her upturned features, his only response to her protest was a smile that made her want to hit him.
‘You spend too many evenings alone with your romantic dreams. Sex isn’t about soft focus and sweet music,’ he derided scornfully. ‘Sex is visceral. It’s about smells and texture…’ Without warning he reached out and ran a long brown finger down the inner aspect of her wrist. Sam gasped as the light contact sent an electric shock through her body.
When she finally got her paralysed vocal cords to respond, her voice seemed to be coming from a long way away. ‘Thank you for the lesson…’ She had no doubt at all that he was a master of the subject.
His mesmerising eyes locked onto hers and Sam felt her knees shake.
‘It’s about sweat.’ His low, throaty purr had an almost narcotic quality, and Sam, aware of the danger it presented, was seduced by it anyway.
She might not like the man, she might loathe what he was and what he stood for, but she wasn’t crazy enough to imagine she had been granted some sort of immunity to the raw sexuality he exuded.
Painfully conscious of her wildly quivering stomach muscles, and aware that she was quite literally panting—which could give the wrong impression—Sam fought to control her breathing, perfectly aware that there was nothing mutual about the chemical reaction she was suffering. How could there be? Compared to the sexy, in-control women he dated, she must seem like a sexless reject…an oddity.
Sam sniffed and lifted her chin to an aggressive angle. At that moment if she had been granted any wish she would have blown it without a second thought for that special X factor that made some women totally irresistible to the opposite sex—or at least one of the opposite sex.
Well, let’s face it, Sam, the only place you’re going to be able to say no when he begs you to be with him is in your dreams.
‘If I want sweat I’ll go to a gym,’ she retorted, just managing to sound derisive even though her knees were shaking.
The longer this confrontation went on the stronger the feeling became that she was a voyeur rather than a participant in the scene. She shivered and released a scared gasp as his half-closed eyes moved over her slender body.
‘What you need is some reality,’ he concluded.
His thickened accent nailed her to the spot. Was there anything short of a Lotto win that was less real than discussing sweaty sex with Alessandro Di Livio? ‘Reality…?’ A shaky laugh emerged from her lips, sounding reckless when in reality she had never felt less reckless in her life.
‘What I don’t need,’ she panted hoarsely, ‘is advice from you!’
‘What you need is some…’ his heavy-lidded eyes touched her mouth and his own lips quirked ‘…substance.’
‘Next you’ll be telling me that what I need is you…’ Her scornful laugh faded as he took her face between his big hands, and she thought, Did I invite this…?
As he looked at her wide, soft pink mouth, a sound that was close to a growl vibrated in his throat. Sam felt the vibration and opened her own mouth to say something frosty and ascerbically cutting, which would awaken him to the fact that he wasn’t dealing with one of his simpering push-overs, but encountered his glittering eyes. All her life her cutting one-liners had saved her from uncomfortable situations, yet now, of all times, her ability to deliver a slick comeback had failed her!
The last time she had seen that much barely restrained heat had been in a disaster movie about a volcano. She became aware of the fact that she was no longer cold—no longer cold to the point where she was burning up.
‘If you kiss me I’ll sleep with Jonny,’ she hissed.
Chapter Five
OF COURSE she realised too late that this wasn’t the sort of man who responded well to threats—even empty ones. Only he didn’t know it was empty, because he clearly considered her a trollop when he wasn’t thinking she was frigid. His entire attitude towards her was decidedly schizophrenic.
Alessandro cupped the back of her head in one hand and drew her face up to his. This was one of those moments that definitely required a verbal bucket of cold water to stop a bad situation getting worse.
A moment where Sam knew she had to send him a very strong, unambiguous message.
Moaning and grabbing his jacket while she gasped, ‘Oh, God!’ was not the message she had intended to send! But it was either that or fall down at his feet, so she chose the option which was on balance marginally less humiliating.
His long fingers moved through the strands of hair, grazing her scalp and causing several million nerve-endings to sigh as she inhaled the warm male scent of his hard, lean body. There was an expression of fierce fascination in his face as he let the silky strands fall through his fingers, making Sam’s senses spin.
‘Your hair should be hot,’ he rasped throatily.
Why not? The rest of me is. She was burning up from the inside out. Common sense told her that there were no flames burning in his utterly spectacular eyes, but knowing it was a mirage didn’t stop her stomach dropping to somewhere below her knees.
‘I really think…Oh, God…’ She sucked in her breath sharply as he moved his thumb across her trembling lips. ‘The thing is, you don’t have to do this…’
It didn’t take a genius to work out his sudden interest. He thought if he kissed her she would forget about Jonny and start lusting after him. An inconvenience he was no doubt prepared to put up with for his sister’s sake!
Her heavy lids lifted when he stopped what he was doing—something which Sam was dismayed to discover she had mixed feelings about. Blinking, her passion-glazed eyes wide and wary, she glimpsed for a split second his expression. She thought he looked shocked, then a short, strange laugh was wrenched from his throat and he bent his head towards her.
‘The thing is, though, I find I do.’ His expression suggested that the discovery didn’t make him overwhelmingly happy.
‘But I’m not going to seduce Jonny,’ she protested weakly. ‘And if I did,’ she confessed, ‘he probably wouldn’t notice. He doesn’t think of me as a girl…’
Alessandro focused on the curve of her lower lip, which was hard to do without biting into the luscious pink softness. ‘Not even he is that much of an idiot…’ he said, thinking he probably was.
‘He is…That is, no, Jonny’s not an idiot!’ Sam protested. ‘You just don’t understand—’
Alessandro’s angry voice cut across her faltering defence of the man she was clearly infatuated with. ‘I don’t want to understand,’ he informed her tautly.
‘But you…’ The raw, driven intensity of the way he was looking at her made the words dry as her aching throat closed over.
‘The only thing I want to do is taste you,’ he confided, in a rough velvet drawl that made every individual cell of her body ache with a deeply disturbing nameless need. ‘And I’d prefer you didn’t talk about another man while I do it.’
‘Don’t I have any say in the matter?’
She stopped, her expression freezing as she realised that she wanted to kiss him. She wanted him so much that she could feel it in her bones. And, actually, what harm could it do?
My God, am I even considering letting this man kiss me? Could I stop him? And, more to the point, do I want to stop him?
Well, it might be interesting. Actually being kissed by a man who was hard and lean, who smelt delicious and male and…Sucking in a horrified breath, she brought her private debate to an abrupt halt. Interesting…! God, I’m going insane—stark, staring mad!
Alessandro gave a fierce smile and ran a brown