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Biting her lip, she managed, slowly and carefully, to remove his hand from her hip, but as she began to edge away across the bed, Zac stirred, murmuring something unintelligible and, an instant later, he opened his eyes and looked at her, propping himself on an elbow.
There was a tingling pause, then he said softly, ‘Buongiorno.’
Dana stared straight ahead of her. ‘I’m sorry. I—I didn’t mean to wake you.’
‘I believe you,’ he said, a note of faint amusement in his voice. ‘And there is no need to apologise. I promise you I welcome the disturbance.’
‘Yes, of course.’ She could hear herself beginning to babble. ‘You—you have a plane to catch, and I have a lot to do as well. I probably need to make an early start too.’
He said quite gently, ‘That, mia cara, is not what I mean, as I think you know.’ And, before she could think of an excuse or a protest, he reached out, drawing her gently but inexorably back towards his warm nakedness.
He paused for a long moment, his dark eyes unreadable as he studied her. Then he lifted a hand, stroking back the hair from her flushed, startled face before running a fingertip down the curve of her cheek and brushing her parted lips.
Light as it was, she seemed to feel his touch reaching down into the marrow of her bones. Discovered it echoing in her pulses and lifting the fine hairs on her skin. Felt it stir, deep within her, in an ache of remembered longing.
And with it came fear—not of him, but herself and all that she so desperately needed to keep secret.
From somewhere, she found a voice. ‘Please—could we—can’t this wait—until after your trip, perhaps? Give me some time to get used to—everything?’
‘You don’t think, maybe, that seven years is long enough?’ The faintly quizzical note in his tone did not deceive her. He was making his intentions clear—telling her that the waiting was over. For good. And for both of them.
He reached out and threw back the covers, making her instantly thankful for the modesty of her nightgown. He, of course, she realised, staring at his chest as if mesmerised, had no such reservations.
And felt herself tense like a coiled spring as she waited for Zac to kiss her—and for all that would inevitably follow.
Closed her eyes, scared of what she might see in his dark face. Triumph, she thought, swallowing. Lust turning to cold determination. Unbearable things.
So she was startled by the gentleness of his mouth as it touched hers, as it moved on the softness of her lips, exploring the delicate contours as if they were the petals of a flower that he did not wish to bruise.
Suddenly the years slipped away and she was seventeen again, her innocent flesh responding in astonished delight to the caresses of her unseen midnight lover.
Now she realised her whole body was reawakening, not just to the shock of sensual pleasure but to the promise of more as one trembling thrill built upon another, winding her in a web of sweetness. Creating a need that threatened to become a necessity as, once again, she lay in the arms of the man she loved...
So much so that her lips were already parting to his insistence, permitting—even welcoming the silken, sensuous provocation of his tongue gliding against her own.
At the same time, his hands were making a slow journey down the entire length of her body, touching her softly, caressingly through the thin material of her nightgown, as if he was committing to memory every curve, every angle, every plane, his fingers returning at last to linger on the swell of her breasts.
He slid the narrow strap of her nightgown from her shoulder, baring one small delicate mound and cupping it in his palm, his thumb teasing the nipple, rousing it to aching pleasure, as his kiss deepened. Beckoned.
But when he pushed down the other strap with the clear intention of uncovering her completely, Dana’s faltering reason intervened.
‘No—please.’ She pushed him away, snatching at the slipping fabric. ‘I—I can’t...’
‘You said you would not resist,’ he reminded her quietly.
‘Yes—but you don’t know what this is like for me. How impossible. I—I’m just not ready.’
Not brave enough to endure. Not strong enough to pretend...
‘But will you be any more prepared to surrender in a week—two weeks—a month?’ Zac shook his head. ‘I doubt it, mia cara.’
He paused. ‘So, let us make a deal.’
‘Another one?’ Her voice shook. ‘Isn’t the first one problem enough?’
‘A different one,’ he said. ‘And perhaps simpler.’
