Sarah Morgan

Capelli's Captive Virgin


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please.’ Determined to ignore everything that was happening to her, Lindsay made an impatient sound. ‘Next you’ll be telling me that divorce lawyers do the human race a favour.’

      ‘Not the whole human race. Just a select few who I believe to be worthy of my particular skill set.’

      ‘You make money out of people’s misery.’

      ‘So do you,’ he returned instantly, the glint in his eyes suddenly hard. ‘The difference between us is that I’ve built a successful business based on reality, whereas yours is based on fantasy. You peddle dreams. Fairy tales. Happy ever afters.’

      ‘That isn’t true—’

      ‘Expecting a relationship to last in today’s society is the stuff of fantasy.’

      ‘That isn’t true either—’

      ‘Then why is my phone always ringing? Why am I busier than I’ve ever been?’ Cool and calculating, he watched her. ‘Because people are finally accepting that expecting to be hooked to someone for life is totally unrealistic. Better to do what my brother and your sister are currently doing—have wild exciting sex until it is no longer exciting. Then move on.’

      Listening to him rip holes in everything she believed in, Lindsay felt her limbs tremble. ‘I completely disagree with you.’

      His eyes lingered on her mouth. ‘Well, of course you do. If you didn’t, you’d be out of a job. I watched you on television last week, recommending ways in which a certain Hollywood actress could save her marriage. Lindsay Lockheart, relationship expert. You look cute on the screen, by the way.’ His voice was dangerously soft. ‘Cute and convincing, which is all the more surprising when you bear in mind that Lindsay Lockheart, relationship expert, has never actually had a relationship herself.’

      Ignoring the mockery in his eyes, Lindsay defended herself. ‘It’s true that I’ve never been married, if that’s what you mean.’ Her heart pumped hard because he was pressing in close to a subject she avoided.

      He studied her in silence, his expression thoughtful. ‘It wasn’t what I meant. Do your clients know that you’re a fraud, Lindsay?’ His tone pleasant, he slipped his arms into his jacket and her face flamed.

      ‘I’ve had relationships, Alessio.’

      ‘I’m not talking about a dinner date or a dignified trip to the opera.’ With unconscious grace, he strolled purposefully towards her, suddenly looking every inch the sophisticated, successful lawyer. Gone was the street-fighter image of moments earlier. The transformation from rough and tough to slick and sophisticated was complete. Dressed in a dark grey suit that moulded his powerful shoulders to perfection, he exuded wealth and success. The only thing that hadn’t changed was the air of raw power that clung to him like a second skin.

      Lindsay felt her heart rate double and fought the impulse to take a step backwards. No way was she going to let him have the upper hand. He’d stop in a moment—he had to.

      But he didn’t.

      He strolled right up to her and backed her against the wall, decisive, masculine and very much the one in control.

      Flustered, she lifted her hands and then dropped them again. ‘Alessio, for goodness’ sake—’

      ‘I’m not talking about a staid exchange of views over a quiet drink in one of your English country pubs. I’m talking about an explosion of passion, real intimacy.’ He planted a powerful arm on either side of her head, blocking her escape route. ‘I’m talking about real intimacy, Lindsay. Hot, sticky, exciting intimacy—intimacy that makes your heart race and makes you forget that you have responsibilities—’

      ‘Alessio—’

      ‘Intimacy that’s out of your control. Intimacy that drives you to bad decisions. I’m talking about man-woman stuff.’ His eyes glittered, dark and dangerous, and his mouth was suddenly terrifyingly close to hers. ‘Animal instinct.’

      ‘Alessio!’

      ‘Ever felt that, Lindsay—’ his breath was warm against her mouth ‘—the sort where logic and self-control don’t get a look-in?’

      He was going to kiss her.

      This time, Alessio Capelli was going to kiss her.

      There was a buzzing in her ears, her knees felt like jelly and her stomach burned with wicked sexual excitement. Even as her brain struggled to resist it, she could feel herself going under, submerged by swirling waters of dark, dangerous passion.

      The damaged child inside her was screaming at him to go away, but the woman inside her wanted him right where he was.

      His gaze held hers for a long moment and then his arms dropped to his sides and he took a step backwards. ‘That’s the sort of relationship I’m talking about, little Lindsay.’

      Her heart was pounding so hard that for a moment she was terrified that she might actually pass out. She blinked several times to clear her vision and forced herself to breathe slowly. And then humiliation rushed through her veins because she knew she’d been microseconds away from sliding her arms round his strong neck and pressing her mouth against his. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’ It wasn’t disappointment she was feeling. It absolutely wasn’t going to be disappointment.

      ‘I know you don’t. And that’s the point I’m making. How the hell has someone like you managed to carve out a career for yourself advising couples on their relationships?’

      It wasn’t safe to be this close to him. And not because of him.

      She just couldn’t trust herself— ‘Just because I haven’t made a mistake—’

      ‘Your idea of a mistake is another person’s idea of a life,’ he said dryly and she clasped her hands in front of her.

      ‘You’re talking about meaningless sex—’

      ‘And you don’t think two people can have a relationship based on meaningless sex?’ His eyes narrowed. ‘Trust me, tesoro. A relationship based on meaningless sex is the best sort.’

      His remark restored her common sense. ‘Which brings us right back to the point I made earlier—’ strength ran through her veins and she met his gaze bravely ‘—that you don’t know anything about true intimacy. Intimacy is not a cuddle at the end of sex. Intimacy is about sharing. Real love is about sharing thoughts and feelings, hope and fears.’

      Alessio gave a faint smile. ‘Then I’m truly relieved that I’ve managed to avoid your type of “intimacy”,’ he drawled. ‘And people’s spurious belief in something they call love is what keeps my phone ringing.’

      Lindsay gave an exasperated sigh. ‘Love exists. And if you’ve never experienced that first-hand or witnessed it, then I feel sorry for you. It must be very cold and lonely in your bed.’ She regretted the words instantly and, sure enough, his sensual mouth curved into a wicked smile.

      ‘Generating heat in my bed isn’t one of my problems,’ he drawled softly, ‘so any time you need a practical demonstration of alternative energy sources, just bang on my bedroom door, tesoro.’

      Lindsay lifted her fingers to her forehead and breathed deeply. ‘I suppose it’s your job that’s made you so very cynical—’

      ‘Realistic,’ he slotted in helpfully. ‘It’s made me realistic. Which is why I haven’t had to pay out a fortune in alimony.’

      ‘You have no experience whatsoever of sustaining a loving, intimate and accepting relationship.’

      His gaze was mocking. ‘Of course “loving, intimate and accepting relationship” can be conveniently shorted to LIAR, a word which effectively describes everyone who claims to be happily married.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘Fascinating and absorbing though this discussion is, I have an anxious