The Italian's Runaway Bride. Jacqueline Baird

with longing in her brilliant sapphire eyes, and in seconds Gianni was naked.

      Fascination kept her still, her eyes roaming over his body in wonder. He was magnificent, like a sculptured god to her innocent gaze. She dragged a breath into her air-starved lungs and caught that musky fragrance of masculine arousal. She saw his sex surging from the curling black nest of his groin, and wild colour flooded over every inch of her skin.

      Gianni, reaching out for her, hesitated for a second and stepped back, his dark eyes narrowing. ‘You’re blushing as though you had never seen a naked man before.’

      ‘The curse of the McKenzies, my father always said. He was ginger-haired and always blushed.’ She was babbling, she knew, but without Gianni’s touch to reassure her she suddenly felt exposed. ‘My mother suffered from the same affliction, and I take after both my parents.’

      ‘Hush.’ Gianni silenced her ramblings by drawing her into his arms. ‘I like it,’ he said, and quite unexpectedly he felt rotten. Kelly knew next to nothing about him, not even his real name. He must tell her.

      ‘And I like you,’ Kelly murmured as he held her close to his naked body. She was drowning in a million sensations. She did not care that the light was still on; in fact, she knew the picture of him in all his nudity would live with her to her dying day. She stroked her slender hands up his spine, down over his buttocks. He felt like satin and steel, hot and hard, and she ached to know every inch of him.

      Gianni’s great body shuddered as her small hot hand slid like silk up his spine. He swung her up into his arms and carried her to the bed, dropped her down on it.

      Breathless, she smiled up at him, a slow, soft curve of her incredibly sexy mouth. Her sapphire-blue eyes, shining like stars, met his, and she reached two slender arms out to him.

      ‘My full…’ Name, he was going to say, but her lithe naked body spread on the bed was too much. ‘Dio, sì, Kelly,’ he said in a strangled voice. It could wait, but he couldn’t, and he joined her on the bed.

      Her heart racing, Kelly curved her hands around his shoulders, letting her fingers curl into the soft black hair at the nape of his neck, urging him down to her. ‘Yes,’ she breathed. A tremulous little gasp caught in her throat, and anticipation made her moan out loud as he covered her face with tiny kisses before finally claiming her mouth. She felt his kiss, the stroke of his hand down to cup the fullness of her breast in every cell in her body. Excitement surged through her, making her arch against him with a soft whimper of need. Her fingers dug into his skin as he lowered his head, trailing a fiery line of kisses down her throat to her breast, his mouth closing over one hard tip, suckling and tasting, until she cried out with pleasure.

      With a wantonness that amazed her, her body responded to his every touch. He was a magnificent male animal, power and virility in every line of his huge body. He nudged her legs apart with one of his own, and she gasped as his long fingers delved between her thighs, but her legs moved wider, welcoming the intimate caress.

      Her hands slipped down to clutch his hips, one small hand stroking across his thigh, revelling in the different textures of skin and soft curling body hair, and tentatively to the core of his manhood.

      Gianni instantly reared back. ‘Kelly,’ he grated, his massive chest heaving. He wanted to take it slowly. He wanted it to be good for her, the best ever. He did not ask himself why.

      ‘Don’t stop,’ Kelly begged, her blue eyes, dark with need, fixed on his hard face. ‘Please, please,’ she moaned.

      Gianni slid his hands beneath her hips and lifted her to him. His need for her sang in his blood, raced through his veins. There was a roaring in his ears and any notion of taking it slowly was obliterated.

      With one swift thrust he entered her, sheathing himself inside her. Kelly cried out as a fierce pain ripped through her. For a second Gianni froze, but before she could react to the pain with a low groan he surged into the hot, sleek centre of her again and again, and slowly the pain subsided. Euphoria took over as he drove her higher and higher to some destination she had only ever dreamed about.

      Afterwards Kelly wrapped her arms around his neck, hugging his great body, relishing his weight on her as the sounds of their frantic breathing became regulated. She could not find the words to describe how he made her feel. He had captured her heart and soul. ‘I love you,’ she sighed, and with a murmur of pleasure kissed his sweat-slicked shoulder, still wanting more.

      Gianni said something harsh and guttural in Italian and tore himself from her arms and leapt off the bed. ‘You were a virgin,’ he grated incredulously, his dark eyes narrowing down to where she lay naked on the bed. ‘Why the hell did you not tell me?’ he demanded with barely contained rage. He could not believe he had lost control so totally and maybe fallen for the oldest trick in the book…