Cesare Gambrelli couldn’t seriously think she would ever—
He did, she realised, as she looked up into his hard, uncompromising face.
She shook her head. ‘I’m sorry. I really had no idea. But it still doesn’t change the fact that your marriage proposal is a preposterous idea—’
‘It was not a marriage proposal, Robin, but a statement of intent,’ Cesare told her, totally unmoved. ‘You will become my wife as soon as the arrangements can be made.’
‘You can’t force me to marry you, Mr Gambrelli,’ she came back defiantly.
‘I thought we had agreed that you would call me Cesare,’ he reminded her.
‘You decided that!’ Robin corrected. ‘And no amount of bullying on your part is going to make me marry you!’ she added determinedly.
Cesare remained impervious to her claim, seeing the two wings of angry colour in her cheeks as she looked across at him.
‘Is it not?’ Cesare’s voice was velvety soft. ‘Oh, but I think it will, Robin,’ he assured her.
She looked up at him uncertainly, her gaze searching the complete implacability of his expression.
His original plan of retribution on the Ingram family had not involved marriage, Cesare admitted, but since meeting Robin almost a week ago he had decided that this was a much more practical solution. Marco would once again have the mother he was so desperately in need of, rather than the nanny who cared for him now. A mother who, as Cesare’s wife, would also provide him with suitable entertainment.
Entertainment Robin Ingram had not seemed to view as so unpalatable a short time ago…
‘Come, Robin,’ he bit out impatiently. ‘Sharing my bed would not be so…unacceptable, would it?’
Sharing his bed. Robin’s panic-stricken thoughts echoed his words desperately.
Minutes ago she’d had only to look at this man to know she wanted him in a way she could never remember feeling before. But it was a desire that had completely deserted her once he’d told her that he intended marrying her out of misplaced revenge!
She had already escaped one marriage, which had been so disastrous she had no desire ever to repeat the experience. Had spent the last year totally avoiding even dating, let alone becoming seriously involved with anyone, knowing she had earned herself the reputation of being frigid and aloof.
Something Cesare Gambrelli’s overt sexuality didn’t even allow for!
She didn’t need to know any more about him to realise that a marriage between herself and Cesare Gambrelli would be even worse than the disaster of her first marriage!
She gave a firm shake of her head. ‘That question doesn’t even merit an answer—What are you doing?’ she gasped as Cesare Gambrelli reached her side in one forceful stride to pull her to her feet and straight into his arms.
‘Well, if you do not know, Robin, then perhaps I had better show you!’ he came back mockingly, before his head lowered and his mouth claimed hers.
She was too surprised initially either to fight or respond to the sudden onslaught—was aware only of a leaping of her pulse rate, of the way her hands moved up to grasp the broadness of his shoulders in order to stop herself falling, of how strong and muscled they were, as was the rest of his leanly hard body as he pulled her in tight against his arousal.
Robin wanted to resist him. Knew she should resist him. That she should push him away, should once again ask him to leave.
But as he moved that hard arousal sensuously against her she felt the return of that moist heat between her thighs, groaning low in her throat as his tongue parted her lips even farther and plunged hard and hot into her mouth in a rhythm that matched his thighs as they moved so seductively against hers.
Her body felt consumed by liquid fire, every part of her alive and responsive to Cesare’s slightest touch. Her nipples were hard and throbbing as he tore his mouth from hers, to lower his head and capture one of those hard peaks though her thin blouse and bra into the burning heat of his mouth, teeth gently biting even as his tongue moved moistly against that sensitive tip. Robin’s spine arched as she sought a release for the spasms of pleasure between her thighs.
So aroused, so lost in that pleasure was she, that she could only stare up at Cesare dazedly when he suddenly raised his head to look down at her triumphantly.
‘No, Robin,’ he mused. ‘I do not think sharing my bed will be unacceptable to you at all!’
His words, the scorn in his tone, made Robin feel as if she’d had a cold shower sprayed over her, so quickly did the heat of her arousal die. She pushed hard against him, almost stumbling as his arms immediately fell from around her and he stepped back to survey her with contemptuous eyes, his triumph at her capitulation more than obvious.
‘You bastard!’ she breathed furiously, her face burning both at her response to him and at his obvious disdain at her response.
‘Probably,’ he accepted unconcernedly. ‘But you will marry me, Robin. And soon, if we do not want the first of our children to be exactly what you have just called me,’ he amended.
Robin felt embarrassed by her response to him seconds ago, angry with Cesare for being able to arouse her so easily, and not a little uncomfortable in her slightly damp blouse. She certainly wasn’t in any sort of mood to put up with this man’s supreme arrogance much longer!
‘I have no intention of marrying you,’ she gritted. ‘Now or in the future!’
‘Oh, but I think you will, Robin,’ he contradicted softly. ‘I think you will marry me very soon. And I think you will do so without any more histrionics.’
Robin looked at him searchingly—at his assured expression, the challenge in his gaze. His self-confidence was such that she sensed she hadn’t yet got all the facts. ‘What is it you haven’t yet told me?’ she finally voiced slowly.
‘Intelligent as well as beautiful,’ Cesare complimented her with a mocking inclination of his head—though he was not as unmoved by what had happened a few minutes ago as he liked to appear.
Robin Ingram really did have the most responsive body—a body that he knew had been on the point of orgasm when he’d decided to release her.
But he did not intend to make love to her in the sitting room of her father’s home. He wanted to be in bed, both of them naked, when he gave Robin that release—wanted to lie and watch her, feel her, touch her as her body spasmed and trembled with pleasure. And then he wanted to lie back again, and watch her, feel her, as she gave him the same pleasure.
‘What have I not yet told you?’ he repeated consideringly, his teeth bared in a wolfish grin. ‘How very astute of you, Robin, to realise I have saved the best until last.’
‘Oh, cut the sarcasm and just get on with it!’ she bit back impatiently.
His grin turned to a genuine smile. ‘Sexual frustration has not improved your temper, I see,’ he observed in amusement.
Her eyes
