of her feet brushed against his and she gave a little purring murmur as she burrowed closer, her hand closing around him. ‘Ooh, is that for me?’ she asked.
A shudder of desire shot through him like a lightning bolt. He deftly rolled her beneath him, only pausing long enough to get a condom in place before he entered her in a slick deep thrust. ‘Don’t tell me you’re one of those annoying morning people who insist the day begins at dawn.’
She smiled against his lips. ‘You’re a fine one to talk. I barely touched you and you sprang to attention.’
He kissed her deeply, stroking her tongue with his, swallowing her gasps and whimpers, pushing her to the edge before backing off. He did it again and again and again, teasing her with the anticipation of release, making her want him so badly she clawed at his back like a cat.
He relished the power he had over her. He needed to prove to himself that she wanted him more than he wanted her. He had never allowed that power balance to shift. He wasn’t going to start now. He would have a fling with her but it would be physical, not emotional.
He hooked one of her legs over his hip and drove into her relentlessly, deeper and deeper, faster and faster, until she finally threw her head back and gave a primal scream, her body thrashing and bucking wildly beneath his. Then and only then did he let himself fly free in a shattering orgasm that made his spine buckle as if each vertebra had been loosened.
He rolled off her and lay on his back, taking a moment to get his breathing back under control as the afterglow settled over him like warm, healing rays of sunshine.
Lottie circled one of his nipples with her fingertip. ‘Is it always the same for you?’
Lucca kept his eyes closed. ‘Not always.’
She sent her finger anticlockwise this time. ‘What makes it different?’
You make it different. He pushed the thought away, along with her hand, and got up to dispose of the condom. ‘Lots of things.’
‘Like what?’
‘Energy levels, alcohol consumption, jet lag, mood.’ He picked up his trousers, grimaced at the creases and tossed them back on the floor. He turned to see her worrying her bottom lip with her teeth. Something fisted in his chest when he saw the reddened patch of beard rash on her chin. If he had done that to her face what had he done to her with his trying-to-prove-a-point-to-himself lovemaking?
He got his answer when she rose from the bed. She winced as she took her first step but tried to disguise it by turning her back to him as she hunted for her glasses.
‘Lottie?’ He put a hand on her arm and handed her the frames he had taken off the bridge of her cute little nose the night before. ‘Are you sore?’
She put on glasses and a brave smile all at the same time and his gut fisted again. ‘I’m fine.’
He gently tipped up her chin. ‘You’ve got beard rash. I’m sorry.’ He touched her lower lip with his thumb. ‘I should’ve toned it down a bit.’
‘It’s fine … I’ll put some concealer on it.’
He pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head. ‘A warm bath might help. Want me to run you one?’
‘That would be lovely.’
A few minutes later Lucca sat on the edge of the Jacuzzi-size bathtub and watched like an indulgent parent as Lottie played with the soap bubbles. ‘I can’t remember the last time I had a bubble bath,’ she said. ‘I’d forgotten how much fun it is.’ She cupped a handful of bubbles and blew them towards him. ‘It’d be more fun if you were in here with me. There’s heaps of room. I could practically do laps. Why don’t you join me?’
‘You know why.’ He picked up a handful of bubbles and piled them on her tawny head like a crown.
She gave him a shy little smile and then gathered some more bubbles and placed them on the tops of her bent knees, watching with what seemed studious intent as they wobbled there precariously for a moment before sliding down her legs. ‘Do you run bubble baths for your other lovers?’
‘No, but I had a hot tub orgy once.’
She made a business of scooping up two more kneepads of bubbles, positioning them just so. ‘Was it fun?’
Lucca didn’t have to think too long before he answered. ‘Not particularly.’
She looked at him then, her gaze direct. ‘Why do you use sex as an outlet when you’re such a talented artist? Why not put that energy into your drawing and painting instead?’
He got up from the bath’s edge and brushed the suds off his thighs. ‘You shouldn’t stay in too long. You’ll get all wrinkly like a prune.’
She turned in the tub to face him, sending bubbles over the edge of the bath like lava flow. ‘Why are you running away from your talent? Why are you hiding it from everyone?’
‘Talented artists line every street throughout Europe.’ He wiped his hands on a towel and stuffed it back on the rail haphazardly. ‘Didn’t you see some of them the other day outside that restaurant we went to in Nice?’
‘Then why aren’t you out there with them? At least then other people will get to see your work.’
Lucca resorted to his tried and trusty friend—scorn. ‘Oh, yes, I can see that headline. Hotel Chain Heir Touting Amateur Wares on Back Streets of French Riviera. Yeah, that would work.’
‘You don’t believe you’re talented.’ She said it as if it were a total shock to her.
It wasn’t to him.
He knew his limitations. He knew what it took to get a foothold in the art world.
And it wasn’t family money and bedroom charm.
Lucca turned his back on her frowning expression. ‘I’m going to see what’s happening about this crazy quarantine. The manager was supposed to call me an hour ago to update me.’
‘I’ll pose for you.’
He stopped at the bathroom door and turned to look at her. She was standing in a sea of bubbles, her hands cupped across her breasts and her feminine mound like a modern-day version of Sandro Botticelli’s Birth of Venus.
His breath snagged in his throat like a fine cotton shirtsleeve catching on a nail. She was all that he was not: innocence and beauty. Trust and honesty. Decency and integrity. Sweetness and sincerity.
Her gaze challenged his in a little lock that made her eyes look like green sea glass. ‘I want you to draw me, Lucca.’
‘I’ve drawn you.’
‘Not like that.’ Her hands fell from her body to hang by her sides. ‘Like this.’
Lucca let his gaze soak up the sight of her. She had never looked more beautiful than she did right now. How could he not want to draw her? To capture this moment when her body told him a story that only he and she knew. A private sensual tale of two opposites finding something in the other that no one else could ever
