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So what type of girl was she?
‘Where are you now, Eva?’
‘Right by your side.’ But she knew what he meant, and Roman was a big man who no doubt had an appetite to match. Her stomach tumbled at the thought of what she’d done. He’d taken her at face value—the kiss and her response to it. Eva Skavanga was notoriously passionate, so why wouldn’t she be passionate in every area of her life? Perhaps it would be better to tell him now—
‘Eva—’
Her heart lurched as Roman turned to face her. She took a step back and found her spine pressed up hard against the smooth rock face with Roman’s fists planted either side of her, boxing her in. There was no escape. His stare was keen and all the more compelling lit by moonlight.
‘How about you tell me the truth before we get any further into this?’
‘How did you—?’
‘How did I know? Are you serious? Like I’ve said before, Eva, I can read you. It isn’t that hard. And now I want to know the truth from you—all of it.’
‘The truth?’ Was this really going to be the moment when she explained that she wasn’t the girl everyone thought she was?
Relaxing his arms, Roman stepped back with a shrug. ‘Coming here to the island to see me has everything to do with Skavanga, and nothing to do with our meeting at the wedding?’
‘Nothing at all,’ she said, turning away. ‘Can I go now?’ She sidestepped him with a smile.
‘Be my guest...’
They were only yards from the gates of Roman’s palazzo and the gulf between them had never seemed wider. She’d done it again. She’d messed everything up. She didn’t know what she wanted, or what she didn’t want.
Roman stood back at the gate to let her in. He was so sure of himself, so relaxed. He made no attempt to move aside, which forced her to brush against him. His machismo scorched her. Every nerve in her body fired at once. Her physical self cried out for pleasure, while the old Eva shrank back, already tasting failure.
‘Come on...’ Putting his arm around her shoulder, Roman led her forward. He opened the door and took her inside, across the hall and up the stairs, and along the elegant landing. He backed her into his room, his dark stare holding hers. He leaned past her to shut the door.
Her heart went crazy. ‘I can’t do this.’
‘Can’t do what, Eva?’
‘Whatever it is you expect of me, I can’t do it.’
‘You’re sure of that?’
‘I’m certain.’
‘How do you know what I want you to do?’ The shadow of a smile hovered around his lips. ‘I promise not to tell anyone that Eva Skavanga lost her nerve, if you promise not to tell anyone I had to trick you into kissing me.’
‘You mean...’
‘Do I want to kiss you? What do you think, Eva?’
Dipping his head, Roman kissed her slowly and thoroughly as he backed her towards the bed, and, in spite of all her promises to get herself out of this, her grip on him tightened with every step.
CHAPTER NINE
‘IS THIS WHAT you want?’ Roman whispered, transferring his kisses to her neck. ‘And this?’ He teased her ear lobe as she trembled uncontrollably in his arms.
She couldn’t speak. Her legs were shaking beneath her. Roman was holding her up while she floated in sensation, and when his big hand found her breast and his skilful fingers got to work, the fact that he could be so delicate, so intuitive, and that he could instil such confidence in her, brought the last of her barriers crashing down.
A sigh shivered out of her as his hand found a warm home between her legs. The shock of Roman touching her intimately was so extreme her mind blanked and she acted instinctively, pressing against his hand in the hunt for more sensation.
Kicking off her sandals, she stumbled in her haste, but Roman was there to steady her, and when her hands were shaking he helped her with her belt and top too.
Everything that had seemed so wrong, so fearful, so utterly beyond her reach, suddenly seemed the most natural thing in the world. She stood watching as Roman undid his belt and left it hanging as he tugged his shirt over his head.
She was in awe of his body. Muscled and hard and tanned, he was magnificent. She wondered then about the simple gold chain he wore around his neck. Roman was such an understated man. Even his wristwatch was plain steel without any of the dials and gizmos she’d noticed other men appeared to need. And the chain was delicate, while Roman Quisvada was most definitely not.
