breath fanned her cheek and she shivered, feeling the press of his long, powerful thighs and the hard, thrusting fullness at his groin against her stomach. Her whole body seemed to overheat at that point of contact. He was aroused and she had made him that way...she, Jemima Barber, without cosmetic witchery or fancy clothes. Who would ever have believed it? She felt like a real woman for the first time since Steven’s betrayal. She didn’t understand what possible appeal she could have for Luciano Vitale, but she didn’t much care during that instant of exhilaration. As he lowered his head a little more and his lips brushed whisper soft across hers, it felt like her moment and it felt crazily like something she had been waiting for all her life.
Long fingers laced into her hair to hold her steady and the pressure deepened. She opened her mouth and he took immediate advantage with a dominance that thrilled rather than annoyed. His tongue darted into the moist interior and tangled with hers and she kissed him back with an eagerness she couldn’t suppress. Her body took flight on new sensation, excitement rising like a tide inside her, drowning out every objecting voice in the back of her head. Every inch of her was suddenly tender and supersensitive, so that firm brush of his hand across her covered breasts made her straining nipples prickle in reaction and the trail of his fingers up her thigh as he lifted her skirt set her on fire with tingling impatience and longing. That passionate kiss held her utterly spellbound, her senses excited beyond bearing, and the throb of awakening between her thighs was almost unbearable in its intensity.
He stroked a fingertip across the tight triangle of fabric stretched between her legs and her knees turned to water. ‘You’re wet,’ he told her thickly.
She couldn’t breathe for shock at the tiny tremors of response quivering through her while the heat at the heart of her stoked higher. She had never in her life before wanted to be touched so badly and she was ashamed of the desire until his hungry mouth found hers again with bruising force and all thought fled in the same instant. One kiss and he dragged her under again while his skilled fingers strummed beneath her panties and stoked the hunger higher, sliding into the moist cleft and caressing the slick tissue before returning to the tiny bud that controlled her entire being.
She trembled and a strangled moan was wrenched from low in her throat as he rubbed her tormentingly sensitive flesh and suddenly her body was racing out of her control and she was jerking helplessly and gasping mindlessly beneath his mouth in a sudden explosive climax that blew her away. Her legs gave way and she would have fallen had he not lifted her and settled her down on the nearest seat.
Limp and shaking, she wrenched her rucked skirt down in a desperate movement. Shock was blasting through her and her heart was still racing. She couldn’t believe what had just happened. She couldn’t believe that she had let him do that to her...something so intimate, so inappropriate, so wanton...
‘You were ready for that,’ Luciano purred, staring down at her with smouldering dark golden eyes. ‘You’re a passionate woman.’
But Jemima had never been a passionate woman. Steven had told her that passion was for sluts and she had always been careful not to seem too keen in that line because that had seemed to be what he expected from her. When he had plunged into a wild fling with Julie she had been shattered at how quickly he had changed his attitude. Luciano, however, wanted that passion, thrived on it, she sensed in confusion, forcing herself to look at him, her face hot and flushed, her sated body still somehow feeling like a wanton stranger’s.
‘Let’s not...talk about it,’ she mumbled unsteadily.
‘Let’s not... I prefer to do rather than talk,’ Luciano murmured, wondering why she was still acting so oddly. Touching her had been a mistake. He wanted more. Given the smallest encouragement he would have dragged her off to bed and eased the burn of his libido. He didn’t want to wait. He wasn’t used to waiting but he was suddenly very conscious of who she was. His son’s mother. It would be most unwise to rock the boat before they reached the security of his Sicilian home, Castello del Drogo.
‘It shouldn’t have happened,’ Jemima breathed tightly, rising from her seat and snatching up her bag. ‘I don’t know how it did—’
Luciano was not amused. ‘It’s simple. I wanted you. You wanted me—’
‘I forgot where I was and who I was with for a moment,’ Jemima corrected stiffly, still carefully evading his eyes. ‘I was out of control.’
‘I liked it.’ Luciano could not understand why she was in retreat. With his knowledge of her, she should have been making the most of the situation and trying to please him. And he was very much in the mood to be pleased.
‘You were talking about Sicily and...er...settling bills,’ she reminded him stonily.
Ah, business first. He perfectly understood her change of focus. ‘I will take care of them. You will have to sign a confidentiality agreement first. You will not be free to talk to anyone, and that includes the media, about the surrogacy agreement or about me or my son,’ he informed her with forbidding cool.
‘That’s not a problem. I’ll go and see if Nicky is awake yet. It’ll be time for us to leave soon,’ she said with scarcely concealed eagerness as she checked her watch.
Luciano stood watching the door swing shut on her exit. A black winged brow quirked. Was it some sort of a game she played with men? Give a little and then back off? Some men would want her all the more after that type of will-she-won’t-she uncertainty. But Luciano was in no doubt that she would ultimately share his bed and her withdrawal irritated him. He hardened even more at the prospect of spreading those soft, rounded thighs and plunging between them until he had attained his pleasure. One night would probably be enough, he decided with a dark smile. He wanted her horizontal. For that single night he wanted her every which way up he could have her. That would work her back out of his system and possibly by that stage he would grasp what had attracted him in the first place.
At least there would be no complications with Jemima, he reflected as he phoned his housekeeper to make household arrangements. Never mind Jemima’s little ploys, she knew the score. He would reward her richly for sex, for sharing physical pleasure without emotion or strings, and she would be quite happy to walk away again.
* * *
‘I’m a close friend of Jemima’s and her family,’ Steven Warrington declared smugly as he walked into Luciano’s office. ‘And with respect, I’d like to know why you think it’s necessary for her to accompany you and your child to Sicily.’
Luciano surveyed the smaller blond man with shrewd, unimpressed eyes. ‘That’s my personal business, Mr Warrington. But I see no reason not to tell you that my son is attached to Jemima and I’d like to minimise his sorrow when she moves on.’
‘Taking Jemima to Sicily with you seems a strange way of letting her move on,’ Steven opined with another smile. ‘I’d prefer it if you simply removed your son now and left Jemima to get on with her life unencumbered.’
‘Happily your opinion doesn’t count,’ Luciano fielded.
‘It soon will. She’s the woman I intend to marry.’
Luciano almost rolled his eyes at the idea of Jemima, with her decided preference for the wilder side of life, anchored by a wedding ring to the highly conservative male in front of him, but his lean, dark features remained unrevealing. ‘Congratulations,’ he responded smoothly.
The information he had already requested on Steven Warrington was finally rolling up on Luciano’s computer screen as the younger man departed. Had Luciano the patience, he would have received
