felt the contraction as if his long, strong fingers had surrounded my heart.
‘The usual reasons,’ he said. ‘Pride. Stubbornness. Regret that I’d screwed up yet another relationship so why bother trying to salvage it. Stupid reasons.’
What was he saying? That he had loved me after all?
I could feel my resolve slipping like a silk wrap sliding off a bare shoulder. But then I pulled myself up short. So what if we were communicating now? As far as I was concerned it was too little, too late. I wasn’t handing out second chances. No way.
‘Careful, Alessandro,’ I said, with a return to my mother tongue: sarcasm. ‘You might fool me into thinking you were really in love with me back then.’
There was another beat or two of telling silence. A pulsing, simmering silence that made the air tighten.
‘Why haven’t you had a date in years?’ he asked.
I decided I was going to kill my father when I got home. I had it all planned. I would force-feed him my steak. I’d pump him full of chocolate and ice cream and frozen yoghurt. I would stuff a loaf of white bread down his throat. I would tie my mother up and make her watch. It would be death by a thousand processed calories.
‘I told you the other day. I’m a career girl. I don’t have time for a full-time relationship.’
‘What about a fling? Had any of those?’
‘Not recently—but, hey, if a guy comes along and offers me five million quid to open my legs I’ll do it. No problem.’
He threw me a hardened glance. ‘Don’t play the cheap hooker with me, Jem.’
I raised my brows in an exaggerated fashion. ‘Cheap? At five million? You could get a blow job around here for two hundred pounds.’
‘And you know that how ?’ he asked, with a distinct curl of his lip.
I wasn’t sure what demon was riding on my back, but I wanted to push Alessandro into expressing some of the anger I could feel brooding in him. Or maybe it was my own anger I wanted to unleash. God knew I had enough of it.
How dared he tell me he had regrets over the way he’d handled things? I’d spent the last five years trying to forget him. How dared he waltz back into my life and apologise? To communicate , for pity’s sake? It was too late.
‘I’ve slept with men for money,’ I said. ‘Isn’t that what a girl does when a guy pays for dinner?’
His jaw locked so tightly I heard his molars grind together. ‘I know what you’re doing.’
I glided a fingertip from the top of hisshoulder down to his thigh. ‘What am I doing, big guy?’ I said in a smoky whisper.
He sucked in air through his nostrils. ‘Stop it. I’m driving.’
‘What if I don’t want to stop?’ I sent my fingertip closer to the swollen heat of him, tracing over the tented fabric of his trousers.
To tell you the truth I was a little shocked at myself, but I couldn’t seem to stop my wanton come-and-get-me behaviour. I was relishing in the rush of power it gave me. So far he had been the one with all the power. Now it was my turn to show him he had more than met his match.
He let out a muttered curse and turned the car into a side street so quickly I was thrown back against the seat.
But I wasn’t there for long.
The engine hadn’t even died when Alessandro’s strong arms pulled me towards him and his mouth came crashing down on mine.
CHAPTER SIX
H IS MOUTH TASTED of mint and anger and lust and longing. The same intense longing I could feel throbbing through my own veins. His lips moved over mine with devastating expertise, demanding I open to him with a bold stab of his tongue.
I had recklessly taunted the tiger and now I was experiencing the full force of his reaction. And, quite frankly, I was loving every pulse-racing second of it.
I received him with a sound of approval that came from somewhere deep inside me. I wound my arms around his neck, fisting my hands into the thickness of his hair, and kissed him back with all the pent-up passion that had been lying in hibernation
‘The usual reasons,’ he said. ‘Pride. Stubbornness. Regret that I’d screwed up yet another relationship so why bother trying to salvage it. Stupid reasons.’
What was he saying? That he had loved me after all?
I could feel my resolve slipping like a silk wrap sliding off a bare shoulder. But then I pulled myself up short. So what if we were communicating now? As far as I was concerned it was too little, too late. I wasn’t handing out second chances. No way.
‘Careful, Alessandro,’ I said, with a return to my mother tongue: sarcasm. ‘You might fool me into thinking you were really in love with me back then.’
There was another beat or two of telling silence. A pulsing, simmering silence that made the air tighten.
‘Why haven’t you had a date in years?’ he asked.
I decided I was going to kill my father when I got home. I had it all planned. I would force-feed him my steak. I’d pump him full of chocolate and ice cream and frozen yoghurt. I would stuff a loaf of white bread down his throat. I would tie my mother up and make her watch. It would be death by a thousand processed calories.
‘I told you the other day. I’m a career girl. I don’t have time for a full-time relationship.’
‘What about a fling? Had any of those?’
‘Not recently—but, hey, if a guy comes along and offers me five million quid to open my legs I’ll do it. No problem.’
He threw me a hardened glance. ‘Don’t play the cheap hooker with me, Jem.’
I raised my brows in an exaggerated fashion. ‘Cheap? At five million? You could get a blow job around here for two hundred pounds.’
‘And you know that how ?’ he asked, with a distinct curl of his lip.
I wasn’t sure what demon was riding on my back, but I wanted to push Alessandro into expressing some of the anger I could feel brooding in him. Or maybe it was my own anger I wanted to unleash. God knew I had enough of it.
How dared he tell me he had regrets over the way he’d handled things? I’d spent the last five years trying to forget him. How dared he waltz back into my life and apologise? To communicate , for pity’s sake? It was too late.
‘I’ve slept with men for money,’ I said. ‘Isn’t that what a girl does when a guy pays for dinner?’
His jaw locked so tightly I heard his molars grind together. ‘I know what you’re doing.’
I glided a fingertip from the top of hisshoulder down to his thigh. ‘What am I doing, big guy?’ I said in a smoky whisper.
He sucked in air through his nostrils. ‘Stop it. I’m driving.’
‘What if I don’t want to stop?’ I sent my fingertip closer to the swollen heat of him, tracing over the tented fabric of his trousers.
To tell you the truth I was a little shocked at myself, but I couldn’t seem to stop my wanton come-and-get-me behaviour. I was relishing in the rush of power it gave me. So far he had been the one with all the power. Now it was my turn to show him he had more than met his match.
He let out a muttered curse and turned the car into a side street so quickly I was thrown back against the seat.
But I wasn’t there for long.
The engine hadn’t even died when Alessandro’s strong arms pulled me towards him and his mouth came crashing down on mine.
CHAPTER SIX
H IS MOUTH TASTED of mint and anger and lust and longing. The same intense longing I could feel throbbing through my own veins. His lips moved over mine with devastating expertise, demanding I open to him with a bold stab of his tongue.
I had recklessly taunted the tiger and now I was experiencing the full force of his reaction. And, quite frankly, I was loving every pulse-racing second of it.
I received him with a sound of approval that came from somewhere deep inside me. I wound my arms around his neck, fisting my hands into the thickness of his hair, and kissed him back with all the pent-up passion that had been lying in hibernation
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