Page 91 of The Amalfi Bride


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Then she was in his arms. He had no idea how she got there, only that she belonged.

“I need to pack. But I—I need you more.” She traced the shape of his face with loving fingertips. “How am I ever—”

When her hand trailed across his lips, he kissed them one by one.

She stared up at him for a long moment. Then she shut her eyes as if memorizing his features. He shut his eyes, too, and saw her lovely face behind his lids, every detail was perfect.

“I’m glad you took so many pictures,” he said.

“Me, too.” She spoke through more tears.

Even before she sprang forward a little and pressed her soft curves more tightly against his body, clinging to him, his arms clenched around her waist.

He remembered wishing he could bring Simonetta back to life. Wishing for a second chance. Wishing that he could hold her just one more time.

How much harder would it be to let Cara go when he knew she was still alive in this world?

He pushed his hands under the straps of her sundress so violently a strap tore. He wanted to hold her, to bury himself in her warm flesh, to possess her so completely she could never bear to leave him.

“Not here,” she pleaded in a soft, urgent voice.

His mouth found hers anyway.

“Someone might see,” she insisted.

“Must you always take charge?” He kissed her hard.

She laughed a little. “You keep asking me that.”

“And?” His own voice was rough.

“Only sometimes.” She snuggled closer.

He buried his mouth against her breast and sucked at her nipple, tasting warm, salty-sweet woman, as well as wet, cotton sundress.

“Stop…before we can’t,” she pleaded. “Security might find us.”

Or worse, the paparazzi.

Gulping in a savage breath, he set her aside. He raked his hair with his hands. Then he adjusted his collar and tucked his shirt back inside his jeans. He stepped back a few inches.

She straightened and stood a little stiffly, as if wary of him, too. When she turned and marched toward the hotel, her head held high, he tagged along behind her, his attention on the sexy sway of her cute butt.

When she went to the desk for her key, he waited by the elevator. She was coy and sedate and studiously proper in the lobby. When the elevator doors closed, whisking them upstairs, she stood as far from him as the small golden box with glass sides would allow. But when the doors opened on her floor, she gave a wild cry and chased him down the hall.

The moment they were inside her room, she shot the bolt and ran into his arms. Catching her, he cupped her chin and lifted her mouth to his.

In no mood for tenderness, she tore at his fly and then at the buttons of his shirt.

When a cool draft of air hit his naked chest, he laughed. Then he unzipped her sundress and watched it spill down her tiny waist and flaring hips to the glossy tiles. She kicked her sandals across the room. Then she sprang into his arms again, teasing him with her mouth and tongue, kissing his lips open, each hungry kiss promising and demanding more than her last.

Lifting her high, he let her slide down his body. She wrapped her legs around his waist, and he squeezed her tightly, holding her there for an infinite moment before carrying her to bed. It felt like long hours ago since he’d made love to her in the sea cave and had brought her to climax with his tongue.

She was slim and beautiful. Why did it keep amazing him that she felt perfect underneath him?

Her wide, dark eyes met his. When he smiled, her lips parted and those gorgeous eyes shone. She was like the moon and the sun, giving off light but reflecting his, too.

With his lips he touched her smooth forehead, her silken hair, her eyebrows, even her eyelashes. He wanted her babies, and the thought that he’d been born to a complicated life and couldn’t have her or those babies caused a visceral pain near his heart.

She was leaving in little more than twenty-four hours. Suddenly, the urge to possess her now, this minute, forever, overpowered him.

“Cara. Oh, Cara.” Forgetting himself, the love words he used as his hands roamed her body were Italian. He cupped her breasts, caressed her waist and thighs. Then he slid a finger inside and stroked her there, too. When he had her quivering and her breath almost stopped, his pulse raced out of control.

His mouth found her lips again, teasing her tongue with the tip of his, playing and sucking until her nails dug deep into his shoulders. Until she moaned.

“I want you so much,” she murmured as she crawled under him.

Her skin felt feverishly hot as her arms locked around his neck. He was on his knees, and her sleek body was open and ready beneath him. When his heavy sex touched her entrance, she gasped and then licked her lips. Without more foreplay, he plunged inside her. Buried to the hilt, he went still, his blood pounding in his temple. He wanted this moment to last forever.

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