did believe in his innocence. After everything he was doing to her, she believed him.
If he took the proof to the FBI as he intended then she would never believe in him again.
It would devastate her.
Could he really do that to her?
Hadn’t she suffered enough?
The cheers from their guests brought him back to the present.
His silence had been so long they clearly assumed he’d finished. He couldn’t remember the rest of what he was going to say anyway.
The band started playing again.
‘Shall we dance?’ he said.
Her hand was still in his. She gave one of those shy smiles he adored so much and nodded.
He led her to the centre of the dance floor and took her into his arms.
Smiling, she looped her arms around his neck and sighed, gazing up at him. ‘Thank you for bringing my family here.’
He knew she didn’t mean the Mantegnas.
‘You’re welcome. They seem like nice people.’
‘They do.’ Her eyes shone. ‘Thank you.’
She moved closer to him, their legs touching, his groin pressing into her abdomen, even with the height of her sandals giving her an extra lift. And then she raised herself onto her toes and, her eyes still gazing into his, pressed her mouth tentatively to his.
He stilled, unsure whether this was a kiss of gratitude or something more.
Only when she tightened her hold around his neck and parted her lips did he dare believe it was something more.
Her sweet breath suffused him. Her sweet scent filled him. The softness of her lips...
He forgot that only weeks ago this party had been arranged with the sole purpose of showing Elena off on his arm in front of her father and letting him know in no uncertain terms that she belonged to him.
None of that mattered.
Elena was kissing him with feather-light movements and the tiniest darts of her tongue, and it was the most erotic, moving kiss he had ever experienced.
Running his hand up her spine, he captured the nape of her slender neck and kissed her back with the same languidness she kissed him.
When she eventually broke away, she buried her head in his shoulder and gave a muffled laugh.
He squeezed her tightly, adoring the feel of her pressed so close to him. And wished that everything could be different.
THE REST OF the evening passed in a happy daze. Elena had never expected to enjoy the party but she did. Meeting her Swedish family had been the pinnacle and when she and Gabriele left it was with promises to visit them very soon.
They took the short walk back to the apartment in silence, hands clasped, tension thick between them. Gabriele had long since removed his dinner jacket and bow tie, but the night air was so warm he slung it over his shoulder rather than put it back on. Or was it the heat swirling between them keeping him warm?
She had never felt such depth for someone, or such gratitude. Every time she remembered her brothers’ faces when he’d reprimanded them she wanted to laugh. Every time she thought of what he’d done in bringing her Swedish family there she wanted to cry. It had been the most thoughtful thing she could imagine and he’d done it without any selfish motive. He’d done it for her.
She could never explain how much it meant.
The only way she’d been able to think to show how much it meant was by giving him the one thing she’d been denying him. She’d kissed him.
And now she knew it hadn’t just been him she’d been denying by her refusal to kiss but herself too.
In the apartment they went straight to the bedroom, Gabriele throwing his dinner jacket onto a chair as they passed.
Elena closed the door behind them and leant against it, tugging at the ankle straps of her sandals and kicking them off, staring at him, the most beautiful man in the world.
And he stared right back, a fever in his eyes that filled every crevice.
She held out a hand. When he reached to take it, she took a step towards him and placed his palm on her chest, letting him feel the hammering of her heart. Her lonely heart that had somehow, without her knowing when or how, become whole.
His breathing was as heavy as her own, his eyes dark, molten.
Stepping even closer, she placed a kiss on his neck and inhaled his scent, then slowly moved her lips up, over his jawline, across his cheeks and then to his mouth.
She breathed him in as she kissed him and wound her arms around his neck, exploring him with her lips and her tongue, heat filling her trembling body.
He held her securely to him, letting her take the lead.
Dragging her fingers down his chest, she undid the buttons on his shirt, their kisses deepening.
One hand still splayed on the base of her back, he undid his trousers. Between them they removed his shirt and tugged his trousers and underwear down until he stood naked, his erection jutting against her belly.
She’d never known she could feel such need for someone. She’d never dreamt there would come a day when she would physically ache for a man and that her heart would race so hard it would feel bruised.
Now she broke the kiss and took a step back.
Gabriele thought he might be drowning.
He’d never known one kiss could make his entire body ignite with something more combustible than mere lust.
Whatever this was, he’d never felt it before. There was a voice in his head warning him of danger but he was helpless to obey it.
He didn’t want to obey it.
Right now, this moment, Elena kissing him as if she would consume him, every one of her looks spearing him...it would be easier to slice a limb off than walk away.
‘Get on the bed,’ she whispered, standing as still as a statue, only the rise and fall of her chest showing life...and those mesmeric eyes that bore into him.
On legs that felt strangely boneless, he did as she bid, not taking his eyes off her.
Only when he was leaning back against the headboard on the bed did she come back to life.
She took a deep, trembling breath then gathered her dress in her hands and pulled it up and over her head. The movement dislodged whatever had been holding her hair in place, white-blonde locks spilling
