in flagrant invitation.
His response was immediate and powerful. Seeming driven by demons he couldn’t control, he gave a moan of despair and drove deeply inside her, again and again, as if trying to outrun the enormity of something he wished he’d never started but hadn’t a hope of stopping.
Finding herself again in unknown territory, Callie tried to respond appropriately to the wild ride she’d initiated. She wasn’t sure what was expected of her, or how it would end, but she was very sure that she didn’t want to disappoint him.
She found, though, that it wasn’t so difficult to match her rhythm to his, or to murmur his name with heartfelt desire. When the tempo of their lovemaking increased, her little cry of pleasure was unpremeditated. When she dug her nails into his shoulders, she did so with unrehearsed joy and a real sense of anticipation.
Then he spoke, his words urgent with command. “Si,” he panted, cupping her bottom and seeming to hold himself on the brink of destruction. “Don’t hold back, tesoro! Let it happen now! Let me feel you come!”
And at that, she froze.
Come? She didn’t have a clue how to come! But she knew she was supposed to, and she knew if she didn’t that she’d disappoint him after all, and she’d seen enough movies to have some idea of what orgasm was all about, and what did one more little deception matter at this stage of the game? So she thrashed her head from side to side, jiggled convulsively up and down on the bench, and uttered a long-drawn-out, breathy, When Harry Met Sally kind of “Ooh! Ooh, Paolo, yes!”
It seemed to work because, after a brief, disbelieving pause, Paolo tensed, shuddered violently, then collapsed on top of her, his chest heaving.
It was over. She’d survived her ordeal by fire and emerged relatively unscathed—or so she believed until he pulled away from her, and drawled, “We’ll take a rest, then try that again, Caroline. And the next time, you will come.”
She wished the earth would open up and swallow her. But by then too deep into a charade entirely of her own making to escape, she continued the lie. “I don’t know what you mean, Paolo.”
“No,” he said, disgust and amusement layering his voice. “I’m well aware of that. But it will be my pleasure to educate you in the fine art of true sexual completion. And when I am done with you, cara, you’ll never again have to pretend to come—at least, not when you’re with me.”
“You’re looking more ghastly by the minute, Caroline. Decidedly unwell, in fact. Are you feeling airsick? If so, I can have the steward bring you something to ease your discomfort.”
The past had roared back to haunt her so vividly that it took a moment for Callie to resurface in the present, and realize the man observing her with mild concern now was the same man who’d humiliated her so thoroughly nine years before.
“No,” she said, sipping her water to settle her queasy stomach. He, and not the jet, was the one making her feel ill. “I’m perfectly fine.”
“And I’m hardly convinced! Did I perhaps strike a nerve? Nudge your conscience a little?”
How complacent he was, lounging carelessly on the settee next to her. How insufferably sure he wielded the upper hand.
“You reminded me how callous you are,” she said. “I can’t believe I’d forgotten.”
“Callous?”
“That’s right. Only a complete cad would hark back to one insignificant night buried in the past, when his brother and sister-in-law have been recently killed and left two children orphans.”
“Hardly orphans, Caroline,” he replied, not the least put out by her comment. “The children have grandparents and an uncle who care deeply about them.”
“They have an aunt, too. And I care every bit as deeply about them as do you or your parents.”
“Yes?” He stroked his jaw idly, and shot her a glance halfhidden beneath his thick, black eyelashes. “Unless I’m mistaken—and I seldom am, by the way—we’ve already had this discussion, not two days past. For reasons which defy explanation, you chose to be nothing more than an aunt-in-name-only to the twins, which makes your professed deep attachment to them rather difficult to swallow.”
So here it comes, Callie thought. At last we’re getting down to the real heart of the matter.
Somehow controlling her voice so as not to betray the apprehension rippling through her, she said, “I’d find that remark offensive, if it weren’t so ludicrous. As it is, your arrogant assumption is nothing short of laughable. You have no idea what kind of connection I feel for those two children.”
He shrugged, an elegant, carelessly dismissive gesture. “I repeat, it is hard to imagine you feel any connection at all, considering how little time you’ve spent with them.”
“We lived half a world apart. Not exactly ideal for dropping by whenever the mood takes you.”
He indicated the plush leather upholstery in the aircraft cabin, the fine crystal and china on the mahogany table, the monogrammed linen napkins. “Thanks to advances in aerospace engineering, not to mention comfort, the world grows smaller every day, Caroline.”
“I lead a very busy life, and so did my sister.”
“Indeed, yes.” He nodded. “She traveled widely with my brother. He was heavily involved in the family automobile business, particularly as it pertained to our foreign dealerships.”
“I know that. Vanessa and I kept in close touch, even if we didn’t see each other often.”
“Then you must also be aware that once Clemente and Gina started school, they weren’t always free to accompany their parents. They stayed, instead, with their grandparents.”
“And your point is?” Although she tossed the question at him nonchalantly enough, Callie sensed where the conversation was leading, and another ominous chill ran up her spine.
“That my mother and father have invested a great deal of time and effort in the wellbeing of their grandchildren.” Leaning forward, he leveled a telling stare her way. “And that, in case you’re wondering, is the real reason I chose to meet you in Paris. Because if you harbor any notion that you’re going to disrupt the status quo, I intend to disabuse you of the idea before we touch down in Rome. I will not have my parents made any more upset than they already are.”
Unfortunately that would probably be unavoidable, but Callie decided now was not a good time to tell him so. Instead, choosing her words carefully, she said, “I don’t take pleasure in inflicting unnecessary pain on anyone, Paolo. It’s not my style.”
“My father will be particularly glad to hear it. My mother is suffering enough. He won’t tolerate you, or anyone else, adding to her misery.”
Ah, yes! The refined, reserved, decidedly suspicious Signor Salvatore Rainero thought all he had to do was snap his fingers and the rest of the world would gladly leap to accommodate his wishes.
Well, Ermanno hadn’t, and nor was Callie about to do so. Not that she relished heaping more grief on the Raineros who were unquestionably suffering greatly, but they weren’t
