breathe but she didn’t want it to stop, didn’t want the deep pulse of desire inside her to fade away to nothing. She wanted everything, every part of this man.
Between her thighs heat scorched. The hardness of his erection pressed against her made her ever more reckless as she moved her hips, wanting to get even closer, even more intimate. Her body was begging him to make love to her. She’d never experienced anything so powerful. Her ex-fiancé, her only other lover, had never aroused her like this, never made her so wanton, so consumed with desire.
‘Have you any idea what you do to me?’ Marco asked, each word a hoarse, passion-filled whisper.
‘I do now,’ she teased. Who was this woman? Imogen Fraser would never be as seductive and flirty as this. But she wasn’t Imogen Fraser. She was just Imogen and this was her moment. Tomorrow it would end and she had no intention of going home with any what ifs lingering in her mind.
He let her go and moved back a step, running one hand through his hair in a distracted way, which only made her want him more. ‘Imogen—you will be the undoing of me.’
‘I intend to be exactly that,’ she said as she moved towards him, sliding her hands around his neck again and brushing her lips teasingly over his. The feral growl he tried hard to suppress left her in no doubt as to the effect she had on him. He did want her. He wanted her as much as she wanted him.
‘Do you, now?’ He put his arms back round her waist and she wished she’d had the courage to wear a bikini. She wanted to feel his hands on her body. Skin on skin.
‘But first,’ she mercilessly teased him, a big smile on her lips, ‘haven’t you arranged something for us?’
‘I have.’ Marco snatched at the change of subject she unwittingly offered because if he didn’t he was in danger of taking her back to his villa and spending the day exploring the desire between them, which had now reached near explosive heights. Whilst it was very much what he wanted to do, it wasn’t part of his plan to create the ultimate romantic escape on their last night. The pleasure her body promised would have to wait. ‘We are going out on that yacht.’
She turned swiftly and looked to where a sleek white yacht was anchored in the bay, waiting patiently on the sparkling blue water. ‘Now I understand the need for swimwear.’ Her laughter was as infectious as it was captivating.
‘We aren’t just going on the sea—we are going under it. I’ve arranged for us to snorkel over one of the island’s reefs.’
He braced himself for excuses. Any other woman he’d dated in recent years probably wouldn’t paddle in the sea, let alone swim in it. All they’d wanted to do was sunbathe. Tiny bikinis were not for getting wet. Imogen’s red one-piece showcased her sexy curves in a way a bikini couldn’t, making him imagine how it would feel to have her naked body in his bed. Each time he looked at her, taking in every shapely curve, he grew more impatient for the conclusion to this week.
A spike of lust shot through him. He’d never waited this long to have sex with a woman. Imogen was different and, although he had no intention of trying to figure out why, he had every intention of bringing their romantic week, their escape from reality, to the conclusion he’d wanted from the very first moment he’d set eyes on her in that alluring blue dress. Tonight, no matter what, she would be his and the passion and desire he’d held in check all week could finally be set free.
‘Marco, that’s so exciting—thanks.’ Her eyes sparkled like the sea beyond her as she looked up at him, then as if the wind had changed direction she lowered her head and looked down. ‘Nobody has spoilt me like this before.’
A woman like Imogen must have had many admirers, all trying to impress her and win her affection. Her admission shocked him. ‘I find that very hard to believe.’
She looked back up at him. ‘It’s true. I’ve only ever had one relationship. It lasted for over two years, but...’ Her words trailed away, reminding him of the aura of innocence she sometimes portrayed. Had this teasing temptress really only had one lover?
‘Whoever he was, he was a damn fool to let you go.’ The words sprang from him before he had time to think and they were totally out of character. He never gave away his feelings, never said anything to a woman that could be misread as something more. Settling down had never been part of his big plan for life and yet here he was, talking with Imogen as if they shared a secret need to do just that.
‘He didn’t let me go,’ she said, looking up at him, that spark of defiance in her eyes once more. ‘He lost me.’
‘Then his loss is my gain. And being here has enabled me to find you,’ he said softly, brushing her cheek with the backs of his fingers.
‘Yes, our week here has been fun, a real escape, and all I want is to make the most of the last day together.’
A sense of calm slipped over him. She was as good as telling him that once they left the island she wouldn’t be looking for anything else from him. It was everything he had hoped for when he knew he would go home and inevitably throw himself into his work, the same as he always did. Anything to avoid the pleading of his mother to marry and continue the Silviano family name for his father. But this time he knew her secret. He knew the man lying in hospital with a serious heart condition, the man he’d never been able to please, wasn’t his real father. Knowing that and knowing just who his real father was should have made everything easier, but it didn’t. It made things harder than ever.
‘That is exactly what I want,’ he said as he forced his mind back to the present, back to the seduction of Imogen. It would be his last fling. He held her tighter and kissed her lightly once more. ‘What I want is to enjoy our last day together. Our final night.’
* * *
Imogen slipped from the yacht into the crystal-clear waters, trying to push aside Marco’s honesty. He didn’t want anything more after they returned home. He didn’t want to see her again, which was probably just as well, because once he knew she was just an ordinary girl, instead of the wealthy daddy’s girl she’d let him believe she was, he wouldn’t want anything to do with her and she couldn’t stand the rejection of that. She’d had enough rejection recently.
Marco tapped her arm, pointing to a group of brightly coloured fish as they swam over the coral, and she refused to wallow in self-pity. She would take from this moment with Marco as much as she could—and she wanted everything. The passion, the desire. All of it. A shimmer of anticipation washed over her as she recalled his words on the beach: ‘Our final night.’
He wanted to be with her tonight and for one night she wanted nothing more than to be with Marco. Not the hard businessman she’d caught glimpses of all week, but the kind and caring man who’d been so respectful to her, not forcing her to do anything. It had been like the romance of an affair—but now she wanted the passion that went with it. She wanted Marco.
When they returned to the yacht she was determined that she would have the entire dream of being here on the island with Marco. By tomorrow evening the real Imogen Fraser would be back and the carefree woman she’d been this week would be nothing more than a figment of her imagination. A memory to treasure.
‘That was a wonderful experience,’ she said as she ran her fingers through her hair, trying to tame the wet tangle. As she stood on the deck in the sunshine she was aware of Marco watching her, aware of his gaze on her body and all too aware of how her wet one-piece highlighted every curve. She didn’t feel self-conscious, not when he looked at her like that, making her body
