pressing the doorbell intermittently until she could ignore it no longer. Wiping the tears away, she dragged herself up from the study floor and went down the stairs, clinging to the bannister for support, mentally preparing what she would say to get rid of her unexpected visitor.
Please don’t be my parents. Don’t be my parents. Don’t be my parents.
Bracing herself, she unlocked the door and opened it a crack to peer through.
Certain she must be hallucinating, she pulled the door wider.
Her heart seemed to stop then kick back to life with a roar.
Matteo stood there, shining like an apparition under the brilliance of the moon.
He’d removed his black tie, his white shirt open at the throat, bleakness in his eyes, his jaw clenched, breathing heavily.
Their eyes met.
Neither of them spoke.
Something erupted in her chest, gripping her so tightly her lungs closed.
Time came to a standstill.
There they stood for the longest time, speaking only with their eyes. She read a hundred things in his; variations of pain, misery, anger and something else, something she hadn’t seen since the beat before he’d taken her into his arms for the only kiss they had ever shared seven years ago.
This was the first time she’d seen him alone since that kiss.
She would never forget the look in his eyes from across the marquee when she had said yes to Pieta’s proposal only two hours later. That would be with her until the day she died. The regret at all that had been lost would live in her for ever.
Her foot moved of its own accord as she took the step to him and placed her palm on his warm cheek.
He didn’t react. Not the flicker of a muscle.
Matteo stared into eyes puffy from crying but that shone at him, almost pleading.
All the words he’d prepared melted away.
He couldn’t even remember getting out of his car.
Her trembling hand felt so gentle on his cheek, her warmth penetrating his skin, and all he could do was drink in the face he’d once dreamed of waking up to.
A force too powerful to fight took hold of him, like a fist grabbing his insides and squeezing tightly.
Suddenly he couldn’t remember why he hated her. All thoughts had evaporated. All he could see was her, Natasha, the woman he had taken one look at nearly eight years ago and known his life would never be the same again.
THE WORLD AROUND them blocked itself out and, without a word being said, Matteo crossed the threshold, kicked the door shut behind him and lifted her into his arms.
Their eyes locked together. Her fingers burrowed in the nape of his neck and he carried her up the stairs and into a bedroom. There he laid her on the bed and, his heart hammering in his throat, closed his eyes and brought his lips to hers.
Her taste...
When she parted her lips and his tongue swept into her mouth, the sweet, intoxicating taste he’d never forgotten filled him and from that moment he was lost.
In a frenzy of hands and heady kisses, they stripped each other’s clothes off, items thrown without thought, a desperation to be naked and for their bodies to be flush together. Then he speared her hair with his fingers and crushed her mouth to his, teeth and tongues clashing as if they were trying to peel the other’s skin and climb inside.
There were no thoughts, no words, only this potent madness that had them both in its grip.
He cupped her small perfect breasts then took them into his mouth, her moan of pleasure soaking right into his bloodstream. He ran his hands over her smooth belly and followed it with his tongue before going lower to inhale her musky heat.
He devoured her, not an inch of her creamy skin with the texture of silk left untouched or without his kiss.
Never had he experienced anything like this, this combustible, primal need to taste her, mark her, to imprint himself into her.
To worship her.
Natasha was adrift in a world she’d never been to before, Matteo her anchor, and she clung to him as if he were all that was left to hold onto, dragging her fingers through his hair, touching every bit of smooth skin she could reach with her needy hands. Every touch seared her, every kiss scorched.
His kiss from seven years ago had flicked something on inside her, a heat that had briefly smouldered before the direction of her life had extinguished it. Now he’d switched it back on and it engulfed her, flames licking every part of her, heat burning deep inside her, an ache so acute she didn’t know where the pleasure ended and the pain began. She could cry with the wonder of it all. All those years of living without this...
And it wasn’t enough. She needed more. She needed everything.
As if sensing her thoughts, Matteo snaked his tongue back up her stomach and over her breasts, climbing higher to find her mouth and kiss her with such passion that it sucked the air from her lungs.
His hand found her thigh and pushed it out while she moved the other and wrapped her legs around him.
His erection brushed her folds and she gasped for breath at the weight and hardness of it then gasped again when he pushed his way inside her.
There was no pain, there was too much heat and fire racing through her for that, just a slight discomfort as her body adjusted to this dizzying newness.
And then there was a moment of stillness from Matteo, a pause in the frenzy.
Suddenly terrified he’d sensed or felt something wrong, she grabbed the back of his head and kissed him deeply, hungrily.
And then she forgot to worry, forgot about everything but this moment, this time, and welcomed his lovemaking, the feel of him inside her, the pleasure taking over, taking her higher and higher until the pulsations burst through her and rippled into every part of her being.
As she absorbed these beautiful sensations with wonder, Matteo’s movements quickened, his lips found hers and with a long moan into her mouth, he shuddered before collapsing on her.
For a long time they simply lay there, still saying nothing, the only sound their ragged breaths and the beats of their hearts echoing together through their tightly fused bodies.
Then, as the sensations subsided and the heat that had engulfed them cooled, something else took its place.
Horror.
She heard Matteo swallow into her neck, then his weight shifted and he rolled off her, swung his legs over the bed, and swore, first in his native Italian and then in English.
Coldness chilled her
