Her name was a harsh shout, mingling with her own cry of ecstasy as they reached the peak and fell from it, tumbling into the darkness of oblivion in perfect unison.
Amber had no idea how long it was before the total devastation of her senses started to ease, to ebb away so that she could hear and feel again. She still felt blinded, too numbed to find the energy to open her eyes, to even try to see, and so it was as she lay in total darkness, exhausted, satiated, unable to move, that she felt Guido stir, rolling his heavy body from hers and coming to lie beside her on the bed.
She heard his sigh, deep and satisfied, but blended with a dark thread of rough laughter that pricked at her uncomfortably, sending a quiver of unease right through her body.
‘Never say never,’ Guido muttered softly, his voice still thick with the aftermath of the passion that had shaken him to his core. ‘Oh, cara, cara—never, ever say never.’
CHAPTER EIGHT
THIS was not supposed to have happened.
Guido sighed, low and deep, as he flung his head back against the pillow and closed his eyes again. Raking both hands through his hair, he faced the fact that he had probably just made one of the biggest, most stupid mistakes of his life.
This was damn well not supposed to have happened.
Not here, not now. Not like this. Not yet…
And not, most definitely not, when he was not prepared. When he had no protection with him, and even if he had, would not have had the presence of mind, the control, to even think of using it.
And not just physical protection either.
‘Dannazione…’ The curse and others more violent, much more basic in his own language slipped from him as he looked the facts squarely in the face and acknowledged what a stupid bloody mess he had made of things.
So much for taking things slowly.
So much for waiting and seeing, watching, learning. So much for acting on his thoughts, his intelligence rather than his libido. So much for thinking at all.
At his side, Amber lay, limp with exhaustion, her eyes closed, her limbs splayed over the bed.
Asleep? Dear God, he hoped so. He prayed so.
He needed time to recover; time to get his body and his mind back under control. He needed time to work out just what he’d done by acting without thought, without any consideration of the consequences. Without looking ahead into the future at all.
He needed time to decide just where the hell they went from here.
Forcing his eyes open, he turned his head to one side, looking into Amber’s relaxed face, wondering just what might be going on behind those closed lids.
“I won’t sleep with you!” she had declared so vehemently only a short time before. Not even two hours ago. “I won’t. I’ll never…”
And, “Never say never,” he’d flung back, totally sure of himself—of her. “Never say never.”
Dio! A rush of self-mocking laughter rocked his body and he shook his head in despair at his own foolishness.
So now what did he do?
Staring up at the ceiling, he ruefully reflected on what he had originally planned. How he had meant things to go from the moment he had learned about Amber’s proposed marriage.
It had been Vito who had told him. His younger brother had come back from a business meeting in London in the foulest of moods but when questioned had refused to say exactly why. Instead, and obviously in an effort to distract Guido from his questions, he had announced that Rafe St Clair, a man they knew of only too well, was getting married.
He had had no idea of just how effective his diversionary tactics were.
Guido could still remember—still feel—the remaining embers of the world-rocking combination of shock, disbelief and white-hot rage that had shot through him when his brother had told him of the prospective bride.
‘Her name’s Amber Wellesley,’ Vito had said. ‘Apparently she lives in the same village. Her father was a friend of Rafe’s father but he died before this girl was born.’
Sitting up slightly, Guido looked down into the shuttered face of the woman beside him. Did she know what it had done to him to find out that she was getting married? It had been bad enough when she had declared that she was walking out because he wasn’t what she wanted—he wasn’t good enough for her. She’d met someone else, someone with standing, with a lineage that matched her own.
Hellfire, it was a good thing that he had never, ever told her the truth about his own position, his own wealth. If he had she might have stayed—and he would never have been able to trust her reasoning.
No, he’d told her to go if that was the way she felt. He’d been so savagely furious that he’d damn nearly pushed her out of the door. But in the end, he’d been the one to walk out. At that moment he’d never wanted to see her again.
Besides, he’d been convinced that, given time to calm down, think things through, she’d come back to him. He’d never expected that she would actually go ahead and marry the man she’d left him for. And stopping that marriage had been the main thing on his mind when he’d come to England this time.
After that, he’d planned to take things slowly—check out how the land lay before he made any rash or foolish moves. He was definitely not going to let his libido rush him into things this time.
‘Hah!’
Unable to stay still a moment longer, Guido started to swing his legs off the bed and froze in a moment of total shock.
He had been so out of control, so hot for Amber that he hadn’t even taken his trousers off, for God’s sake! What sort of man was he? What sort of an animal did she turn him into?
He had totally lost control—totally lost his mind. He didn’t like what he became around Amber and that was the truth. What he became was a man who couldn’t think clearly, couldn’t act rationally. And as a man who had prided himself on doing both of those things, he was definitely knocked off balance as a result.
Swallowing down another curse, he sorted out his clothing in a rush, zipping up his trousers and pulling his belt tight with a viciousness that eloquently expressed the way he was feeling, before swinging away to the window and staring down at the hotel grounds, where the evening was now gathering in, turning the sunlight of the day into dusk.
‘Guido?’
The voice—her voice—came from behind him. From the bed where he had thought—hoped—that she lay asleep. His unwary movements must have disturbed her and she was awake, well before he was ready to speak to her.
‘Yes?’
He knew the single word was a bad-tempered snap but didn’t turn to see the effect it had on her. Instead, he kept his back to her, stared determinedly out of the window even though his eyes were so unfocused that he couldn’t see a thing in front of him.
‘What
