sexual appeal of his! And yet—
‘What do you mean?’ With a determined effort to get out of the danger zone she wriggled away, but he simply placed a strong lean hand on the small of her back and hauled her back again. Her breath was expelled in a gasp at the close contact with his powerful body, and her words were little more than a ragged whisper when she pressed on, with difficulty, ‘You said you wouldn’t be at the party, either.’
Hoisting himself up on one elbow, his eyes gleaming between their fringing of thick dark lashes, he smiled at her before lowering his proud head to take her lush pink mouth with his, stroking with a sensuality that made her whimper and quiver before he imparted, ‘We won’t attend a fake engagement party, my Lily. I want it to be a real one.’ And, as her eyes widened in bewilderment, he said. ‘I’m asking you to marry me.’
CHAPTER EIGHT
LILY stared at him in shock. She opened her mouth to speak but no words came out.
Paolo simply smiled with sheer male complacency as he gently threaded his fingers through her silky-soft hair and positioned her to meet his exact requirements. He lowered his dark head and murmured against the moist softness of her lush pink mouth, ‘You will be my bride, Lily,’ with all the innate self-assurance of the alpha male who always got what he demanded, and for whom pleading or even merely asking nicely was foreign to his dynamic nature.
That type of arrogant domination shouldn’t turn her bones to water and her skin to fire, make her ache to submit, but it did. And, much as she deplored it, there was nothing she could do about it.
With helpless resignation she was excruciatingly aware of the coil of stinging heat deep in the pit of her stomach, the insistently urgent straining of her breasts beneath the thin cotton top she was wearing—aware, to her everlasting shame, that Paolo Venini only had to touch her and she was aroused to such a peak of sexual excitement, of loving and longing, that she forgot everything—who she was, who he was, her common sense and self-respect, everything she valued about herself.
Desperate to get the word no beyond the tight constriction of her throat, all she managed was a quivering moan of instinctive response as he parted her lips with his and began a totally erotic assault on her senses. His tongue plunged into the inner yielding sweetness with raw masculine urgency and his hands slipped beneath the soft fabric of her top, his groan of satisfaction telling her befuddled brain that the discovery she was braless did more than merely please him.
As deft hands pushed her top up, exposing her straining pink-crested breasts to his simmering gaze, Lily made a furious effort to pull herself together, fighting the need to surrender to this man she loved more than she’d thought possible.
Squirming away from him, shaking, her face flushed and troubled, she managed, ‘This is madness!’
At that a slow smile softened his sculpted features, and his golden eyes, hazed over with the smoke of desire, crinkled at the corners as he breathed, ‘If this is madness, then I like it. I like it more than I can say, cara! I can’t get enough of it!’
And he closed her to him again, and this time his kiss was filled with fiery passion, robbing her of breath and sanity. Only when they came up for long-denied air could Lily get out on a shaky gasp, ‘Why would you want to marry when you’ve already told me you hate the idea?’
She pushed self-protectively away from him, privately thanking her guardian angel for allowing her that much strength of mind. And he let her. He had to have some ulterior motive for that insane proposal. She hadn’t a clue what it was, knew only that it had to be cruel, because she was already hurting.
‘Don’t tell me you’ve fallen in love with me!’ she managed unevenly.
And she despised herself for what he must see as the pall of disappointment that covered her expressive features as he took one of her hands and countered, ‘What is falling in love? Just a sanitising phrase to make the basic urge of lust seem more acceptable.’ He trapped her hand with lean bronzed fingers. ‘I freely admit to lust—you turn me on, you make me burn, you touch me on a deeper level than any woman has ever done, cara mia. I know you too are desperate for our lovemaking, the way you respond tells me this, but I also know you are not mistress material. You are sweet and innocent, and I would not demean you by asking you to share my bed without marriage.’
There was unhidden male appreciation in his warm golden gaze now. ‘Therefore, I have changed my mind about marriage. It would not be such a bad thing.’
With one fluid movement he reached for her again and tumbled her back onto the herb-scented grass, that tormenting hand slipping beneath her top to explore her unbearably sensitised breasts, sending a fireball of eroticism scorching through her.
His wickedly sensual mouth was a whisper away from her trembling lips as he murmured urgently, ‘Marriage. Think of it, my Lily. Being able to enjoy your delightful body, giving you pleasure with an easy conscience, caring for you, pleasing Mamma instead of having to present her with a broken engagement at some time in the future.’ His hand was now sliding down to the soft curve of her tummy, making her weak with longing—until he asked on a thickened growl, ‘What could be more convenient?’
Convenient!
For him!
Give Fiora what she wanted, make her happy. Allow him to slake his self-admitted lust until she bored him as, with his track record, she surely must.
And what about me? she wanted to howl, but didn’t. No point in letting him see how deeply he could hurt her. Allowing him to guess that she’d fallen in love with him. Adding several more cubic metres to that already massive ego of his!
His insulting proposal was all about doing his duty by his mother and slaking his newly discovered lust for someone he had termed an innocent. The way he’d talked about bedding her with an easy conscience made her pretty darn sure he’d never had sex with a virgin before.
And how did he know she was a virgin—an ‘innocent’? Was it that obvious? Was she that gauche?
Well, the novelty of bedding a virgin would soon wear off, Lily knew. Tears stung at the backs of her eyes. He had a low boredom threshold. She knew that, too. He would tire of her, as he’d tired of his first wife, and she’d be shuffled off, hidden away, forgotten. Broken?
Not even the short-lived ecstasy of being his novel new wife would compensate for that sort of hurt.
But not for anything would she let him guess at the emotions that were threatening to pull her apart. Give him the smallest hint of how she really felt about him and he’d move in for the kill! And, knowing how weak she was where he was concerned, she’d make a very willing victim!
Taking a deep breath, she called on every last scrap of her will-power and told him, more or less levelly, ‘I won’t marry you, Paolo. I’m flattered. I think. But it’s not going to happen.’
Steeling herself for another determined assault on her senses, she was left bewildered and perhaps, she thought, with more than a little self-disgust, disappointed as he slowly released her.
He was on his feet with enviable ease, his hands thrust deep into the pockets of his cargo pants, his smile frighteningly assured. ‘Then, cara, I have two more days before the party to change your mind. Don’t stay out in the sun too long. Even at this time of year delicate skins can burn.’
Somehow
