Dear God, he hoped so. He prayed so.
He needed time to recover; time to get his body and his mind back under control. He needed time to work out just what he’d done by acting without thought, without any consideration of the consequences. Without looking ahead into the future at all.
He needed time to decide just where the hell they went from here.
Forcing his eyes open, he turned his head to one side, looking into Amber’s relaxed face, wondering just what might be going on behind those closed lids.
“I won’t sleep with you!” she had declared so vehemently only a short time before. Not even two hours ago. “I won’t. I’ll never…”
And, “Never say never,” he’d flung back, totally sure of himself—of her. “Never say never.”
Dio! A rush of self-mocking laughter rocked his body and he shook his head in despair at his own foolishness.
So now what did he do?
Staring up at the ceiling, he ruefully reflected on what he had originally planned. How he had meant things to go from the moment he had learned about Amber’s proposed marriage.
It had been Vito who had told him. His younger brother had come back from a business meeting in London in the foulest of moods but when questioned had refused to say exactly why. Instead, and obviously in an effort to distract Guido from his questions, he had announced that Rafe St Clair, a man they knew of only too well, was getting married.
He had had no idea of just how effective his diversionary tactics were.
Guido could still remember—still feel—the remaining embers of the world-rocking combination of shock, disbelief and white-hot rage that had shot through him when his brother had told him of the prospective bride.
‘Her name’s Amber Wellesley,’ Vito had said. ‘Apparently she lives in the same village. Her father was a friend of Rafe’s father but he died before this girl was born.’
Sitting up slightly, Guido looked down into the shuttered face of the woman beside him. Did she know what it had done to him to find out that she was getting married? It had been bad enough when she had declared that she was walking out because he wasn’t what she wanted—he wasn’t good enough for her. She’d met someone else, someone with standing, with a lineage that matched her own.
Hellfire, it was a good thing that he had never, ever told her the truth about his own position, his own wealth. If he had she might have stayed—and he would never have been able to trust her reasoning.
No, he’d told her to go if that was the way she felt. He’d been so savagely furious that he’d damn nearly pushed her out of the door. But in the end, he’d been the one to walk out. At that moment he’d never wanted to see her again.
Besides, he’d been convinced that, given time to calm down, think things through, she’d come back to him. He’d never expected that she would actually go ahead and marry the man she’d left him for. And stopping that marriage had been the main thing on his mind when he’d come to England this time.
After that, he’d planned to take things slowly—check out how the land lay before he made any rash or foolish moves. He was definitely not going to let his libido rush him into things this time.
‘Hah!’
Unable to stay still a moment longer, Guido started to swing his legs off the bed and froze in a moment of total shock.
He had been so out of control, so hot for Amber that he hadn’t even taken his trousers off, for God’s sake! What sort of man was he? What sort of an animal did she turn him into?
He had totally lost control—totally lost his mind. He didn’t like what he became around Amber and that was the truth. What he became was a man who couldn’t think clearly, couldn’t act rationally. And as a man who had prided himself on doing both of those things, he was definitely knocked off balance as a result.
Swallowing down another curse, he sorted out his clothing in a rush, zipping up his trousers and pulling his belt tight with a viciousness that eloquently expressed the way he was feeling, before swinging away to the window and staring down at the hotel grounds, where the evening was now gathering in, turning the sunlight of the day into dusk.
‘Guido?’
The voice—her voice—came from behind him. From the bed where he had thought—hoped—that she lay asleep. His unwary movements must have disturbed her and she was awake, well before he was ready to speak to her.
‘Yes?’
He knew the single word was a bad-tempered snap but didn’t turn to see the effect it had on her. Instead, he kept his back to her, stared determinedly out of the window even though his eyes were so unfocused that he couldn’t see a thing in front of him.
‘What do we do now?’
What do we do now!
She had asked him the question that had been in his mind ever since he’d come round from the frenzy of desire that had scrambled his brain. The question that he’d wanted more time to come up with an answer to.
‘How the hell should I know?’ he growled at the window, not ready to turn round and face her.
‘What?’
His tone had been so low, so rough that she hadn’t caught it.
‘Guido, I wish you’d look…’
Her voice faded as he swung round, hands pushed deep into his trouser pockets, jaw clamped tight over the things that clamoured to be said—the things he wanted to say—didn’t want to say. The things he had no idea how to say.
‘I said, how the hell should I know?’
She was regretting asking him to look at her now, that much was obvious in the way that she flinched back against the pillows.
‘I’m sorry…’
Conscience made him say it, but he knew that it came out far too abruptly and only sounded perfunctory. The truth was that he wished he hadn’t turned round. That was another stupid mistake he’d made.
Just looking at her lying there on top of the rumpled covers of the bed had an effect that was practically sending his brain into meltdown. She was still wearing only the ridiculous corset thing, that and the suspender belt and stockings-and nothing else. Her hair was tumbled all around her face, her green eyes huger than ever in her pale face. Her lips looked swollen from the heat of his kisses and her beautiful breasts were bare and exposed, their rosy nipples still glowing from…
Porca miseria—no! He was not going to think about that! Couldn’t think about it or he would lose what little grip he had on his self-control. Already, just looking at her, he felt the brutal clutch of lust between his legs, and in his concealing pockets his hands clenched into hard, tight fists to stop himself from pulling them out and using them to touch her—to arouse her again—to make her melt underneath him…
‘No!’
His already savagely uneasy mood was made all the worse by the way that Amber was reacting. She was staring at him as if he had suddenly grown a pair of horns. And while her eyes held his, one slender hand was reaching down, trying to find an edge on the covers, to pull them back up around her, covering her nakedness.
‘Oh, for God’s sake!’ he exploded. ‘Isn’t it a little late to go coy on me? It’s not as if there’s anything I haven’t seen and touched—and more—already. And we are man and wife!’
‘Not from any choice of mine!’
She was being deliberately provoking and he knew it. But he also had no idea of just how much truth was actually behind those words and, because he didn’t know, it only added to his already unbalanced mood.
‘That wasn’t what you said the first time—then you couldn’t