Ruthless Revenge: Delicious Demand. Кейт Хьюит

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СКАЧАТЬ against the possible onslaught of questions. Her voice came out in a soft, sorrowful sigh.

      ‘Maybe it isn’t,’ she agreed quietly.

      Luca waited for her to say more but she didn’t. He closed his eyes, telling himself it was better that way, because he didn’t want to explain his answer even if part of him wanted to know why Hannah agreed with him.

      With his eyes closed, his other senses were heightened, so he could breathe in her light floral scent, feel the warmth of her body so close to his, hear the gentle draw and sigh of her breathing.

      Desire flared through him again and more intensely this time, and ruefully Luca acknowledged that he might be the one in need of a pillow barrier. He rolled onto his other side, away from Hannah, and tried to will himself to sleep.

      * * *

      If this were a romcom, Hannah thought wryly, she and Luca would fall asleep and then somehow, in the night, they would wake tangled up in each other’s arms. They’d gaze into each other’s eyes, still caught in the throes of sleep, and then Luca would brush a kiss across her lips, slide his hand down her body, everything fogged with sleep...

      Hannah realised her rueful imagination was fast turning into fantasy, and heat flooded her belly at just the thought of Luca looking at her that way. Touching her that way.

      She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to banish the images. Maybe her mother was right, and she needed to start dating again. Diane was always worried that Hannah worked too much, that she didn’t have a social life of her own. Hannah replied that she didn’t have the time for a social life, but the truth was relationships were too much risk. Maybe that was something she and Luca had in common.

      She sighed, the sound loud in the stillness of the room.

      ‘Problem?’ Luca asked, his voice sounding strained.

      ‘This is a bit awkward,’ Hannah said into the darkness.

      ‘Just go to sleep, Hannah.’ Luca sounded annoyed now, and, chastised, Hannah rolled away from him. She could do this. She was exhausted, for heaven’s sake. She needed her sleep. Yet all she could think about, all she could focus on, was Luca’s body a few feet from hers. Maybe only a foot. And his chest was bare. She imagined resting her cheek against it, her arms around his waist, their legs tangled together.

      She stifled a groan. It was going to be a very long night.

      * * *

      Hannah woke to a light knock on the door and she blinked blearily as she raised her head from the pillow.

      ‘Just a moment,’ Luca called, and then his arm snaked out, hooking around her waist, and drawing her towards the hard wall of the chest. The feel of his body coming into full, intimate contact with hers stole the breath from her lungs and she froze in shock. Then she felt his obvious arousal nudging her thighs and she gasped aloud.

      ‘It’s morning,’ Luca muttered. ‘That’s all it is.’

      All right, fine. She was a grown-up; she understood basic biological functions. But honestly. This was way, way past the call of duty. And yet it felt so very nice.

      As the door opened, Hannah adjusted to the feel of Luca’s body against her own. This was what she had fantasised about last night, and the reality felt even better than she had imagined. His chest was warm and solid and the smell of him was intoxicating, overwhelming. The press of his hand on her lower back made her rock helplessly into his hips, his erection settling between her thighs, making heat flare sharply inside her. Luca’s breath hissed between his teeth as his body instinctively pushed back before he stilled.

      ‘Hannah.’

      Mortified, she tried to move away, but Luca’s arms were like steel bands around her. ‘Stay still,’ he commanded in a low voice that was as hard as iron.

      Two staff members wheeled in a cart laden with two breakfast trays, and Luca eased up in bed, taking Hannah with him so they were both reclining against the pillows, the duvet pulled demurely across their laps. Hannah wished, bizarrely perhaps, that she were wearing the gorgeous lace negligee, revealing as it was. She felt ridiculous in her oversized T-shirt that had faded to an unappealing grey colour from too many washes. And her hair... She lifted her hands to the tangle around her face and Luca smiled at her, tucking a stray strand behind her ear.

      ‘Nothing like a little bedhead in the morning,’ he said with a teasing smile, and Hannah blinked, discomfited, until she realised he was putting on a show for the staff.

      ‘I’m glad you love me no matter what I look like,’ she replied sweetly. ‘Or what I wear.’

      The staff handed them their trays and with murmured thanks Hannah sat up straighter, taking in the freshly squeezed orange juice, the carafe of coffee, toast and fresh fruit and the most delicious-looking omelette. She could definitely get used to this.

      The members of staff left quietly and Hannah reached for a piece of toast. She was not going to look at Luca, and remember how it had felt to have his arms around her, to arch into him... What had possessed her to do that?

      ‘So what’s the plan for today?’ she asked, deciding that ignoring that whole brief interlude was the best way to go. Luca, it seemed, did not agree.

      ‘Just to be clear,’ he said flatly, ‘we’re going to keep this as play-acting, and nothing more.’

      Hannah eyed him resentfully, trying to keep the hot tide of embarrassment at bay. ‘You’re the one who insisted we share a bed.’

      ‘You’re the one who rocked against me like a wanton,’ Luca snapped.

      ‘A wanton?’ Hannah pushed aside the breakfast tray, her appetite having vanished, and scrambled out of the bed. ‘What century do you live in?’

      ‘I mean it, Hannah—’

      ‘Trust me, I take the warning. And just like you, Luca Moretti, I am perfectly able to sleep in the same bed as someone without ravishing them!’ Caught between fury, mortification, and tears, she grabbed her clothes and slammed into the bathroom.

      * * *

      Luca sighed and closed his eyes as the slam of the bathroom door echoed through the room. He’d handled that about as badly as possible. Calling Hannah Stewart a wanton was like calling Andrew Tyson a saint. Absurd. Laughable, except there was nothing remotely funny about either situation.

      He opened his eyes and raked a hand through his hair, wondering how best to do damage control. Honesty? The truth was, he’d been far more aroused and tempted by Hannah’s slender body than he’d any right to be. When she’d rocked into him he’d felt his precious control starting to disintegrate, and it had taken its last shreds to keep from shouting at the staff to leave them alone so he could bury himself deep in her willing body. He was the wanton, not Hannah.

      He had no idea why his pretty enough PA affected him this way; perhaps it was simply the strangeness of the situation, or that his senses and emotions felt raw from facing Tyson again after so many years. He couldn’t deny it, though; he’d been fighting an unreasonable and most inconvenient attraction to her since this whole charade had begun.

      He drank his coffee, musing on the unwelcome distraction of his surprisingly delectable СКАЧАТЬ