is.’ He laughed. ‘I didn’t have to bully you so very much.’
She buttoned her lips and a small frown pleated that space between her eyebrows. ‘I wanted to see the fireworks.’
He laughed again.
‘It’s the truth.’
‘I’m sure it is.’ He framed her face in his hands so he could look into her eyes the way he’d wanted to from the moment he’d first seen her.
‘What are you doing?’ she asked in the gentlest whisper.
‘Getting closer.’
‘Why?’
‘Fireworks.’ He leaned close enough to feel her sweet breath on his face. ‘This still isn’t coercion, by the way. This is seduction.’
‘Is it?’ She shook her head ever so slightly. ‘You’re very...tall,’ she muttered weakly. ‘And strong. You picked me up—’
‘Easily, and the caveman in me enjoyed that. But I promise I won’t do anything you don’t want me to. What do you think?’
‘I think you’re a silver-tongued devil with decades of experience at making women feel good.’
‘Decades? How old do you think I am?’
‘In terms of experience you’re ancient, whereas I’m a mere babe in the woods.’
‘Are you? Why’s that?’ He watched her pupils dilate, filling with her secrets.
She didn’t answer.
‘Caramellina,’ he murmured again, lost in the warm depths of her gaze and the soft feel of her skin beneath his fingers. ‘You even smell sweet.’ An intoxicating combination of roses and vanilla.
He stared into her luminous eyes for a long time and for every moment of it she met his gaze. They stood, stilled in that silent connection until he saw it—that sensual curiosity that he felt, revealed and reflected in her. More than curiosity, it was a pull that could no longer be ignored. Her lips parted and the smallest of sighs escaped her.
‘Oh, all right, then, do your worst,’ she breathed.
He chuckled. ‘I think you mean my best.’
‘Whatever, just get it over with.’
Her breathing was a little quick and he paused.
‘I wouldn’t want to bother someone unwilling.’ He softened his hold on her.
‘I’m not unwilling.’ She almost ground her teeth.
He half laughed again. ‘No?’
‘No,’ she snapped. ‘Just kiss me already.’
He brushed his lips over hers as gently as he was able to, desperately trying to go slowly because she was flighty. He’d pull out every trick he knew to tempt her closer, so she wouldn’t startle and step back. He wanted this too much.
She felt like a fragile flower and he didn’t want to crush her. But then her soft lips parted and she let him in. With his first real taste the attempt to go slowly became strained. Then he felt her tongue shyly seeking, and her arms slid up his back.
His chest tightened and he abandoned all idea of going slowly. Any kind of strategy burned as pure instinct blew his brain out. The kiss was hungry and hot and hard in the thud of a heartbeat. To his immense pleasure, she rose more to meet him, her soft curves pressing against him as a sultry moan escaped her. It felt like the first drink after a long thirst, like finding an oasis after months in the desert. She was lush and sweet and so responsive he lost his head completely.
He swept his hands over her body, feeling for himself that, yes, there was no bra beneath that tight, white sheath, neither was there any underwear at all. Desire stabbed so hard he hauled her closer still, deepening the kiss to a completely carnal one. He wanted more of it—more of the softness in her embrace, more of her ardent response, more of her sweet, sultry heat. He wanted everything.
He was so taken aback by the way she melted that all he could do was pull her closer until they were sealed from lips to hips in a passionate, never-ending force of hunger. Finesse and skill and seduction be damned. This was too elemental for that. She was too elemental—with unexpected depths and desire.
At the sound of thunderclaps overhead they broke apart. Breathing hard, he glanced up at the explosion of colour raining across the sky.
Damn fireworks.
Grace released a long breath and then he heard her delighted gust of laughter.
‘It’s so beautiful.’
He kept hold of her hands. He wanted her back in his arms, but her hands would have to do because he refused to curtail her enjoyment of this. He watched the colours above reflected in her eyes and skin and waited for the sky to go silent again. Finally, blessedly, it did.
‘Show’s over,’ he said, his voice husky.
‘I guess it’s time to go home,’ she agreed quietly.
As he led her to his car he kept hold of her hand, rubbing his thumb over hers. He didn’t want this warmth to literally slip through his fingers. In that bleak emptiness this afternoon he’d never have imagined his evening would end with such a sweet, insatiable lover in his bed.
‘That was spectacular.’ She sighed contentedly and snuggled lower in the passenger seat.
He quite agreed.
‘I really liked the massive one at the end. It was like a kaleidoscope of colours.’
His hands tightened on the wheel. Was she talking about the actual fireworks? Not the kiss they’d shared? He half choked at being levelled with a casual comment. He’d have to straighten out her priorities. He had far better fireworks than those on the agenda for her.
She quietened as he cruised along the winding lakefront road towards Bellezzo and the Villa Rosetta beyond. The warm breeze tempered the thudding desire roaring through his system. He had no desire to race. Anticipation feathered across his skin like hot silk. He’d take his time and treat her to absolute, exquisite torture. For the first time in weeks he felt invigorated.
‘You’re coming back to the villa with me, aren’t you, Grace?’ he asked softly. But he got no response.
He glanced at her and then braked in surprise. ‘Grace? Grace?’
In the moonlight she was unbearably beautiful. And she simply had to come back with him now given he had no idea where in the village she was staying.
‘Grace?’
It seemed he wasn’t about to get a sensible answer out of her either. Because the maddening, unpredictable minx had fallen fast asleep.
GRACIE DREW THE soft blanket closer and blinked sleepily at the beam of light streaming through the small gap in the curtains. She didn’t want it to be morning. She didn’t want to go to work. She didn’t...know where the heck she was!
She jerked upright, staring in amazement at the beautiful furnishings. She was in that massive bedroom in the Villa Rosetta. Mortifying memories slammed into her mind, eviscerating the last of her blissful sleep fog—the crazy hose, that designer dress, that exquisite kiss.
Her pulse fired like a sprinter false-starting from the blocks.
Okay, she was better off not remembering the kiss. Her skin burned and she threw back the blanket covering her. She huffed a relieved sigh when she saw she was still wearing the white dress.
She frowned. The last thing she could recall was getting into Rafael’s car to leave the party.