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The deep, husky voice coming out of nowhere startled me, and water splashed around my body as I turned, dreading but already knowing who it was I would find—-
And of course it was Marcus Ravelli.
I caught a fleeting glimpse of a bronze chest and rock-hard abs—-
Oh!
And then our houseguest disappeared from sight, Marcus diving into the pool in one, swift, fluid motion.
He’s going to try and take me by surprise, I thought right away. I took a step back, already thinking of leaving the pool, but it was too late.
Hands captured my waist underwater, and I struggled to keep myself still, struggled to ignore the most shameful urge to writhe in his hold.
A moment later, Marcus emerged from the water right in front of me, and a startled cry still spilled past my lips even though I had already expected him to show up.
Water dripped from his hair as he grinned at me, and my breath caught.
Marcus.
Marcus Ravelli.
My Marcus.
In the last three days, I had tried to convince myself that how he made me feel was just a figment of my imagination.
“Ciao, bambina.”
Heat wrapped around my body at the mere sound of his voice, the irrational but intense attraction I felt for him coming to life in an instant.
Obviously, I had imagined wrong.
Everything about him was just too sensual. His lovely words, his sexy accent, and even that smirk of his – all of it conspiring to overwhelm me—-
I forced myself to meet his gaze, and his dark eyes were in it, too, with the way his gaze caressed mine.
“Could you please release me?”
“Not a chance.” His tone was soft and devilish, and the sound had my insides knotting up.
“I mean what I said.”
“So did I.” His hands on my waist tightened as his spoke.
Crap.
It was stupid, really stupid, but his touch just felt so ridiculously hot I was tempted to check my skin for burn marks.
When I felt Marcus’ gaze trail down my body, I couldn’t help crossing my arms over my chest even though I was completely covered from the neck down.
“May I ask a question,bambina?”
The laughter in his voice made it easy for me to guess what he wanted to ask, and so I said with as much dignity as I could muster, “I’d rather you don’t.”
But he only chuckled and went on asking, “Has no one ever told you that scuba suits were meant to be worn when you’re...” He paused then finished casually, “...actually going for a dive?”
“I know that.” But I shouldn’t have bothered answering. Marcus was already too busy laughing to even hear me.
“It’s just my thing,” I said defensively. And I wasn’t lying. Not wanting Marcus Ravelli to see mynot-thinbody in a bikini could be a thing. Right?
