Taming the Notorious Sicilian. Michelle Smart

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I believed you felt nothing physically for me, I would walk away now,’ she continued, her voice a murmur. ‘I certainly wouldn’t debase myself any further.’

      ‘How can you be so sure I feel anything for you physically?’

      ‘Just because I’m a virgin doesn’t mean I’m totally naive.’

      In his effort to scare her away, he’d pressed his groin into her back, letting her feel his excitement through the layers of their clothing.

      That particular effort had backfired.

      Hannah had turned it round on him.

      Well, no more.

      Clasping the hand still resting against his cheek, he tugged it away and dropped it. He stepped back, glowering down at her. ‘You think you can spend one night with me and walk away unscathed? Because that isn’t going to happen. Sex isn’t a game, and I’m not a toy that can be played with.’

      For the first time a hint of doubt stole over her face. ‘I never meant it like that,’ she said, her voice low. ‘It’s not just that I’m wildly attracted to you, it’s more than that. I can’t explain it, but when I look at you I see a life full of excitement, of travel, of so much more than I could ever hope to experience. All I want is to reach out and touch it, to experience some of it with you.’

      ‘You think you know me but you don’t. I’m not the man you think. My life is seedy and violent. You should want nothing to do with it.’

      For long, long moments he eyeballed her, waiting for her to drop her eyes. But it didn’t happen—her gaze held his, steady and immovable.

      ‘Prove it.’ She gave a feeble shrug. ‘If you really think you’re so bad for me, then prove it.’

      He almost groaned aloud. ‘It’s not a case of proving it. You need to understand—once your virginity’s gone you will never get it back. It’s lost for ever, and who knows what else you might lose with it.’

      She swallowed but remained steady. ‘There’s nothing else for me to lose. I’m not after a love affair. Francesco, all I want is one night.’

      It was hearing his name—and the meaning she put into it—on her lips that threw him.

      It made him want to find a dragon to slay just to protect her. Yet he knew that the only thing Hannah needed protecting from was herself.

      He reminded himself that he did not need this aggravation. His mind should be focused on the Mayfair deal—the deal that would be the crowning glory in his empire. Hannah had compromised his concentration enough these past few days.

      Maybe if he gave her some of what she wanted his mind could regain its focus without her there, knocking on his thoughts.

      ‘You want proof of who I really am?’ he said roughly. ‘Then that’s what you shall have. I will give you a sample of my life for one weekend.’

      Her eyes sparkled.

      ‘This weekend,’ he continued. ‘You can share a taste of my life and see for yourself why you should keep the hell away from me. By the end of our time together I guarantee you will never want to see my face again, much less waste your virginity on a man like me.’

       CHAPTER FOUR

      HANNAH HAD BEEN twitching her curtains for a good half hour before Francesco pulled up outside her house on an enormous motorbike, the engine making enough racket to wake the whole street.

      It didn’t surprise her in the least that he waited for her to come out to him. Once Francesco had agreed to a weekend together, he had wasted no time in dismissing her by saying, ‘I will collect you at 7:00 a.m. Have your passport ready.’

      He was taking her to Sicily. To his home.

      She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this excited about something. Or as nervous.

      Her very essence tingling with anticipation, she stepped out into the early-morning sun, noticing that at least he had taken his helmet off to greet her.

      ‘Good morning,’ she said, beaming both at him and, with admiration, at the bike. There was something so...manly about the way he straddled it, which, coupled with the cut of his tight leather trousers, sent a shock of warmth right through her. ‘Are we traveling to Sicily on this?’

      He eyed her coldly. ‘Only to the airbase. That’s if you still want to come?’ From the tone of his voice, there was no doubting that he hoped she’d changed her mind.

      If she was honest, since leaving his office six short hours ago, she’d repeatedly asked herself if she was doing the right thing.

      But she hadn’t allowed herself to even consider backing down. Because all she knew for certain was that if she didn’t grab this opportunity with both hands she would regret it for the rest of her life, regardless of the outcome.

      ‘I still want to come,’ she said, almost laughing to see his lips tighten in disapproval. Couldn’t he see, the more he tried to scare her off, the more she knew she was on the right path, that it proved his integrity?

      Francesco desired her.

      The feel of his hardness pressed against her had been the most incredible, intoxicating feeling imaginable. She had never dreamed her body capable of such a reaction, had imagined the thickening of the blood and the low pulsations deep inside were from the realms of fiction. It had only served to increase her desire, to confirm she was following the right path.

      She’d been his for the taking in his office but he had stepped back, unwilling to take advantage. Again.

      Francesco was doing everything in his power to put her off, but she doubted there was anything to be revealed about him that would do that. What, she wondered, had made him so certain he was all bad? Was it because of his blood lineage? Whatever it was, she knew there was good in him—even though he clearly didn’t believe it himself.

      Face thunderous, he reached into the side case and pulled out some leathers and a black helmet. ‘Put these on.’

      She took them from him. ‘Do you want to come in while I change? Your bike will be perfectly safe—all the local hoodlums are tucked up in bed.’

      ‘I will wait here.’

      ‘I have coffee.’

      ‘I will wait.’

      ‘Suit yourself.’

      ‘You have five minutes.’

      In her bedroom, Hannah wrestled herself into the tight leather trousers, and then donned the matching jacket, staggering slightly under the weight of it.

      When she caught sight of her reflection in the full-length mirror she paused. Whoever said leathers were sexy was sorely mistaken—although she’d admit to feeling very Sandra Dee in the trousers.

      Sandra Dee had been a virgin, too.

      Hannah

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