But even in spite of that, she felt an overwhelming sense of relief that they were going—because anything was better than trying to maintain a façade that this was like a normal date, when clearly it was anything but. Of having to try to chew her way through a piece of steak, no matter how tender it was, when food was the last thing she wanted right now.
When they got outside she could tell him that the whole thing had been a bad idea and that it had all been a stupid mistake on her part. She should never have asked for this. But at least if she called a halt to it now, she wouldn’t get hurt.
The January air which hit them was bitingly cold and Jessica wished she’d remembered to bring gloves.
‘I think maybe it’s best if we just forget all about tonight,’ she said, pulling her coat tighter around her. ‘I can make my own way home on the Tube.’
His eyes narrowed. ‘Are you crazy?’ he questioned silkily. ‘You think I’m letting you go anywhere without me tonight?’ The limousine purred up to a silent halt beside them and, aware of the paparazzi hanging around, he pulled open the door and quickly pushed her inside.
‘Salvatore,’ she said as he slid onto the back seat beside her and Jessica’s heart began to race. ‘You can’t take me somewhere against my will.’
‘Does protesting and playing the innocent salve your conscience?’ he questioned. ‘Or does it simply turn you on?’
‘That’s unfair. And it’s not true.’
‘No?’
She shook her head. ‘No.’
He tipped her pale face upwards, his thumb beneath her chin. Her grey eyes were smokier tonight, he thought, and her lips gleamed at him enticingly and they were trembling. Very slowly, he lowered his head and drifted his mouth across hers, feeling it shiver and hearing the instinctive little escape of her breath. It was a lingering, unhurried whisper of a kiss, the brush of their lips the only point of contact. She had every opportunity to stop it but she did not.
Salvatore could feel his own desire building. He could sense her impatience, could hear the faint flutter of her hands as she tried to prevent herself from reaching out to touch him. Still he teased her with the merest whisper of a kiss until, with a small cry of her own surrender, Jessica reached up to clasp his face between both her hands.
‘Oh, Salvatore,’ she whispered brokenly. ‘Salvatore.’
He stared deep into her eyes and nodded. ‘Yes, cara. You have proved it to yourself. You want me, and I want you. It is so simple, isn’t it? You are coming home with me,’ he said softly, and thought that he disguised his triumph well.
Jessica stared up into the gleam of his brilliant eyes, her lips parting as he lowered his mouth to kiss her properly this time as the car sped off towards Chelsea.
CHAPTER SEVEN
THE front door closed behind them and Jessica stared at Salvatore, unsure of what to do next—out of her depth in a situation like this and weak and dizzy with the sensations which were sizzling over her skin.
She was vaguely aware that Salvatore’s apartment was enormous and that there was the indefinable scent of luxury in the air, but luxury was the last thing on her mind as she gazed up at the man in front of her, wondering if this could really be happening to her. Her gorgeous boss staring down at her with the unmistakable look of sexual hunger on his face. What on earth did she do next?
Salvatore cupped her face in between both his hands, one thumb brushing against the pulse which fluttered furiously by the paper-thin skin at her temple. ‘You are scared.’
It was an observation rather than a question and it sounded almost gentle. Jessica nodded. ‘A little.’
‘Am I to take it that you don’t do this kind of thing very often?’
She shook her head. ‘Never,’ she whispered, slightly hurt that he should ask. And yet, who could blame him for asking—she hadn’t exactly played hard to get, had she? Hadn’t even stopped to think what she was getting into. ‘Look, Salvatore, maybe this is crazy—’
But she got no further, for he had lowered his lips to brush against hers and his touch was intoxicating.
‘No,’ he murmured, breathing in her perfume. ‘Not crazy at all. Perfetto. Perfect. It will be perfect—believe me, Jessica. Now let us get out of this inhospitable hall and go somewhere where we can be more at ease with one another.’
He laced her fingers with his and led her along a seemingly endless corridor, but inside Jessica’s heart was racing. At ease, he had said, and yet she had never felt so nervous in her life. He was so confident, so sure of his own sexual power to assure her that this would be ‘perfetto’—but didn’t he realise that he was dealing with someone who, while not a complete novice, wasn’t exactly seasoned in the ways of making love?
Should she tell him so? And what could she say—that she was afraid she would disappoint him and was completely out of his league? Like a small, scruffy pony used to transporting schoolchildren round a field who had suddenly dared compete with a long-legged and aristocratic racehorse in the biggest race of the season?
But her throat was frozen as he led her into the biggest bedroom she’d ever seen, and no words of protest came.
She was aware of highly polished floors strewn with beautiful faded rugs in different, muted colours. A silk-covered bed dominated a room which was big enough to accommodate a sofa and a couple of chairs, as well. An arched area led to a large study and she could see big pots crammed with amazing scarlet flowers and dark glossy foliage.
‘Ah, Jessica,’ Salvatore murmured as he drew her into his arms and stroked a tumble of shiny hair from her face. ‘You look as though you are about to be thrown to the lions.’
‘D-do I?’
‘Mmm. Shall I be your lion? Your big, fierce lion?’ his lips whispered to her neck. ‘And shall I eat you up, every little bit of you, cara mia—would you like that?’
‘Salvatore!’ she exclaimed, but now she was trembling.
He smiled as he heard the faint shock in her voice, but deep down Salvatore approved of her lack of sophistication. Her relative innocence and reluctance were a welcome change from the lovers he had known in the past.
Unless it was all an act. A wide-eyed sham to make him ‘respect’ her more.
Pulling her a little closer, Salvatore skated his hands over her breasts and heard her breath quicken. Even if it was a sham—what did it matter? In the end, this was nothing but a temporary pursuit. Something to be enjoyed by both of them—and as long as she was fully aware of the rules, then nobody would get hurt …
He glanced down at her. Tonight she was wearing a purple silk dress with tiny buttons all the way down the front, which he began to undo, one by one.
‘So many buttons! Did you wear this to deliberately tantalise me?’ he teased.
Jessica could barely think, let alone speak, as he began to pop each one open and bare her heated flesh to the cooling wash of air. She had worn it because it was the
