Sweet Revenge. Эбби Грин

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СКАЧАТЬ style="font-size:15px;">      His voice lowered to an indolent purr. ‘But we’re not yet done.’

      His mouth brushed hers in a teasing tracery that almost made her sway, and she stifled a faint groan as he pulled her lower lip between his teeth.

      She was hardly aware of the fingers of one hand working the snap at her waist, or the subtle slide of the zip fastening … until she felt his palm against the bare skin of her stomach.

      Then it was too late and her startled protest became lost in the way he filled her mouth, and she felt her body jerk spasmodically as his fingers slid through the soft curling hair at the junction of her thighs, then sought and found the moist warmth at her feminine core.

      With unerring accuracy he stroked the swollen clitoris and watched the way her eyes glazed as sensation arced through her in an encompassing wave. One which swelled again and again with every tantalising stroke, and he absorbed her cry as he used his fingers in a simulated thrust that sent her high.

      He wanted more, much more, and the temptation to take her here, now, was an almost unbearable hunger.

      On the desk, the floor, straddling him on the chair, pushed against the wall.

      The fact he could acted as a deterrent, and he simply held her, softening the touch of his mouth against her own until the shudders raking her slender form slowed and subsided.

      With care he withdrew his hand, closed the zip fastening on her jeans and pressed the snap.

      The action brought her back to her senses, and she pushed away from him, unable to believe she’d allowed what had just happened … to happen.

      How could she have relaxed her guard and become so seduced by his touch … dear heaven, his intrusion?

      She didn’t want to look at him. Couldn’t bear to see the satisfaction evident in his eyes, or his pleasure at her downfall.

      For an age neither of them spoke, and the only audible sound in the room was the slightly uneven sound of her breathing.

      ‘That was despicable,’ Shannay managed, hating him so much she almost shook with it. She lifted a hand and wiped the back of it across her mouth in an attempt to dispense the taste of him.

      And glimpsed the compelling sensuality apparent before he masked his expression.

      ‘But … enlightening, wouldn’t you agree?’

      ‘You’re keeping score?’ she countered with a tinge of bitterness, and saw his expression harden.

      ‘Where is Nicki?’

      She took a deep breath and released it slowly. ‘In the kitchen with Maria making biscuits.’

      ‘Then let’s go get her.’

      She looked at him sharply. ‘Now?’

      Get a grip, why don’t you?

      How, when her emotions were in turmoil and her body had yet to recover? Even thinking about his touch was enough to cause tiny spasms in the most sensitive part of her anatomy.

      ‘We’ll tell her together.’

      With an effort she pulled herself together. ‘I should be the one—’

      ‘She deserves to have both her parents present.’

      Apprehension didn’t cover it as they collected Nicki and took her upstairs, and as they neared her room Shannay began doing deals with the deity.

      This was major. Major, she reiterated silently as Marcello placed Nicki on her bed, and hunkered down to her eye level.

      He kept the telling simple. So very simple, it was easy to follow his lead. And Nicki’s reaction became a timeless moment, one that caught the heartstrings and plucked the emotional depths as she stood and unhesitatingly wrapped her arms around Marcello’s neck.

      His eyes burned fiercely over Nicki’s head as he hugged her close, and Shannay had to blink hard to prevent the shimmer of tears spilling down her cheeks.

      Father and child together.

      Nicki’s delight and wholehearted acceptance, whose childish words said it all. ‘You’re my daddy.’

      It was a beginning, Shannay acknowledged, for Nicki was a perceptive child for her age and eventually there would be questions.

      But for now, one of the most important hurdles had been conquered.

      Marcello pressed a light kiss to his daughter’s temple. ‘Now we will all get ready to go visit with your bisabuelo, Ramon.’

      He rested a hand briefly on Shannay’s shoulder. ‘Fifteen minutes. I’ll wait for you downstairs.’

      Together they chose Nicki’s prettiest dress, and with her hair neatly caught together she followed Shannay into her room as Shannay selected a slim-fitting dress in jade linen, attached a belt, then tended to her hair and make-up beneath her daughter’s interested gaze.

      Marcello was standing in the foyer as they descended the stairs, and he smiled at Nicki’s childish beam when she placed her small hand in his on reaching his side.

      Carlo drove through the suburban avenues to Ramon’s mansion, parking it in the forecourt immediately adjacent to the main entrance.

      Shannay was unprepared for the physical changes in the elderly man, who’d been one of the few Martinez family members to view her kindly before and during her brief marriage to his eldest grandson.

      She remembered him as a strong man, despite his advancing years. Vibrant and powerful, yet compassionate to the young woman who’d captured Marcello’s heart.

      Ramon had encouraged her struggle to learn the Spanish language, to come to terms with the Martinez wealth and lifestyle, and to accept the things she couldn’t change.

      In a way, he’d been her mentor, and to now discover the shell of the man she’d once adored was heartbreaking.

      At first she was tentative, unsure whether the affection they’d shared still existed. After all, it had been she who’d left under cover of night, leaving only a brief note for Marcello to find on his return home, and no word for anyone else.

      ‘Holà.’ It wasn’t so much the greeting, but the husky-voiced delivery accompanied by a gentle smile that filled her eyes with unshed tears.

      ‘Ramon.’ She didn’t hesitate in crossing to the cushioned chair where he sat. Nor did she pause in brushing her lips to his cheek. ‘How are you?’

      The dark eyes twinkled with humour. ‘How do I look?’

      She tilted her head slightly to one side. ‘A little less the Martinez lion than I remember.’

      ‘How beautifully you lie.’ His soft laughter almost undid her. ‘But I forgive you for indulging an old man.’ He caught hold of her hand and held it within his own. ‘Now introduce me to my great-granddaughter.’

      Marcello СКАЧАТЬ