moan as she sucked him—then licked him like a lollipop, trickling the tip of her tongue up and down his hard shaft. She teased him until he was demanding release and, after he had spilled his seed into her mouth, he dug his fingers into her hair and pulled her up to lie on top of him.
‘That was...good,’ he said unevenly and then, after a moment of silence while he recovered his breath, his next words took her completely by surprise. ‘Since there’s so much space to choose from, I thought we could have the top two floors of this place to ourselves while we’re here.’
