at her ears—they glowed gently against her skin—and suddenly felt a surge of protectiveness, because this was his baby sister, looking all grown up.
‘What’s going on?’ he said.
Natalia looked up. ‘Hi, Dante.’ She smiled. ‘I’m deciding what to wear to the exhibition of my work.’
He raised an eyebrow. ‘But you never go to the exhibition.’
‘Not in the past. But tomorrow night I do,’ she said softly. ‘And Willow has helped me choose what to wear. Isn’t she clever?’
Willow.
For the first time, Dante allowed his gaze to linger on the slim blonde scrambling to her feet, her cheeks slightly pink as she removed a pin from her mouth and dropped it into a little pewter box. Her dress was creased and her legs were bare and he was hit by a wave of lust so powerful that he could feel all the blood drain from his head, to go straight to where his body was demanding it.
He’d left their suite early because he’d felt as if he would explode if he didn’t touch her, and suddenly he began to wonder just what he was doing to himself. Whether pain was such an integral part of his life that he felt duty-bound to inflict it on himself, even when it wasn’t necessary. Was he trying to punish himself by denying himself the pleasure which he knew could be his, if only he reached out and took it? Because Willow hungered for him, just as much as he did for her. He could read it in every movement of her body. The way her eyes darkened whenever she looked at him.
Her carelessness had led to that crazy announcement about them being engaged, but hadn’t he committed far graver sins than that? Hadn’t he once told the biggest lie in the world to his twin brother—a lie by omission. He had stood silent when Dario had accused him of sleeping with his wife, and hadn’t their relationship been in tatters ever since?
Pushing away the regret which he’d buried so deep, he thought instead about what his grandfather had said, soon after he’d given him the tiara. That Willow was caring and thoughtful, and that he liked her. And Giovanni wouldn’t say something like that unless he meant it. His sister seemed to like her too—and Talia could be notoriously prickly with new people, after all the bad stuff which had happened in her life.
He realised that Natalia was waiting for an answer to a question he’d forgotten. Something about Willow, he thought—which was kind of appropriate because it was difficult to concentrate on anything other than a pair of grey eyes and a soft pair of lips he badly needed to kiss.
‘Yes, she is,’ he said slowly. ‘Very clever.’
A funny kind of silence descended as Willow’s cheeks grew pink.
‘Well, I think that’s everything,’ she said, brushing her hand down over the creases in her dress. ‘You look gorgeous, Natalia.’
‘Gorgeous,’ Dante agreed steadily. ‘And now I’d like to talk to you, Willow. That is, if Natalia has finished with you.’
‘Sure.’ Natalia gave a quick smile. ‘We’re all done here.’
In silence Dante followed Willow from Natalia’s room, and once he had closed the door, she turned to him, her eyes filled with question.
‘What is it?’ she asked. ‘Has something happened?’
But he shook his head. He didn’t want whispered explanations in the corridors of this great house, with Natalia suddenly emerging from the bedroom or Alma or another member of staff stumbling upon them. He badly wanted to kiss her, and once he’d started, he wasn’t sure that he’d be able to stop.
‘I need to talk to you,’ he said. ‘In private.’
The journey to their cottage seemed to take for ever, and Willow’s heart was pounding as she followed Dante through the grounds because she was aware that something about him was different. When he’d walked into the room and seen her and Natalia giggling together, there had been something in his eyes which had made her want to melt. He’d looked at her in a way which had made goose bumps whisper all over her skin and her heart start thumping with an urgent kind of hope. She’d seen a new tension in his body and hoped she hadn’t imagined the hunger she’d seen in his blue eyes, but even if it was true, she wasn’t sure she trusted it. Was he going to take her in his arms and run his hands over her body like he’d done before? Was he going to kiss her passionately—to the point where she was gasping with hunger and frustration—only to push her away again and add to that frustration?
In tense silence they walked down an avenue of tall trees, whose leaves were brushed with the first hints of gold, and when finally they reached the cottage, she turned to face him as he closed the door.
‘What is it?’ she questioned again. ‘Why are you acting like this?’
‘I’m not acting,’ he said unsteadily. ‘Up until now, maybe—but not any more. I’ve wanted you for so long and I’ve reached a point where I can’t go on like this any longer because it’s driving me insane. I’ve tried to resist you, but it seems I can’t resist any more. And now I’m through with trying. I want you, Willow. I want you so badly I can hardly breathe.’
Her heart was performing somersaults as she looked at him, scarcely able to believe what she was hearing. ‘You make it sound as if you’re doing something you don’t want to do.’
‘Oh, I want to do it, all right,’ he said simply. ‘I can’t remember ever wanting a woman as much as I do right now. Maybe because you’ve been off-limits for so long that it’s stirred my appetite until I can think of little else but you. I don’t know. All I know is that I don’t want to hurt you.’
‘Dante...’ she said.
‘No. Hear me out, because it’s important that you do.’ His gaze was very intense—his eyes like blue flames which burned right through her. ‘I’m afraid your innocence will make you read too much into this and so I’m flagging it up before that happens. To make sure it doesn’t happen. Because the act of sex can be deceptive, Willow. The words spoken during intimacy can often mimic the words of love and it’s important you recognise that.’
She dug her teeth into her bottom lip. ‘And you’re afraid that if I have sex with you, I’ll fall hopelessly in love with you?’
His face became shuttered. ‘Will you?’
Willow wondered if it was arrogance which had made him ask that—or simply a remarkable honesty. She wondered if she should listen to the voice inside her head which was telling her to heed his warning. That maybe she was setting herself up for a hurt bigger than any she’d ever known.
But it wasn’t as easy as that. She wanted Dante in a way she’d never wanted anyone—a way she suspected she never would again. Even if she met someone else like him—which was doubtful—her fate was always going to be different from other women her age.
Because a normal life and marriage had never been on the cards for her and it never could.
But none of that was relevant now.
She wasn’t asking the impossible. She wasn’t demanding that he love her—all she needed to do was to keep her own emotions in check. She had to. Because anything else would frighten him away—instinct told her that. She gave a little shrug.
‘I’ll try my very hardest not to fall in love with you,’ she said lightly.
‘Good. Because there isn’t going to be some fairy-tale ending to this. This fake engagement of ours isn’t suddenly going to become real.’
‘I don’t care.’
And suddenly neither did he. He didn’t care about anything except touching her like he’d wanted to do for so long.
Dante peeled the dress from her body and then couldn’t stop staring—as if it was the first time he’d ever undressed a woman. She was all sweetness and delicacy. All blond hair and floral scent and pure white lingerie. He wrapped his arms around her.