don’t know whether to celebrate for making you come while we’re both fully dressed or spank you for your appalling timing.’
Slowly, the realisation of what she’d just done pierced her euphoria.
Beneath her cheek, his heart raced. She could feel his erection still raging, strong and vital.
She’d orgasmed on top of Narciso Valentino and he hadn’t even needed to undress her.
‘Oh, God.’
Narciso held himself very still. He had to, or risk tearing her clothes off and taking her with the force of a rutting bull.
‘God isn’t going to help you now, naughty Ruby. You have to deal with me.’
‘I... That shouldn’t have happened.’
He nodded grimly. ‘I agree.’
Wide blue eyes locked on his. ‘You do?’
He swallowed hard. ‘It should’ve happened when I was inside you. Now I feel woefully deprived.’ Unable to stop himself, he moved his hands up and down her back. He tensed as her breathing changed. Desire thickened the air once more. Sensing her about to bolt, he flipped her over and trapped her underneath him. ‘But I have you now.’
She tried to wriggle away but all she did was exacerbate the flashflood of desire drowning them both.
‘No, I can’t... We can’t do this.’
He stiffened. ‘Why not?’
‘It won’t end well. Simon—’
His eyes narrowed into warning slits. ‘Was a cheating lowlife who didn’t deserve you. You and I together...we’re different. We deserve each other.’
Narciso speared his fingers into her soft hair. But instead of kissing her, he grazed his lips along her jaw and down her throat to the pulse racing crazily there. He drew down her sleeves, exposing her breasts to his mouth. His mind screamed at him to stop before it was too late, but he was already sliding his tongue over one nipple.
Dio! He’d never known a woman to smash so effortlessly through his defences.
Her nails raked his nape and he groaned in approval. By the time he turned his attention to her other nipple, her whimpers were adding fire to his raging arousal.
She tugged on his shirt and he gave in to her demand. With a ragged laugh, he helped her reef it over his head and divested her of her dress.
Stark hunger consumed him as he took a moment to feast his eyes on her exposed body. ‘You’re so beautiful.’ He drifted a hand down her chest and over her stomach to the top of her panties.
That disconcerting throb of possessiveness rocked through him again. He didn’t want to know who else she’d been with but, in that moment, Narciso was glad her ex-business partner had failed to make her his. He settled himself over her, taking her mouth in a scorching kiss that obliterated words and feelings he didn’t want to examine too closely.
His hand slid over her panties, hungrily seeking the heart of her. Her breath caught as his fingers breached her dampness and flicked over her sensitive flesh.
She jerked and squeezed her eyes tightly shut.
‘Open your eyes, amante,’ he commanded. He wanted...no, needed to see her, to assure himself that she was sliding into insanity just as quickly as he was. When she refused to comply, he applied more pressure. ‘Do it or I’ll stop.’
Eyes full of arousal slowly opened. His breath fractured at the electrifying connection. His whole body tightened to breaking point and he mentally shook his head.
What the hell was happening here?
Her delicate shudder slowed his flailing thoughts. Absorbing her reaction, he inserted one finger inside her, drinking in her hitched cry as she shuddered again.
‘Dio, you’re so tight.’ He waited until she’d adjusted, then pressed in another finger.
Narciso was unprepared for her wince.
Instantly alert, he asked, ‘What’s wrong?’
She shook her head but he could see the trepidation in her eyes.
Those now familiar alarm bells shrieked. ‘Answer me, Ruby.’
Nervously, she licked her lips. ‘I’m...a virgin.’
Shock doused him in ice. For several seconds he couldn’t move. Then the realisation of how close he’d come to taking her, to staking a claim on what he had no right to, hit him like a ton of bricks.
He surged back from her, reefing a hand through his hair as he inhaled sharply.
‘You’re a virgin,’ he repeated numbly.
Raising her chin, she stared back at him. ‘Yes.’
Several puzzle pieces finally slotted into place—the touches of innocence he’d spotted, her bolshiness even as she seemed out of her depth.
Her trepidation.
What had he said a moment ago—they deserved each other? Not any more.
Regret bit deep as he forced himself off the bed. ‘Then, cara mia, this is over.’
* * *
Ruby came out of the bathroom of her cabin and slowed to a stop. Glancing around her room, she tried again to grapple with the sheer opulence around her. The three-decked yacht, complete with helicopter landing pad, had made her jaw drop the first time she’d seen it two days ago.
But the inside of Narciso’s yacht was even more luxurious.
Black with a silver trim on the outside, it was an exact reverse on the inside. Silver and platinum vied with Carrara marble mined from the exclusive quarries north of Tuscany.
Her suite, complete with queen-size bed, sunken Jacuzzi bath and expensive toiletries, was the last word in luxury.
But all the opulence couldn’t stem the curious emptiness inside her.
Since her arrival in Belize, she’d barely seen Narciso. The only times she saw him was when she served the list of meals he’d approved the day they’d boarded The Warlock.
At first the studied consideration with which he’d treated her after she’d blurted her confession had surprised her. Who knew he was the sort of playboy who treated virgins as if they were sacred treasures?
But then she’d seen the look in his eyes. The regret. The banked pain. Her surprise had morphed into confusion.
She was still confused now as she tugged off her towel and headed for the drawer that held her meagre clothes. Only to stop dead at the sight of the monogrammed leather suitcase standing at the bottom of the bed.
She opened it. Silk sarongs, bikinis, sundresses, designer shoes and slippers fell out of the case as she dug through it, her stomach hollowing out with incredulity.
Dressing in the jeans and top she’d travelled to Macau in and taken to wearing since her arrival simply because the three evening gowns were totally out of the question, she went in search of the elusive Sicilian who seemed hell-bent on keeping her permanently off balance.
She found him on the middle deck, after getting lost twice. He wore white linen shorts and a dark blue polo shirt. The early evening sun slanted over jet-black hair, highlighting its vibrancy and making her recall how it had felt to run her hands through the strands.
The sight of his bare legs made her swallow before she reminded herself she wasn’t going to be affected by his stunning physique any longer. He’d pointedly avoided her for two whole days. She was damned if she’d let him catch her drinking him in as if he were her last hope for sustenance.
She was here to do a job. Whatever closeness they’d shared on his plane was gone, a temporary aberration never to be repeated. Her focus now needed to be on what