around his shaft as he drove in and out, his breath harsh and fast. Just as she was falling, seemingly never-endingly, Cara felt the shock of another peak approaching. And as Enzo’s movements stopped, and he tensed too, she found herself falling all over again, this time with him, as she felt the power of him burst free within her, his release awe-inspiring.
His weight was deliciously heavy on her. Cara’s legs were wrapped around him, her arms tight around his neck. She never wanted to let him go. The feeling of connection was so intense it was overwhelming. Their hearts hammered in tandem against their chests.
After long moments Enzo finally pulled free. He scooped them onto their sides, Cara against his front, and with an arm heavy around her middle Cara felt herself drift into a deep boneless and bottomless slumber, her arm tight around Enzo’s, holding him to her. For the first time in a long time she felt at peace. As if she’d come home from a long, arduous journey.
Vicenzo came to his senses slowly, and the world righted itself. His frantic heartbeat slowed back to a near normal pace. Reality came harshly, and with swift, painful clarity. He felt the seductive body clasped against him, felt the way his arm was wrapped around her so possessively, and tensed.
Blood roared to his brain at what had just happened—how far off base he’d come. How far off base he’d let her take him, as if he’d had no control over the situation. From the moment he’d met her in the bar and looked into those huge, duplicitous green eyes, flecked with darker tones making her seem mysterious, everything had shifted. One thing he hadn’t bargained on was this: that he’d want her on sight with a hunger that precluded anything else he’d ever felt in his life. It was shaming, shocking and all-consuming.
Acting on pure impulse, guided by something he couldn’t entirely fathom even now, he’d told her he was simply Enzo—had kept hidden his real identity. Her face had entranced him, despite his best intentions to remain unmoved by her: exquisitely pale, with its explosion of freckles making her look so young and innocent.
Vicenzo slammed down on his thoughts as he carefully extricated himself from Cara’s sleeping form. He remembered just moments ago, pulling himself free from her body’s tight clasp. Even that movement had caused a fresh ripple of arousal which he had had to ignore with all his might—especially when she’d moaned softly, as if in protest. Now, though, she didn’t wake.
He forced his thoughts away from the memory of what had just happened with cold ruthlessness. He’d wanted to see what she would do—to see the woman who had spent time with his sister, pretending to be her friend. Would she try to seduce him? His instincts had been proved right, and also the instinct to hold back, not to reveal himself. His justifications comforted him, even as he registered the unwelcome revelation that he hadn’t planned on going this far.
He reminded himself that he’d seen her in action before he’d even met her—draped over that barman when he’d entered the club, only to swiftly turn her attention to him as soon as he’d arrived. She’d just proved herself to be the consummate seducer. Full of innocent little tricks and ploys. For a moment there he’d had the fleetingly ridiculous thought that she might have been a virgin, but she’d quickly quashed that suspicion with her knowing response, taking him with a confidence that could only have been born of experience. He only had to look at how quickly she’d tumbled into his bed, with the merest artful hint of hesitation designed to rouse a man to the point of erotic anticipation.
The bile grew stronger as he sat on the side of the bed before standing up, muscles protesting. Their coming together had been so urgent, so passionate, that he couldn’t remember the last time it had been like that for him—or if ever. And with her, of all people. He stalked to the bathroom, self-disgust mounting along with his anger. He dealt with the protection and turned to look at himself in the mirror, his face rigid with tension.
Cold fury barrelled through him. This would be the sweetest form of revenge after all—because she’d slept with him tonight not knowing who he was, no doubt expecting him to bankroll her exorbitant lifestyle now that her brother was gone.
He told himself that he’d asked her to come to his hotel as a test—not because he’d wanted her with an urgency that bordered on desperation. But he knew that in that moment when she’d stood before him in the cool night air all thoughts of Allegra and what this woman had done had been shamingly forgotten for a precious moment, in the heat of his arousal. His motivations had become blurred. He had to hand it to her. She was good. A less cynical man than himself would have been foolishly duped in a heartbeat by the way she’d come back and breathily offered herself up to him with all the feigned innocence of a novice. As if she didn’t do this all the time.
But he knew better than that. He’d been dealt a harsh lesson at an early age in the selfish, manipulative ways of women. His own mother had dealt him that lesson. And he’d learnt well. Ultimately they looked after themselves, and this was exactly what Cara Brosnan was doing—already feathering her nest, looking for her next meal ticket…
Her brother had coldly seduced his sister with every intention of plundering her wealth and dumping her by the wayside. There was a compelling symmetry to what had just happened; Vicenzo was doing to Cara, something similar to what she and her brother had planned to do to his sister.
The set and cold features of Allegra came back to him. He felt no compunction now, no guilt. He buried all emotion deep inside. He had taken advantage of an intense physical desire. There was no harm in admitting that. Cara was a beautiful woman, after all. And she was well versed in the ways of the world; she was old beyond her years and certainly possessed a knowingness that his sheltered sister had never had. Allegra had been easy pickings for someone as predatory and corrupt as Cormac Brosnan.
Cara might have surprised and bewitched Vicenzo more than he’d expected, but ultimately this was where he wanted her: at his mercy and feeling all the pain it was possible for someone like her to feel. Which he guessed wasn’t much. This was far better than confronting her and trying to make her admit to her guilt. She’d have laughed in his face. A woman who could sleep with a complete stranger the night after burying her own brother was someone Vicenzo could easily despise
He stepped into the shower. After which he went back outside to dress and wait for Cara to wake up.
CHAPTER THREE
CARA felt consciousness return as if from far away. Sensations came back into her body, which felt deliciously heavy and languorous. Strange new aches and pains were present in her muscles, but she amended her first impression: not painful, pleasant. She was relishing waking slowly, and the blissful haze that clouded her brain was like a drug, keeping all painful concerns out. She knew they were there, clamouring for attention, but she wanted to hold them off on the periphery just a bit longer.
She became aware of the fact that she was no longer tucked into Enzo’s body, with his legs and arms wrapped protectively around her. She smiled. She’d had no idea it could be like that. She put out a hand, expecting to feel a big hard body, but the bed was empty beside her. Immediately her eyes flew open and she blinked in the early dawn light coming through the windows. How long had she been asleep?
She sat up and looked to the other side of the room. Enzo was sitting in a chair, watching her in the bed. Cara felt her heart stop and start again in heavy slow thuds. She felt momentarily light headed. She smiled hesitantly, feeling extremely shy.
‘Morning…’
Enzo said nothing, just continued to watch her. Cara frowned and felt a trickle of foreboding slither down her spine. The air in the room felt frosty and she had no idea why.
Her smile faded.
‘Enzo…?’
