one of his front teeth to be absolutely perfect. And yet somehow that made him more real than make believe. Somehow that only worked to make him more perfect. And still he looked so good that logic got spun on its head and she might even imagine for one infinitesimal moment that...
But no.
She brought herself up with a thump. Took a drink of frizzante water to cool her heated senses. There could be no imagining. Not where Luca Barbarigo was concerned.
But there could be tonight.
An entire month of tonights.
Her body hummed as dessert was short-circuited for coffee.
Anticipation built to fever pitch in her veins, as lingering to enjoy the view was short-circuited for the promise of pleasure.
The boats were still darting across the basin like fireflies; most of the tables around them were still full, when Luca had clearly had enough. ‘It’s time,’ he said throatily, and there seemed nothing left to say when the hunger in his eyes told her all she needed to hear.
He guided her through the restaurant, the touch of his hand at her lower back no more than the graze of his fingertips, and yet every part of her body seemed focused on that spot, as if he’d tied a ribbon between them that kept her close.
And this time Luca all but ignored the greetings that were called out to him. He ignored the eye contact that would ensure recognition and guarantee acknowledgement. He stopped not once in his quest to get her out of the restaurant and down the stairs and into the waiting water taxi.
For me , she told herself. He is avoiding them for me, and that knowledge was as empowering as it was intoxicating.
All the more empowering given he had forgiven a debt—a massive debt—for the pleasure of her company.
And a question that had been niggling away at her wanted answering.
What was this all about?
Why her? Sure, her mother owed him a fortune, but surely there were plenty of women who would be prepared to grace Luca’s arm and his bed for however long it took without sacrificing a cent of her mother’s debt. Why did he want her? What was his game?
On the taxi he suggested they stand outside and watch the moving light show along the canal, and he took her hand and led her through to the rear deck. ‘You’re frowning,’ he noticed, wrapping his arms around her as she held onto the rail as the taxi moved away from the dock.
She stiffened a little. ‘Maybe because I don’t understand you.’
She felt him shrug against her back. ‘What’s so hard to understand?’
‘Why you want me.’
‘I’m a man who likes women,’ he said, peeling her away to spin her around to face him. ‘And you are—’ his eyes lowered, raking over her, and they might just as well have been raking hot coals over her skin ‘—unmistakably all woman. Why wouldn’t I want you?’ He leant down closer, his lips drawing closer, and fear the size of a football kicked off in her gut. She turned her head away.
‘Don’t do that. Don’t kiss me.’ People who liked each other kissed. People who were in love.
‘Why not?’
Because kisses were dangerous. You could lose yourself in a kiss, and she didn’t want to be lost with Luca Barbarigo.
‘Because I hate you and I don’t think you particularly like me that much. It just seems false.’
‘And sex doesn’t?’
‘Not when it’s just sex.’
‘Just sex. Is that what you thought we were having last night—just sex?’
‘What would you call it?’
‘Mind-blowing. Earth-shattering. Maybe even some of the best I’ve ever had.’
She gasped, her eyes searching his face for laughter, finding no trace. It had been like that for her...but for him? And whether it was the sudden acceleration of the taxi as it joined the main canal, or because she didn’t want to prevent it, but this time when his mouth came closer—so close that his lips brushed hers—all the air disappeared from her lungs in a rush of heat, leaving a vacuum that could be filled only by him.
He filled that
But no.
She brought herself up with a thump. Took a drink of frizzante water to cool her heated senses. There could be no imagining. Not where Luca Barbarigo was concerned.
But there could be tonight.
An entire month of tonights.
Her body hummed as dessert was short-circuited for coffee.
Anticipation built to fever pitch in her veins, as lingering to enjoy the view was short-circuited for the promise of pleasure.
The boats were still darting across the basin like fireflies; most of the tables around them were still full, when Luca had clearly had enough. ‘It’s time,’ he said throatily, and there seemed nothing left to say when the hunger in his eyes told her all she needed to hear.
He guided her through the restaurant, the touch of his hand at her lower back no more than the graze of his fingertips, and yet every part of her body seemed focused on that spot, as if he’d tied a ribbon between them that kept her close.
And this time Luca all but ignored the greetings that were called out to him. He ignored the eye contact that would ensure recognition and guarantee acknowledgement. He stopped not once in his quest to get her out of the restaurant and down the stairs and into the waiting water taxi.
For me , she told herself. He is avoiding them for me, and that knowledge was as empowering as it was intoxicating.
All the more empowering given he had forgiven a debt—a massive debt—for the pleasure of her company.
And a question that had been niggling away at her wanted answering.
What was this all about?
Why her? Sure, her mother owed him a fortune, but surely there were plenty of women who would be prepared to grace Luca’s arm and his bed for however long it took without sacrificing a cent of her mother’s debt. Why did he want her? What was his game?
On the taxi he suggested they stand outside and watch the moving light show along the canal, and he took her hand and led her through to the rear deck. ‘You’re frowning,’ he noticed, wrapping his arms around her as she held onto the rail as the taxi moved away from the dock.
She stiffened a little. ‘Maybe because I don’t understand you.’
She felt him shrug against her back. ‘What’s so hard to understand?’
‘Why you want me.’
‘I’m a man who likes women,’ he said, peeling her away to spin her around to face him. ‘And you are—’ his eyes lowered, raking over her, and they might just as well have been raking hot coals over her skin ‘—unmistakably all woman. Why wouldn’t I want you?’ He leant down closer, his lips drawing closer, and fear the size of a football kicked off in her gut. She turned her head away.
‘Don’t do that. Don’t kiss me.’ People who liked each other kissed. People who were in love.
‘Why not?’
Because kisses were dangerous. You could lose yourself in a kiss, and she didn’t want to be lost with Luca Barbarigo.
‘Because I hate you and I don’t think you particularly like me that much. It just seems false.’
‘And sex doesn’t?’
‘Not when it’s just sex.’
‘Just sex. Is that what you thought we were having last night—just sex?’
‘What would you call it?’
‘Mind-blowing. Earth-shattering. Maybe even some of the best I’ve ever had.’
She gasped, her eyes searching his face for laughter, finding no trace. It had been like that for her...but for him? And whether it was the sudden acceleration of the taxi as it joined the main canal, or because she didn’t want to prevent it, but this time when his mouth came closer—so close that his lips brushed hers—all the air disappeared from her lungs in a rush of heat, leaving a vacuum that could be filled only by him.
He filled that
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