perfection before I start choking on it.”
Grooves bracketed his serious mouth as he burst into laughter. With his hair falling onto his forehead, his stunning features bathed in sunlight, he looked like one of those warriors that could have conquered the Parthenon.
“All-rounded macho perfection?” he said, color bleeding into those sculpted cheeks.
Narrowing her eyes, Clio stepped toward him. “Let me look at you,” she mumbled, laughter bubbling up inside her. He shielded his face with his forearm and she pulled it down.
“Oh. My. God. You’re blushing.” She lifted her camera and clicked close-ups of him and he tried to grab it from her. Pushing back at his chest with one hand, which was like an impenetrable wall, she clicked some more.
She swung the camera away from him, still laughing. “There’s my fortune. Women of the world are going to be crazy for it. A shot of arrogant Sicilian Stefan Bianco doing something as mundane and human as blushing.”
A vein flickered in his temple, his mouth tight with laughter. “Stop it, bella.”
“Oh, come on. Like you don’t know your own appeal. Why do you think that model went nuts over you dumping her?”
“The regular gifts she was ordering for herself from Tiffany’s? The champagne and caviar and the trips to Paris and London and Hong Kong aboard my private jet? The modeling contracts she was getting offered by networking through me?”
The camera dangling from her raised hand, Clio went still.
He had become so cynical, she remembered Christian saying a few years after they had left Columbia. But to see that hardness become such an intrinsic part of him that he filtered everything in the world through that, it was such a sharp contrast to the man she had known.
Did he think there was nothing about him, the true him, that would appeal to a genuine woman? Or had he made it true by burying everything that had been so intrinsically good about him?
“You don’t believe that of all of them, do you, Stefan?”
“Of course not. Let’s not forget my masculine prowess,” he added with a wink that in no way belied the cold truth in his eyes.
Clio rolled her eyes and swatted his forearm, hiding the shiver that went through her.
“I’ll reduce my awesomeness into little doses for you, sì?” His English favored a stronger accent just then. “I know that you’re going all...fluttery inside—” he moved his hand in front of himself, encompassing his lean frame “—at the thought of having me all to yourself.”
More laughter spilled from her mouth as forgotten memories of him making a play for her at Columbia during that first year rushed forth. His attentions were almost a knee-jerk response to any moderately attractive woman.
Oh, she had had so much fun cutting him down to size every time he had tried it during that first year. Had missed the chance to put him down after he had fallen in love with Serena, though.
“Okay, that’s it, Bianco. You need to be pegged down a bit.”
His hands on his hips, his lush lower lip jutting out, he stared her down. “And you’re the woman for it, Norwood?”
Tingles swept through her at his open challenge, mocking as it was. “Of course I am. If not for me cutting you down to size, you would have grown a second head back when we were at uni.”
He grinned. “I do have a second head—”
Blushing and laughing, Clio clapped her hand over his mouth. Sharp teeth dug into the heel of her palm and she squealed.
Her tummy felt tight and achy, and tears ran down her face as he chased her and she ran, both of them hurling long forgotten challenges at each other.
How long had it been since she had laughed like this?
He had just caught her when they heard the whir of rotor blades.
The sound fractured the moment so effectively that she flinched. Instantly, Stefan pulled her behind him. Shocked at how low the chopper was flying and the long-range camera directed toward the terrace, Clio clutched Stefan’s shirt and hid her face in his muscled back.
A pithy curse fell from his mouth.
“Is this all so that they can have a story on Alessandra?” she asked, remembering the scandal that had haunted Rocco’s sister.
“Yes. But they won’t get anything on her as long as I have something to say about it.”
Her heart raced as the muscles of his back tensed under her fingers. “How? Even you can’t sprout wings and block the chopper.”
His arm shot out and pulled her forward. Tripping against her own feet, she fell onto Stefan. And jerked at the sudden male heat that surrounded her. His arm around her waist was like a muscular rope she couldn’t pry off her.
Warmth crawled up all over her body, the scent of him swirling around her, binding her to him.
“No, I can’t sprout wings, bella.” Slumberous heat came alive in his gaze. “But I have a beautiful woman next to me and I can give the hounds a juicier piece of meat first. By the time they’re through with us, Christian will have his own security armed and Alessandra protected from the worst of it.”
Realizing too late what he intended, Clio pushed away from his chest. “No, Stefan. There has to be another way.”
But he was as solid and impenetrable as the walls of the Parthenon. He clasped her face with his palms, and tilted it up toward him.
“Look at me, bella. Pretend like you can’t get enough of me.”
She didn’t have to pretend. The errant thought stole through her, inciting a panic. She didn’t have to pretend that she was already flailing, falling into the haze he cast over her senses with ease.
She struggled again and their legs tangled, the tensile, hard muscles of his thighs rubbing against hers.
The sound of his jagged exhale settled over her skin, while the whir of the rotor blades of the chopper above felt like a death knell.
Her breath left Clio in a dizzying whoosh, every inch of her thrumming and pulsing. “Wait...I...”
Words melted away from Clio’s lips as the pad of his thumb moved over her chin, traced the curve of her lower lip. “It’s just one kiss, bella. If you flinch every time I lay a finger on you, no one’s going to buy it, Clio. Least of all Jackson.”
Her breath hitched like a balloon inside her, crushing her chest with a weight she couldn’t bear... The last thing she wanted was a kiss and that, too, from the man who could so easily shred the small part of her that was still intact.
But the reminder didn’t work quite as well as it should have.
Because when he dipped his head and touched her lips, Clio felt her own walls tremble and quake, her skin burn with need and fire, felt the shudder that racked his wide, solid frame.
