The Sicilian's Passion by Sharon Kendrick

very best—but sex wasn’t what she was talking about. She wanted more than that, unrealistic though it might be. ‘Sex isn’t everything.’
    â€˜No, but it’s a pretty big part of everything.’ And it had taught him just what he had been missing… ‘What else did you have in mind?’ he countered coolly.
    She saw his face close and heard his voice become remote. The very last thing she wanted was to come over as some clinging vine. She had given herself to him freely, so she had no right to play the blushing virgin now.
    She gave a shrug, as though she hadn’t really thought about it, as though she didn’t really care one way or the other. ‘To sit and have talked over dinner some time might have been nice.’
    He didn’t know what he had been expecting, but her use of the past tense both intrigued and tantalised him. He had come here today wanting this. Knowing that she would give him this. And had thought that one more time in her arms would be enough. That afterwards he would be able to think of her as nothing more than a bitter-sweet memory. But he had been wrong. It hadn’t been enough—no way near enough. ‘You’re making it sound as though it’s over, Kate.’
    â€˜Over?’ She stared into his blue eyes with genuine surprise. ‘Oh, come on, Giovanni—it never really began, did it?’
    â€˜Not in the most conventional of ways, no,’ he agreed, and Anna’s pain swam uncomfortably into the forefront of his mind. ‘But surely that doesn’t rule out it carrying on?’
    â€˜But you live in Sicily, and I live in London,’ she pointed out, even as some kind of delirious kind of hope flared into life inside her.
    His eyes narrowed imperceptibly. Surely she couldn’t be that naïve? She was an independent woman who was clearly at ease with her own sexuality; surely she must know how these things worked?
    â€˜I wasn’t talking about dating,’ he said roughly.
    The flare of hope was extinguished, but she kept her expression of interest quite steady. ‘Oh? Then how are we supposed to “carry on”, as you put it?’
    â€˜I could take a couple of weeks off work,’ he told her softly. ‘Call my secretary and have her cancel all my engagements.’
    And maybe in a way it would be best to absent himselffrom Sicily. Before he had left for London he had told Anna to damn his name as much as it gave her satisfaction to do so. He knew that he deserved it. But Anna had shaken her smooth, dark head and looked at him with sad eyes as she told him that she would say nothing bad about him. That a man she had loved and wanted to share the rest of her life with could not have suddenly become a villain overnight.
    That had been the worst part of all. He had seen her attitude change from one of bitter hurt to one of sweet generosity and an attempt at understanding and forgiving what had happened. And he had recognised in that moment just what had motivated the change. Anna didn’t want it to be over, he realised. She was telling him what she thought he wanted to hear, in the hope that he would go back to her. Tacitly, she was telling him that many, many women turned a blind eye to their men’s transgressions, and many men revelled in this and exploited it. But Giovanni had just discovered he was not one of them.
    He had betrayed Anna, and in so doing, it had made him realise what was missing from his relationship. He had also betrayed the fundamental trust on which their relationship had been based. And the relationship had floundered.
    And all because of the naked woman who sat before him, her smooth, high bottom resting indolently on silver satin. She had tempted him and he had succumbed. She had offered him forbidden fruit and he had eaten it. A pulse began to patter at his temple.
    â€˜So how about I do that?’ he murmured, trying by sheer force of will to deny the