was over.
Her eyes widened. ‘Why?’
‘Because I want to see it. And because you’re staying.’
Her fingers touched the knot at the back of her head. Anticipation spiked through him only to be doused in disappointment when she lowered her hand.
‘I prefer to keep it up.’
‘If you’re trying to keep me hyped up with interest, trust me, it’s working.’
‘I’m not, I mean... My hair is no big deal.’
‘It is to me. I have a weakness for long hair.’
Her head tilted to one side, exposing a creamy neck he longed to explore. ‘If I take my hair down, will you take your mask off?’
As much as he wanted to rip his mask off, something told him to delay the urge. ‘No,’ he replied. ‘My house, my rules.’
‘That’s not fair, is it?’
‘If life was fair you’d be naked and underneath me by now.’
A blush splashed up her exquisite throat and stung her cheeks. Molten lust rushed into his groin and spread through his body. Feeling restricted and seriously on edge, he shrugged off his tuxedo jacket and flung it over the long sofa. Next came the bow tie. He left that dangling to tackle the top buttons of his shirt and looked up to find her gaze riveted on him.
Good, he was not alone in this. Sexual desire pulsed from her in drenching waves. Which made the reticence in her eyes all the more intriguing.
Enough!
In three strides, he stood in front of her. She made a high, surprised noise as he tugged her close. Without giving her a chance to protest further, he swooped down and took her lips with his.
She tasted glorious. Like a shot of premium tequila on a sultry night. Like warm sunshine and decadent, sticky desserts. Like jumping off the highest peak of an icy mountain with nothing beneath him but air and infinite possibilities.
Narciso’s lids slid shut against the drugging sensation of her lips.
Madre di Dio! He was hard. Harder than he’d ever been. And he’d only been kissing her a few seconds.
She made another sound in her throat and her lips parted. Her tongue darted out to meet his and he plunged in, desperate for more, desperate to discover her every secret.
He deepened the kiss and groaned as her hands slid up his biceps to entwine around his shoulders. In a curiously innocent move, she tentatively caressed his nape before boldly spiking her fingers into his hair.
The scrape of her fingers against his scalp made him shudder with escalating arousal. Raising his head, he gazed down into eyes darkened with desire. ‘Amante, you already know what pleases me.’
Shock clouded her expression, as if what she’d achieved had stunned her.
Without giving her a chance to speak, he took her luscious mouth again. The highly potent sound of their kisses echoed in the room as they devoured each other.
Pulling her even closer, he finally touched the pulse that had taunted him all evening. It sang beneath his touch, racing with her excitement.
She inhaled deeply, and her breasts smashed against his chest. He cupped one, glorying in the weight and perfect fit of it as his thumb brushed across one rigid nub.
She jerked and her teeth sank into her bottom lip. With a rough sound, she pulled away.
Narciso continued to play with her nipple as they stared at each other. Her mouth, wet and slightly swollen, parted as she sucked in panicked breaths.
‘You like the way I make you feel?’ He brought his other hand up from her waist and cupped her other breast, attending to the equally stiff and aching peak. ‘I promise I will make you feel even better. Now take your hair down and show me how gorgeous you really are.’
* * *
The words pulled Ruby from the drugged stupor she was drowning in. Reality didn’t rush in, it trickled in slowly.
Blinking eyelids heavy with desire, she tried to focus on something other than his arrestingly gorgeous face—the part not covered by his mask.
First, she noticed the stunning chandelier. Then a repeat of that bold dragon motif from downstairs on the wall behind his shoulder. Reality rushed in faster. Stunningly designed black velvet sofas, including an authentic French chaise longue perfect for reclining in...
Then her focus drew in closer. She glanced down at the powerful hands cupping her breasts.
The sight was so erotically intoxicating it nearly knocked her off her feet.
Sensation shot between her thighs, stinging so painfully, she wanted to place her hand there, seek some sort of relief.
‘Take your hair down for me,’ he insisted again.
She came plunging back down to earth. ‘No!’
Telling herself she didn’t care about the jaw that tightened in displeasure, she took several steps away from his hot, tempting body.
Focus, Ruby!
The last time she’d mixed business with pleasure, she’d almost ended up becoming the one thing she despised above all else—a participant in infidelity. It didn’t matter that she hadn’t known Simon was married. The very thought of what could’ve happened made shame lodge in her belly.
She was here to get Narciso Valentino to honour his deal with her, not to get pulled into the same dangerous vortex of emotions that led to nothing but pain and heartache.
Her father’s inability to limit his sexual urges to his marital bed and her mother’s indecision whether to fight or turn a blind eye had made her childhood a living hell. It’d been the reason why she’d slept most nights with her headphones on and music blaring in her ears. Even then she’d been unable to block out the blistering rows or her mother’s heart-wrenching sobs.
And after her experience with Simon, there was no way would she allow herself to jump on that unpredictable roller coaster.
She took another step back, despite the magnetic pull of desire dragging her to Narciso. Despite the soul-deep notion that sex with him would be pulse-poundingly breathtaking. Despite—
Despite nothing!
Her treacherous genetic make-up didn’t mean she would allow herself to fall into the same trap as her mother just because an unrepentant, unscrupulous playboy like Narciso Valentino crooked his wicked finger.
But she couldn’t risk alienating him before she got what she’d come here for. Licking tingling lips, she forced her brain to track.
She cast her gaze around the large, luxuriously appointed suite. Seeing the extensive, well-stocked bar on the far side of the room, she made a beeline for it. ‘Here, let me get you another drink.’
‘You don’t need to get me drunk to have your way with me, amante.’
She flushed and stopped, whirling to find him directly behind her. The sheer size of him, the arousal stamped so clearly in his eyes, made her breath fracture. ‘Stop calling me that.’
A small smile played around his exquisite mouth. ‘You know what it means.’
She nodded. ‘Yes, I’m Italian.’
‘And I’m Sicilian. Big difference, but we will speak your language for now.’
‘Whatever language we speak, I don’t want you referring to me as a...as your...’
‘Lover?’
‘Yes. I don’t like it.’
‘What do you want me to call you?’
‘Just call me Ruby.’ She didn’t mind telling him her name.