clothes. We'll go upstairs, Giovanni. Bring the food and the wine and we'll finish our dinner there.'
'
Si, signore
.' The manservant was doing his utmost to look impassive. 'A wine glass has been broken, one that you valued.'
'My own clumsiness was at fault.' Rome shrugged. 'Stop pulling faces, Julia. You have many changes of dress upstairs.'
'Ugh!' She was trying to hold the heavy wetness of the velvet away from her legs, and with an abrupt laugh Rome lifted her into his arms and carried her from the
terrazza
.
'Damn you!' She punched his shoulder in a flash of temper and a residue of fright. 'Did you have to throw half the water over me? I bet you did it on purpose!'
'I had to act quickly,
cara
. You could have been burned.'
'It was your fault,' she said stormily.
'You were the one who started the contretemps. You set out to annoy me and you know it, Julia.'
Up the stairs he strode with her, carrying her as effortlessly as if she were a small girl instead of a grown woman. In striking his shoulder she had felt the smooth hardness of the muscle, a Latin of innate toughness who had probably learned how to fight at one of the East Side gymnasiums; who could probably swim like a fish and play a hard game of baseball.
In every sort of way their lives had been different, and yet here they were together… they were man and wife, and the full impact struck at Julia as he lowered her to her feet in the bedroom he had every right to share with her.
She felt the invasive fear and shyness as she looked at him, so big and dark in the silvery bedroom, his black hair disordered on his brow and a slight quirk to his mouth.
'Come, you must change out of this damp dress before you catch a chill.' His fingers touched the clasp of the jewelled belt and she backed away from him.
'I—I can manage, thank you.' Julia waited for him to turn his back, but he obviously had no such intention and with a flushed face and a resentful nervousness she unclasped the belt and sought with a shaky hand the zip fastening at the back of the dress.
'Let me do that.' He came behind her and right down her backbone she was aware of his bigness as he slid open the zip until the velvet loosened around her. He gave it a push and it fell around her ankles and she was vulnerably exposed for his eyes in her satin slip. It was damp as well and would have to come off, and even as she gave a tormented little shiver he pulled the straps off her shoulders so the garment also slid to her feet. Now she stood there in only her bra and panties, feeling the heavy beat of her heart as he deliberately turned her to face him, his hands warm upon the smooth skin of her upper arms.
'I'm your husband,' he said softly. 'You mustn't be shy of me,
cara
. I have the right to see you like this.'
'I—I want my robe.' She tried to pull away from him, but she hadn't a fraction of his strength and could only gasp helplessly when he drew her against him and buried his warm lips against her neck.
'
Come e bella
,' he murmured. 'You can't know how sweet and soft and inviting you are! I want you—'
'No—please!' She struggled in his arms. 'Giovanni will be arriving any minute w-with our dinner—'
'I'm hungry for you,
carissima
. I want to take you to bed —I want the scent of you, the feel of your hair, those throbbing little cries—ah, it was good—you know it was good!'
'It was bad—hateful,' she breathed. 'You made me—'
'Yes, I made you, but tonight will be different. You won't fight me so I have to hurt you, you will relax and let me love your sweet silky—ah, God, don't shake like that, as if I'm some ugly monster who has hold of you!'
'You're ugly to me—'
'
Santo Dio
!' He thrust her away so she stumbled. His eyes blazed in his tense face. 'If I were Naples born I'd slap your face and throw you on that bed. I'd really show you what it's like to be forced—when that happens, my dear, there are no preliminaries but plenty of pain. Do you want that? Will that
'
Si, signore
.' The manservant was doing his utmost to look impassive. 'A wine glass has been broken, one that you valued.'
'My own clumsiness was at fault.' Rome shrugged. 'Stop pulling faces, Julia. You have many changes of dress upstairs.'
'Ugh!' She was trying to hold the heavy wetness of the velvet away from her legs, and with an abrupt laugh Rome lifted her into his arms and carried her from the
terrazza
.
'Damn you!' She punched his shoulder in a flash of temper and a residue of fright. 'Did you have to throw half the water over me? I bet you did it on purpose!'
'I had to act quickly,
cara
. You could have been burned.'
'It was your fault,' she said stormily.
'You were the one who started the contretemps. You set out to annoy me and you know it, Julia.'
Up the stairs he strode with her, carrying her as effortlessly as if she were a small girl instead of a grown woman. In striking his shoulder she had felt the smooth hardness of the muscle, a Latin of innate toughness who had probably learned how to fight at one of the East Side gymnasiums; who could probably swim like a fish and play a hard game of baseball.
In every sort of way their lives had been different, and yet here they were together… they were man and wife, and the full impact struck at Julia as he lowered her to her feet in the bedroom he had every right to share with her.
She felt the invasive fear and shyness as she looked at him, so big and dark in the silvery bedroom, his black hair disordered on his brow and a slight quirk to his mouth.
'Come, you must change out of this damp dress before you catch a chill.' His fingers touched the clasp of the jewelled belt and she backed away from him.
'I—I can manage, thank you.' Julia waited for him to turn his back, but he obviously had no such intention and with a flushed face and a resentful nervousness she unclasped the belt and sought with a shaky hand the zip fastening at the back of the dress.
'Let me do that.' He came behind her and right down her backbone she was aware of his bigness as he slid open the zip until the velvet loosened around her. He gave it a push and it fell around her ankles and she was vulnerably exposed for his eyes in her satin slip. It was damp as well and would have to come off, and even as she gave a tormented little shiver he pulled the straps off her shoulders so the garment also slid to her feet. Now she stood there in only her bra and panties, feeling the heavy beat of her heart as he deliberately turned her to face him, his hands warm upon the smooth skin of her upper arms.
'I'm your husband,' he said softly. 'You mustn't be shy of me,
cara
. I have the right to see you like this.'
'I—I want my robe.' She tried to pull away from him, but she hadn't a fraction of his strength and could only gasp helplessly when he drew her against him and buried his warm lips against her neck.
'
Come e bella
,' he murmured. 'You can't know how sweet and soft and inviting you are! I want you—'
'No—please!' She struggled in his arms. 'Giovanni will be arriving any minute w-with our dinner—'
'I'm hungry for you,
carissima
. I want to take you to bed —I want the scent of you, the feel of your hair, those throbbing little cries—ah, it was good—you know it was good!'
'It was bad—hateful,' she breathed. 'You made me—'
'Yes, I made you, but tonight will be different. You won't fight me so I have to hurt you, you will relax and let me love your sweet silky—ah, God, don't shake like that, as if I'm some ugly monster who has hold of you!'
'You're ugly to me—'
'
Santo Dio
!' He thrust her away so she stumbled. His eyes blazed in his tense face. 'If I were Naples born I'd slap your face and throw you on that bed. I'd really show you what it's like to be forced—when that happens, my dear, there are no preliminaries but plenty of pain. Do you want that? Will that
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