‘I met Donatella,’ she said.
‘I wondered if you would. She arrived late.’
‘I don’t give a damn when she arrived!’ She flung her sparkly scarlet clutch bag down onto a brocade sofa where it bounced against a tasselled cushion. ‘She told me you were supposed to be meeting her the night we got stuck in the snow!’
‘That much is true.’
She was so horrified by his easy agreement that Keira could barely choke out her next words. ‘So you were in a sexual relationship with another woman when you seduced me?’
He shook his head. ‘No, I was not. I’d been dating her for a few weeks, but it had never progressed beyond dinner and the occasional trip to the opera.’
‘And you expect me to believe that?’
‘Why wouldn’t you believe it, Keira?’
‘Because...’ She sucked in a deep breath. ‘Because you didn’t strike me as the kind of man who would chastely court a woman like that.’
‘Strangely enough, that’s how I like to operate.’
‘But not with me,’ she said bitterly. ‘Or maybe you just didn’t think I was worth buying dinner for.’
Matteo tensed as he read the hurt and shame which clouded her sapphire eyes and was surprised how bad it made him feel. He knew he owed her an explanation but he sensed that this went deeper than anything he’d had to talk his way out of in the past, and part of him rebelled at having to lay his thoughts open. But he sensed there was no alternative. That despite the ease with which she had fallen into his arms, Keira Ryan was no pushover.
‘Oh, you were worth it, all right,’ he said softly. ‘Just because we didn’t do the conventional thing of having dinner doesn’t change the fact that it was the most unforgettable night of my life.’
‘Don’t tell me lies!’
‘It isn’t a lie, Keira,’ he said simply. ‘It was amazing. We both know that.’
He saw her face working, as if she was struggling to contain her emotions.
‘And then,’ she said, on a gulp, ‘when you got back—she says you didn’t see her again.’
‘Again, true.’
‘Why not?’ she demanded. ‘There was nothing stopping you. Especially after you’d given me the heave-ho.’
If he was surprised by her persistence he didn’t show it and Matteo felt conflicted about how far to go with his answer. Mightn’t it be brutal to explain that he’d been so appalled at his recklessness that night that he’d decided he needed a break from women? If he told her that he’d never had a one-night stand before, because it went against everything he believed in, mightn’t it hurt her more than was necessary? He didn’t believe in love—not for him—but he believed in passion and, in his experience, it was always worth the wait. Deferred gratification increased the appetite and made seduction sweeter. And delaying his own pleasure reinforced his certainty that he was always in control.
Yet his usual fastidiousness had deserted him that snowy night when he’d found himself in bed with his petite driver, and it had affected him long after he’d returned to Italy. It wasn’t an admission he particularly wanted to make but something told him it would work well in his favour if he did. What was it the Americans said? Ah, sì. It would buy him brownie points. ‘I haven’t had sex with anyone since the night I spent with you. Well, until last night,’ he said.
Her eyes widened and the silence of the room was broken only by the loud ticking of the clock before she blurted out a single word.
‘Why?’ she breathed.
He bent to throw an unnecessary log onto the already blazing fire before straightening up to face the dazed disbelief which had darkened her eyes. He had tried convincing himself it had been self-disgust which had made him retreat into his shell when he’d returned to Rome, but deep down he’d known that wasn’t the whole story.
‘Because, annoyingly, I couldn’t seem to shift you from my mind,’ he drawled. ‘And before you start shaking your head like that and telling me I don’t mean it, let me assure you I do.’
‘But why?’ she questioned. ‘I mean, why me?’
He paused long enough to let her know that he’d asked himself the same question. ‘Who knows the subtle alchemy behind these things?’ He shrugged, his gaze roving over her as he drank in the creamy curves of her flesh. ‘Maybe because you were different. Because you spoke to me in a way that people usually don’t. Or maybe because you were a virgin and on some subliminal level I understood that and it appealed to me. Why are you looking at me that way, Keira? You think that kind of thing doesn’t matter? That a man doesn’t feel an incomparable thrill of pleasure to discover that he is the first and the only one? Then you are very wrong.’
Keira felt faint and sank down onto the brocade sofa, next to her discarded clutch bag. His words were shockingly old-fashioned but that didn’t lessen their impact on her, did it? It didn’t stop her from feeling incredibly desired as his black gaze skated over her body and hinted at the things he might like to do to her.
Did her lips open of their own accord or did he somehow orchestrate her reaction from his position by the fireplace—like some puppet master twitching invisible strings? Was that why a hard gleam suddenly entered his eyes as he walked towards her and pulled her to her feet.
‘I think we’re done with talking, don’t you?’ he questioned unsteadily. ‘Haven’t I answered all your questions and told you everything you need to know?’
‘Matteo, I—’
‘I’m going to make love to you again,’ he said, cutting right through her protest. ‘Only this time it’s going to be in a bed and it’s going to be all night long. And please don’t pretend you’re outraged by the idea, when the look on your face says otherwise.’
‘Or maybe you’re just going to do it to pacify me?’ she challenged. ‘Like you did last night.’
‘Last night we were in the middle of a howling storm and I wasn’t really thinking straight, but today I am.’
And with that he lifted her up into his arms and swept her from the room and it occurred to Keira that no way would she have objected to such masterful treatment, even if he had given her the option. Because wasn’t he making her feel like a woman who was completely desired—a woman for whom nothing but pleasure beckoned? Up the curving marble staircase he carried her, her ear pressed closely to his chest so she could hear the thundering of his heart. It felt like something from a film as he kicked the bedroom door shut behind them. Unreal. Just as the excitement coursing through her body felt unreal. Was it wrong to feel this rush of hungry pleasure as Matteo unzipped the scarlet dress and let it fall carelessly onto the silken rug? Or for her to gasp out words of encouragement from lips soon swollen by the pressure of his kiss?
Her bra swiftly followed and she gave a squeal of protesting pleasure as he hooked his fingers into the edges of her panties and ripped them apart and didn’t that thrill her, too? Showing similar disregard for his own clothes, he tore them from his body like a man with the hounds of
