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She knew the answer. He’d done nothing wrong. Dante thought no one knew, but people talked, and as a child she’d heard how he’d saved his mother from his father’s violence, which had been the noblest, bravest thing a son could do. Dante had surpassed his father in every way, and that was his only fault. He’d had rebuilt his life as well as the family ranch where so many people came to explore new possibilities. She ached for him and cried for him, and for everything they’d lost.
He tasted salt on her lips and knew without doubt that for all her complex, stubborn ways there was no other woman on earth like Karina. She infuriated him, she frustrated him beyond measure but, then, she always had. There was only one Karina, only one woman who knew what made him tick. She knew his strengths and the weakness he never showed the world. She knew everything about him. He didn’t have to explain his past.
There had been times when a sympathetic glance, or a brush of the hand, had been all that had been needed for two young people to acknowledge what had been going on at home, and it had helped them to know they hadn’t been alone, and now it was enough to be together. Being with Karina was so natural it was like coming home, and even better when the pace of his kisses slowed and gentled and she softened in his arms.
There had been times when she had doubted they could ever recapture the closeness they had known, but now... She gasped with pleasure as Dante feathered kisses down her neck, and moaned softly when he rasped his stubble against her skin. The sensation transferred to every part of her, making her yearn, making her moist, and making her thrill with excitement, knowing she could feel normal again. With Dante it seemed that anything was possible.
‘We’ve got all the time in the world,’ he murmured as she tightened her hold on him. ‘There’s no rush, Karina.’
But she was in a rush to prove there was nothing wrong with her, and pressing against him she shivered with desire as his mouth brushed her ear, her cheek, her lips...
‘Are you cold?’ he asked, when she shivered.
She laughed softly. ‘Anything but.’
He smiled into her eyes. ‘And you trust me?’
He kept on kissing her as he led her back into the house, and in between those kisses he whispered outrageous suggestions that made her laugh, that made her lust, that made her believe they could pick up where they’d left off. He told her she made him happy. He made her smile. The closeness she had once taken for granted, and which had proved so elusive as they’d grown up, seemed to have returned.
They were still laughing when they reached the foot of the staircase—faces close, arms entwined, gazes locked on each other. She had never felt closer to another human in her life than she felt to Dante. And now he began to remind her of all the tricks she had used to play on him—innocent times before life and all its difficulties had caught up with them. The warmth they’d known had returned full force, she thought as he took her up the stairs. She was so lost in laughter and good memories she barely noticed crossing the threshold into his room.
‘Don’t pull back now,’ he joked, not realising she was serious.
Her gaze darted about, taking in her masculine surroundings. An enormous bed filled her vision. She was transfixed by it as Dante took hold of her hand.
‘Is there a problem?’ he murmured, smiling down into her eyes.
‘No. Of course not,’ she said tensely. She flashed a smile meant to reassure him, and then he kissed her again and she wondered what she had been worried about.
‘I’m going to make love to you—really make love to you,’ he promised, as he steered her across the room. ‘I want to make up for lost time.’
Dante was happy—confident—confident in her and her response, but she was already tense at the thought that he wouldn’t want her when he knew.
‘I’m sorry—’
Pulling back his head, he stared down at her in surprise. ‘What do you have to be sorry about?’
So much she didn’t know where to begin.
Lifting her into his arms, he carried her to the bed and she stared into the face she had loved since she was a child. This was right, this was good, she told herself firmly. She was a healthy female, and every part of her body was responding to Dante as it should. Nothing could go wrong this time.
When he lowered her to the floor at the side of the bed she reached out to free his top from the waistband of his jeans. Hooking his thumb into the back of the neck, he brought the top over his head, displaying the beautiful torso the cameras loved almost as much as she did. She would never get used to the sight of Dante naked. He was breathtaking. His stare on her face was dark and certain. He didn’t need to tell her that he wanted her when she could see it in his eyes, and knew he would see the same in her own.
