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He shook his head. “I live in Rome. But this is my London home.”
Jane nodded, though that kind of lifestyle was completely foreign to her. “I thought you meant we were going somewhere. Like a bar.”
He paused with the key in the door. “I thought we would be more comfortable here.”
Jane’s cheeks flushed, and she had the distinct impression that she was completely out of her depth. “Oh, I… um…”
He laughed softly. “You are very beautiful when you are nervous.”
She shook her head. “I just don’t want you to get the wrong idea.”
“And what idea is that?” He asked, pushing the door inwards and stepping backwards, to allow her entry.
Jane stepped inside, despite the hint of misgivings she was experiencing. The corridor was immaculate. Shining floorboards and tall ceilings with intricate, perfectly preserved plaster roses.
“I’m not… I’m really not the kind of girl who, um…”
He began to loosen her buttons, so that he could slide it from her. She shivered again, but this had nothing to do with his removing the coat. Her whole body was reverberating with a foreign, and intense, drag of need.
“I think you are beautiful, cara,” he said, and now, he put both hands on her hips. His thumb padded against her flat stomach; his fingers dug into the flesh at her back. “And I have wanted to kiss you all night. But even someone like me can see that you are young. Perhaps inexperienced. I will not rush you.”
Jane swallowed past the lump in her throat. “You want to kiss me?” Her eyes dropped to his lips, and she sucked in an audible breath as she imagined what that would feel like.
“Is that a problem?”
Jane bit down on her lip and shook her head from side to side. Her long blonde hair was caught in a high ponytail and it flipped behind her.
“Are you saying you want me to kiss you?”
Jane groaned and lowered her face. “I’ve never kissed anyone before. Not, um, romantically.”
Something like lead weighed down on Carlo’s chest. “You have never been kissed by a man?”
“Or a woman,” she joked with a small shrug.
“I see. And if you have never been kissed, it means that you have never…”
She nodded, wishing that the floor would open up and swallow her whole. “So I’m sorry if you thought that I would… that I wanted…”
He shook his head, his expression impossible to comprehend. “How old are you, Jane Lang?” Though he knew that, too. He was buying time, to give himself a minute to understand how she could be untouched at her age.
“Nineteen.”
“And you have never met a boy you liked?”
She shook her head.
“Fascinating.” He padded a thumb across her lower lip. “Would you like me to kiss you?”
Jane’s pupils were enormous, her cheeks flushed with desire, as slowly she nodded.
Carlo lowered his head, so that his lips were just a breath from hers. “I’m very pleased to hear it.”
His lips were warm and gentle on hers. The pressure was slight, the contact minimal. Jane moaned softly as flames of desire began to flicker through her body, tormenting her soul, and her arms lifted of their own accord to wrap around his neck. She parted her lips, and he took advantage of her surrendering to the kiss, to deepen it. His tongue slipped inside her mouth, teasing her, tormenting her, promising her a world of sensation and delight.
His fingers lifted to her hair, and he released her ponytail, so that he could slide his fingers through its lengths. He trapped his hand against the back of her head, and held her against him, and his mouth continued to plunder her warmth. “You are stunning,” he moaned against her, and his free hand lowered to her shirt. He lifted it from the waistband of her jeans and ran his fingers over her skin. Goosebumps spread across her flesh, and she cried out as desire, unexpected and foreign to Jane, threatened to burn her alive.
“Oh, God,” she mumbled, as her hands pushed at his shirt, wanting to touch and feel him.
