and jealous around those other women. For ever hoping even for a second that his bringing her here tonight had meant something...
She raised a hand to get the doorman’s attention, to ask him to call her a cab, but just then it was caught by a firm grip and she was whirled around.
‘Where do you think you’re going?’
Rafaele looked as livid as she felt, and he had no right to be. Sam pulled her arm free. ‘I’m going home, Rafaele. I don’t need to be reminded publicly how little you like to acknowledge me in your life.’
She turned around again, but gave a gasp of dismay when she saw Rafaele’s chauffeur-driven car stopping at the foot of the steps. He was marching her down to the open door before she could do anything. The door was quickly shut and he was sliding in the other side. Sam had a perverse urge to open the door and jump out but she curbed the childish desire. And also she realised she didn’t have enough money for a cab. She scowled at herself. Being with Rafaele was eroding her very independence.
Rafaele issued a terse instruction to the driver and the privacy window slid up noiselessly. His eyes glittered at her in the gloom of the backseat but even now Sam’s muscles clenched in her pelvis, and she felt the betraying heat of desire getting her body ready for this man. Her man. The stupid assertion flashed again. She could have growled with frustration.
Eventually he bit out, ‘I shouldn’t have said what I did back there. You didn’t deserve that.’
It was the last thing Sam had expected to hear, and she said faintly, ‘No, I didn’t.’ And then, ‘Why did you bring me with you, Rafaele? People will only ask questions...when they find out about Milo... We shouldn’t be seen together. It doesn’t help matters.’
Rafaele’s face looked as if it was carved out of stone. ‘You’re the mother of my child, Samantha. It’s inevitable that we’ll be seen together, no matter what happens in the future.’
Sam had an image then of Rafaele, married to some cool blonde beauty, and of an older Milo heading off on a plane on his own to stay with his father and his new family. The image made her suck in a breath of pain and she scooted as far away from him in the back of the car as she could.
Mixed in with the pain she was feeling was the ever-present and building sexual frustration. She felt as if she was going mad. Heat burned her insides and made her skin prickle. All she could see in her peripheral vision was the huge dark shape of Rafaele and imagined that powerful body, naked and surging into hers, thrusting so deep that she’d finally feel some measure of peace.
She had to hold back a groan, and was aware of Rafaele’s quick glance at her through the thick tension between them.
Lord. It had been a long time since Sam had had to pleasure herself, but if this need wasn’t assuaged soon she’d go mad.
‘Sam.’
Rafaele’s voice was thick and Sam’s heart palpitated. Reluctantly she looked at him and a pulse throbbed between her legs. She clamped her thighs together desperately.
He reached over and took her hand and Sam almost cried out at the sensation. She tried to pull back but he wouldn’t release her.
‘I want you.’
His face was in shadow but she could sense his desperation. It was little comfort. Inevitability rose up inside her. She could resist anything but this declaration. This promise that soon, if she allowed it, he would ease this ache that was inside her, tearing her apart. It transcended even what had just happened.
Helplessly, in a whisper of supplication that she hated, Sam just replied, ‘Yes...’
* * *
Yes.
Rafaele felt primal satisfaction rush through him, hardening his body. He wanted to devour Sam, consume her, brand her. He wanted her for ever.
No!
Rafaele rejected that rogue assertion, which had slid into his mind before he’d even acknowledged it.
He couldn’t let her hand go, though, even when she turned her head away to look out of the window. The rapid rise and fall of her breasts beneath the dress made him curl his other hand to a fist, just to stop himself reaching out to cup their heavy weight.
Sam was clearly aware of the same ramifications as he, of being seen together and how that might be construed. But the thought of her rejecting that suddenly made him want to claim her. In any way that he could. Publicly and in private.
But right now he couldn’t really focus on what that meant. Right now he wanted the physical.
As the car swept gracefully through the palazzo gates anticipation spiked like a fever in his blood. When the car came to a halt he got out and strode around to Sam’s door, helping her out himself. She looked up at him with those huge expressive eyes and desire was hot and urgent inside him—part of the tangled mess of emotions this woman inspired in him on a regular basis.
With one smooth move he picked her up into his arms. Her mouth was tight with a need that resonated within him. He felt like a beast. He couldn’t speak. What he needed right now was not something he could even articulate. It was visceral, physical. Urgent.
* * *
Sam was in Rafaele’s arms and he was striding through the front door of the palazzo. All she could feel was her breasts crushed to the solid wall of his chest and the pulse of awareness between them, like a tangible forcefield of energy.
The house was quiet. He was striding up the stairs now and Sam bit her lip. Rafaele carried her straight into his bedroom. She tensed against the leap of her blood at the promise of satisfaction. A moment of sanity intruded, reminding her of the certain self-recrimination she would face in the aftermath and all the uncertainty about how he felt about her.
Weakly she seized on the first thing she thought of. ‘Wait... Milo...’
Rafaele was putting her down, sliding her along the length of his hard body, one part of which in particular was very hard. He was already pulling down the strap of her dress and her skin tingled.
His voice was rough. ‘Milo is with Bridie, as you well know.’
That sliver of sanity compelled her to try again, even though every part of her protested. ‘Rafaele...’
‘Stop talking, Sam. I want you. You want me. It’s very simple.’
It wasn’t that simple, though, and Sam opened her mouth to protest again. But then Rafaele was kissing her, and pulling the strap of her dress down further, and she felt the rising lust suck her under and weakly...she gave in. She wanted to forget sanity and take this.
Between her legs she was slick and throbbing. She didn’t have a hope of resisting when Rafaele bared one breast and cupped it in his hand, squeezing the plump flesh, his thumb grazing her nipple.
Letting out a soft moan halfway between frustration at her own weakness and excitement at her building desire, Sam wound her arms around Rafaele’s neck and pressed herself against him, trapping his hand on her breast.
Rafaele’s other hand came down and cupped her buttocks, kneading the flesh, making Sam’s hips roll against
