and I’m supposed to forget all about it?’
‘That rather depends on you,’ he told her calmly, his eyes looking more grey than blue in the soft light from the lamp. ‘You can make a big issue out of it if you wish. We could carry on the argument for weeks—if that’s what you really want.’ He finished unbuttoning the shirt to reveal his lightly tanned, muscle-packed chest, and, for the first time since they’d met, Alessandra failed to swoon at the sight of him, she was so mad.
‘Me?’ she spluttered, with indignation. ‘Make a big issue out of it?’
‘Uh-huh.’ Now the trousers had come off, revealing the silken boxer shorts he always wore, which clung to his hard buttocks and always made her realise just how powerfully muscled those long, hair-roughened legs of his were.
She tried, unsuccessfully, to unzip the back of her dress.
‘Here,’ he said smoothly. ‘Let me.’
He always helped her undress and it would have been foolish not to let him, but he slid the zip down with such practised ease that for the first time in her life she almost exploded with rage. ‘I suppose you could unzip a woman’s dress and undo her bra at the same time—even if you were blindfolded!’ she accused hotly.
He stood there and gave her that lazy, mocking smile of his. ‘Is that an invitation?’ he queried softly. ‘Do you want me to try?’
Most men, thought Alessandra resentfully, would have looked ridiculous wearing nothing but a pair of boxer shorts if they still had their socks on. So how come her sexy husband still managed to look good enough to eat?
‘No, I don’t want you to try!’ she raged on. ‘You’ve had more practice at it than almost any man in the world, I should imagine!’
‘Darling—’
‘Don’t you “darling” me!’
His face was suddenly serious. ‘The only practice I’ve had in the last three years—and that has been considerable—has been undressing you, my love.’
Alessandra frowned suspiciously. ‘But you’ve only known me eight months—’
‘Yes,’ he agreed. ‘And married for six of them.’
‘B-but...’ she stuttered, the implication of what he’d just told her hitting her with all the force of a sledgehammer. It was something that she had never dared ask him in the brief courtship before their wedding. She had assumed that up until the time he’d met her he had been sleeping with one of the many women who used to leave long and frankly embarrassing messages on his answering machine.
Why, one of them—a famous cover girl—had actually turned up at his office and begged him not to go through with the marriage, within full earshot of his secretary, who had rather indiscreetly told Alessandra about it afterwards. And you didn’t get that kind of devotion from that kind of stunner if you weren’t physically involved with them, surely?
‘But that means that you were... that you didn’t...’ She fumbled around, searching for a delicate way to say it, but failed. ‘For two whole years?’ she yelled eventually.
‘I think what you’re trying to say—’ he began teasingly.
‘Don’t you dare patronise me!’
He shook his dark head. ‘I wouldn’t dream of patronising you. I was putting into words what you seemed reluctant to—merely confirming that I was celibate for two years before I met you.’
She threw him a look as she slithered out of her black silk dress. She hurled the wretched outfit against the wall and quickly wrapped her towelling robe around her. ‘I don’t believe you!’
He shrugged, a humourless kind of smile curving his mouth as he turned to drop his shorts and socks into the washing basket, so that he stood before her proudly and unashamedly naked. ‘That, of course, is your privilege, Alessandra.’
He said it with the finality of someone who was closing a subject they hadn’t particularly wanted opened in the first place, but Alessandra wasn’t giving up that easily.
‘You must admit it is a little implausible,’ she said.
‘Oh? You think that while you spent the first twenty-four years of your life as a virgin, and so were obviously celibate, it’s impossible for a man to be, too?’
Alessandra picked up her hairbrush and dragged it through her thick, shoulder-length hair which was so darkly brown that in some lights, like now, it looked almost black. ‘Some men, perhaps,’ she said deliberately.
‘But not me?’ he guessed correctly.
She nodded, reluctant to drop the subject, still angry at the ease with which he had seduced her after virtually accusing her of infidelity with Andrew! But also because, she realised, Cameron was speaking much more openly than was usual for him. And, because he was a man who was cautious about showing his true feelings, she wanted him to continue. ‘No, not you,’ she agreed with some defiance.
‘Perhaps you’d care to elaborate?’ he suggested silkily.
Alessandra hugged her robe to her chest, her breasts suddenly tingling beneath the thick cloth—and only because the brute had slid his eyes over them in a proprietorial and caressing stare! ‘Just that you are a man with certain—appetites,’ she began delicately, furious when he threw back his dark head and began to laugh.
‘Certain “appetites”?’ he repeated. ‘Goodness me, Alessandra, what a gloriously archaic turn of phrase! Perhaps you should have termed it “carnal desires”—that’s even more expressive, isn’t it?’
‘Well, if you want me to put it crudely—’
‘Oh, I do. I most certainly do.’
‘You like sex, don’t you, Cameron?’ she told him bluntly. ‘Lots and lots and lots of it!’
‘I don’t just like it,’ he said softly. ‘I love it And so do you, sweetheart. You may have been a late starter, Alessandra, but you sure took to it in a big way. I’ve never met a woman who gets as easily turned on as you do.’
‘And I’ve never met a man who would rip his wife’s clothes off and throw her to the floor and make her...make her...’
‘Tremble ecstatically in his arms?’ he put in with sardonic humour, but then he saw her mouth begin to tremble and he was by her side in an instant, enfolding her in the strong, warm circle of his arms as she began to shake with emotion.
‘Sweetheart, sweetheart,’ he pleaded. ‘Don’t get upset. Please. I shouldn’t have done it. You’re right I’m a brute. A selfish, arrogant and unthinking brute. But I love you.’
‘No, you’re not!’ she raged. ‘And I love you too! I just don’t understand why you...why you...’
He sat down on the bed and gently drew her down beside him. ‘I don’t understand myself,’ he told her softly. ‘You bring out something in me that no woman has ever done before and sometimes I’m not sure that I like it very much.’
He sighed
