The Platinum Collection: Claiming His Innocent. Lynne Graham

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      Self-conscious, Jess tensed and tried not to stare but it was a tough challenge. Cesario was less formally clad than she had ever seen him, in a casual shirt that clung to his wide shoulders and powerful chest and linen trousers that accentuated the long muscular strength of his legs and the lean tautness of his hips. But while informal it was still cutting-edge Italian designer style he sported, and his ruffled black hair and the shadow of stubble round his handsome mouth only roughened the edges of his usual perfect grooming to ensure that he looked even more masculine and sexy than he normally did.

      Her mouth ran dry, the colour in her cheeks heightening as she briefly relived the intensity of her pleasure with him the night before and her tummy flipped, her legs trembling below her.

      ‘Where have you been, Weed?’ she asked her stray pet, concentrating her attention on him because it was safer than focusing too much on the sleek predator by his side.

      ‘He just wandered in and went to sleep under my desk,’ Cesario told her with a shrug that disclaimed all responsibility for the development.

      ‘My goodness, you start work early! I’d better go and feed the dogs…’

      ‘They’ve already been fed. I employ a dog handler in my security team and he’s been taking care of the practicalities.’

      Taken aback by that assurance, Jess gave him a disarmingly natural grin. ‘I can’t get over the novelty of having people do things for me—I mean, breakfast in bed, what a treat!’

      ‘Every day can be a treat for you now,’ Cesario murmured, enchanted against his will by that sudden flashing smile that lit up her oval face. During the night he had thought about the knife attack she had mentioned. Belatedly recalling what had surely been a defensive wound on her hand, he had wanted to know the whole story, but he was reluctant to risk traumatising her by asking her to satisfy his curiosity. She had said she might have died and then he would never have known her. His lean strong face shadowed as he forced that gloomy thought out.

      ‘No, I don’t like being spoiled. I’m not helpless and I’m too used to doing things for myself,’ Jess fielded briskly, suddenly wanting and needing to hold onto what was familiar lest her life become subsumed entirely by his.

      ‘You’re on your honeymoon.’

      Her nose wrinkled. ‘Call it a holiday, not a honeymoon. By no stretch of the imagination could we be like a honeymoon couple,’ she pointed out drily.

      ‘What I said last night wasn’t meant to offend you,’ Cesario drawled. ‘It was intended to—’

      ‘Save you the hassle of dealing with a lovesick bride who wants to hang onto you a few months down the road?’ Jess trilled quick as a flash. ‘Relax, that’s not going to happen. I’ll be looking forward to getting my freedom and my own life back.’

      For a split second Cesario looked as though he might have been about to argue with that assessment, but then he closed his handsome mouth, watching her with screened liquid dark eyes that gave away nothing. Jess, however, had few illusions about the warning she had received the night before. The very fact she was still a virgin had probably given him commitment-phobia. She was, after all, dealing with a man accustomed to women who fell madly in love with him and his lifestyle and then were reluctant to let go of him and the luxury again. But she had no intention of becoming one of that undistinguished crowd. Jess had fought many a fight against poor odds in her life and had emerged triumphant. There was nothing of the loser in her genes. Hopefully she would walk away from Cesario di Silvestri with a child, but only because that was her choice as well as his, she told herself fiercely.

      ‘So, how do we spend the first day of this holiday?’ Jess enquired brightly.

      Cesario slung her a wicked grin full of sexuality and fantasy, his dark golden eyes dancing with amusement, and hot pink drenched her cheeks.

      ‘Okay…’ Jess conceded between gritted teeth. ‘But in between times I want to see Tuscany.’

      ‘Your wish is my command, delizia mia.’

      ‘Again?‘ Cesario husked as a slim hand wandered across his hair-roughened thigh with an intent he knew all too well only to discover that he was ahead of her and already primed and ready for another bout of lovemaking. Being with a woman who wanted him as much as he wanted her, he had discovered as the days of their honeymoon had unfolded, was a very invigorating experience.

      This particular day, though, had started off on a purely cultural note with a trip to the beguiling hilltop town of San Gimignano, dominated by its thirteen medieval towers. Cool as a spring flower in a pale blue skirt and white lace top, Jess had admired the Ghirlandaio frescoes in the Renaissance chapel of Santa Fina and she had succumbed to highly infectious giggles when Cesario compared her profile to one on the wall. They had enjoyed a leisurely lunch in a thirteenth-century town house followed by vintage wine served in the piazza. There, slowly but surely, intelligent conversation had faltered as their eyes had met and other rather more basic instincts had taken over.

      But it was Jess who had taken Cesario by surprise when she had ultimately leant across the table to whisper feverishly, ‘Get us a room…’

      They had barely made it through the door of the airy tower room of a nearby hotel he had hurriedly taken for them before, still almost fully clothed, they were enjoying each other up against the wall with a scorching raw-edged passion that Cesario had never before dared to unleash on a woman. The looks they had shared in the piazza over the wine had acted as the most arousing session of foreplay he had ever experienced. Even now, lying naked and bronzed in a tangle of sheets, he was still reliving the hot, tight, wet seal of her body round his and the gasping sounds of unashamed pleasure that had rung in his ears even as she tried to stifle them for fear of being overheard. He had already had her three times and he knew it would not be the last time that day. As those delicate fingers of hers enclosed his bold erection and she lowered her luscious mouth to caress him, Cesario just lay back and closed his eyes, literally drunk on pleasure. Being married was turning out to be a whole lot more enthralling than he had ever dared to hope.

      Jess loved to plunge Cesario into that rich well of sensuality where she held sway. It was a power-play, a runaway triumph for a woman who had been a virgin a mere six weeks earlier and pretty ignorant of what it took to be an equal bed partner. But that aside, touching Cesario, making love with Cesario, just being with Cesario was also the biggest source of pleasure Jess had ever known. Telling herself that it should not be that way hadn’t worked as a defence against feeling things she knew she shouldn’t be feeling with him. Only in the realm of sex and physical expression could she let her barriers down, freely showering him with the physical hunger he ignited and sealing her mouth and her mind shut on the thoughts and the emotions that accompanied the desire.

      Sharon Martin had spoken wisely when she’d warned her daughter that it wouldn’t be easy to live with a man without her emotions getting involved. But Jess didn’t blame herself for failing to maintain her defences, she blamed Cesario for transforming himself into the perfect new husband, a fabulous lover and all-round fantastic companion, whom pretty much any woman would have found irresistible.

      In the aftermath of yet another session of hot, satisfying sex, Jess lay with her heart racing and her body aching in the circle of Cesario’s arms. He was still holding her, stroking her spine, his mouth gently brushing her temples. He was doing that fake caring thing again and part of her wanted to slap him for it. She had tumbled headlong in love with him but she still had her brain and she didn’t need the pretences, didn’t want them. It was just sex they shared and she could handle that reality—she СКАЧАТЬ