Italian Mavericks: Carrying The Italian's Heir: Married for the Italian's Heir / The Last Heir of Monterrato / The Surprise Conti Child. Tara Pammi

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СКАЧАТЬ worn a gown that wasn’t her own she’d ended up in a hotel room with Dante, making passionate love like long-lost lovers who’d been reunited. That night any awkwardness she’d felt about being with him, about giving herself to him, had melted like ice beneath the warmth of spring sunshine as each kiss had pushed her further to the point of no return.

      But would he desire her now?

      She shook her head, the soft curls making her hair bounce in an unaccustomed way. She couldn’t let such thoughts into her mind. This was a deal, not a love affair, and she was adamant she wasn’t going to make the same mistake again.

      With a determined defiance she opened the door—and the sight which greeted her almost evaporated that self-made promise to ignore the man who made her tremble with just one look. She didn’t want to find Dante attractive, but standing in the doorway to his terrace, resplendent in a tuxedo, he took her right back to that night in London. He’d stood out from all the other men that evening—and not just because he’d seemed so captivated by her.

      Now he looked even more devastating, and definitely more dangerous than he had then. And he was. He was a danger to her foolish heart, which was thumping so hard in her chest. As he moved towards her his eyes grew dark and intent and swept down her body, making every limb tingle as if he’d actually touched her. And she hated herself for wanting that touch.

      ‘Mia cara, you are beautiful.’ His voice was rough with desire, and she stood beneath his appraising gaze and knew that every hour she’d spent with Elizabeth and then later in the salon had been worth it. He desired her—even if it was for tonight only.

      Right at this moment it was as if the clocks had been turned back. She felt shy, and yet as completely driven by the sizzle of attraction as she had been that night in London. Just as she had then, she wanted him to take her in his arms and kiss her.

      ‘I trust you are happy with all that Elizabeth has done?’ She wouldn’t let him know how nice it felt to be told she was beautiful, or how it made her remember things that could never be again. How had he made her feel so desired, so beautiful as they’d made love? Already she knew that moment of passion could never happen again. Not if she wanted to retain her emotional detachment—and her sanity.

      ‘Sì, I am very happy, and now I am about to show the beautiful woman who is to be my bride to all of Rome.’

      His voice was soft and seductive and it sent a warm tingle sliding down her spine. He took her hand lightly in his fingertips, lifted her fingers to his lips, and without breaking that mesmerising eye contact brushed his lips over them. She wanted to close her eyes as pleasure darted around her. But that would show he affected her, would let him know that he had power over her. Her only weapon in the face of his captivating charm and practised seduction was indifference. She had to remember this was all an act, even if they were not yet in public. It was part of his plan.

      ‘Maybe we should keep the act of being lovers for when we are in the company of tonight’s guests.’ She forced herself to believe those words but he paused, head bowed slightly over her hand, and raised his brows at her sharp words.

      ‘A man should be able to tell a woman she is beautiful wherever they are.’

      There was a playful glint in his eyes and a hint of a mischievous smile. He was toying with her, amusing himself, but it reminded her of his true character. He might be about to fool the rest of the world with his intention to settle down to married life and fatherhood, but she knew the truth—and she had to remember it too.

      ‘Shall we go?’ She pulled her hand slowly from his and stepped away from him, needing the space to think, to put her mind back in order. She couldn’t fall for his charm—not again. Look what had happened last time the evening had started with a simple kiss of the hand and a seductive smile.

      * * *

      Dante smiled, pleased to know that the act of indifference she’d shown him so far since arriving in Rome was just that. Underneath all that cool composure she was still the hot, sexy woman who had driven him wild with desire. The same one who had lingered in his mind ever since, leaving him with a sense of something unfinished about the whole night.

      He’d tried to tell himself it was because she’d left him without even a goodbye, slipping away before dawn, but now he suspected it was a little more than that. For the first time in many years of one-night stands and brief flings he still wanted a woman. More to the point, he wanted this woman. The need burned within him to touch her, kiss her and make her his once more.

      This insistent need had only been intensified by the attention Elizabeth had given her all day. The bronze dress, alluringly diaphanous, shimmered with bronze and gold sequins which gave the fine fabric its modesty, although it clung to her body as if it had been poured over her. The swell of her breasts which, given the backless design of the dress, had to be braless, was clearly accentuated. As was her slender waist and her hips. The sexy creation hugged her hips, then flared out, but any more detail was lost on him. All he could do was think about her legs and how they had once wrapped around him as he’d thrust into her when he’d been the man to claim her as his—and soon she really would be.

      ‘I have a mind to take you straight back into the bedroom and remove that dress.’ He struggled to stabilise his hoarse voice and bit down hard against the rise of hot, throbbing desire which pulsed through him at the thought of doing just that. How had he thought he could keep things neutral with this woman when she’d been in his mind ever since he’d woken to find her gone?

      ‘Is it not suitable?’

      Her soft voice wavered anxiously and she brushed those sexy tousled curls back from her face. Maledizione! Did she know what she did to him?

      She was stunning, beautiful—and the mother of his child. She was now his fiancée. Less than a week ago he had been a single man, a carefree bachelor to whom marriage and commitment had been very much avoidable.

      Now he had the responsibility of his child. That thought briefly sobered his desire-infused mind, dredging up his past for inspection once more. He pushed the sabotaging thoughts aside and looked again at the beautiful woman who was to be his wife.

      ‘It has achieved all that I hoped for, cara, and I am certain that I will not be the only man to want to do just that this evening.’ His voice remained hoarse with desire, just as desire lingered in his body, not quite extinguished.

      As she frowned in confusion he crossed the room to her, unable to resist the urge to touch her, to feel her soft skin beneath his fingers, his lips. Dio mio, he wanted her more than he’d ever wanted any woman—even more than he’d wanted her that first night in London.

      He saw the moment she realised his intention, saw her step back, saw the blush spread over her face and it made him want her more. He’d never been so hungry for a woman and he’d never had to control such desires. He was used to getting what he wanted, and right now he wanted this Australian redhead—badly.

      ‘No.’ That sharp, short word cracked through the sexually charged air and she stood in glorious defiance, her chin lifted, her shoulders back and those lovely green eyes sparking icy fury at him. ‘We made a deal, Dante, one that doesn’t include such things. We are not a real couple.’

      ‘Sì, cara, you are right. Mi dispiace.’ English mixed with his native Italian as he fought for control over his response to seeing her like this.

      One thing it did prove was that she was definitely unfinished business. Would the deal he’d struck with her be enough to keep him at a distance? It СКАЧАТЬ