The Wedding Party And Holiday Escapes Ultimate Collection. Кейт Хьюит

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      ‘What hypocrisy?’

      ‘It’s my turn now—’

      ‘No.’ She shook her head, her pale hair flying over her shoulders. ‘I get two questions in a row, remember.’

      ‘Damn.’ He smiled wryly, sighed. ‘The hypocrisy of my parents as well as myself.’

      ‘What—?’

      ‘Nope.’ He shook his head now. ‘My turn.’

      She closed her eyes, and he felt as if she was summoning strength. ‘Go ahead.’

      ‘What was your favourite subject in school?’

      Her eyes flew open and she stared at him in surprise, before a small smile tugged at her mouth. ‘Art. What was yours?’

      ‘Computers.’

      They stared at each other for a long moment, the only sound their breathing, the rustle of covers underneath their naked bodies. ‘Do you want to stop?’ Liana asked softly, and he realised he didn’t. He wanted to tell everything to this woman, bare his soul and his heart along with his body. And he wanted her to do it too, and, more importantly, to want to. He wanted that intimacy. That vulnerability. That trust, that love.

      And he hoped to God that Liana wanted it too.

      * * *

      Liana held her breath while Sandro’s gaze roved over her and then he smiled and shook his head.

      ‘No, let’s keep going. My turn to ask now.’

      She nodded, steeling herself. It was almost a relief to answer his questions, like lancing a wound or easing an intense pressure. But it also hurt, and while he might have given her a break with the last question she didn’t think he would now.

      ‘Why didn’t you go to university?’

      ‘Because I wanted to start working with Hands To Help as soon as I could.’ That one, at least, was easy, even if it most likely made him think she was a bit obsessive about her charity. That was because he didn’t know the whole truth about Chiara; he hadn’t asked. And she wasn’t, she acknowledged, going to admit it unless he did.

      Now her turn. She eyed him, his body relaxed and so incredibly beautiful as he lay stretched out across from her, unashamedly naked, the late afternoon sunlight glinting off his burnished skin, the perfect tautness of his muscled body. ‘How were your parents hypocrites?’

      He didn’t say anything for a long moment, his gaze drawn and thoughtful, and finally Liana prompted him softly. ‘Sandro?’

      ‘It’s not just a one-sentence answer.’

      ‘We didn’t make a rule about answers having to only be one sentence.’

      ‘But it’s easier, isn’t it?’ He glanced up at her, eyes glinting even as his mouth twisted with something like bitterness. ‘We’re both revealing as little information as we can.’

      She couldn’t deny that. ‘So we start small,’ she said with a shrug. ‘No one said this had to be a complete confessional.’

      ‘My parents were hypocrites because they only pretended that they loved us when there was a camera or reporter around. When it mattered.’

      ‘Why—?’

      ‘Nope. My turn.’ So he was sticking with a one-sentence answer. She gave a little shrug of assent and waited, wondering just what he would ask her next. ‘What do you fantasise about doing with me that we haven’t done already?’

      Shock had her jaw dropping even as heat blazed through her at his heavy-lidded look. ‘Umm...’ Her mind was blank, spinning. ‘Going to the cinema?’

      He let out a low, throaty chuckle. ‘I see I’m going to have to rephrase that question.’

      Her cheeks warmed. She might have been unabashed with him in the bedroom—or whatever room it happened to be—but talking about it felt different. More revealing somehow. ‘My turn,’ she said, her voice nearly a croak as she willed her blush to fade. She was suddenly, achingly conscious that they were both naked. That they’d just made love but already she wanted to again. And so, it seemed, judging from his words as well as the proud evidence of his body, did Sandro.

      ‘What’s your question, Liana?’ Sandro asked in a growl. ‘Because the way you’re looking at me, I’m not going to give you the time to ask me.’

      ‘Sorry.’ She jerked her gaze up to his face, tried to order her dazed thoughts. ‘Umm... How were you a hypocrite?’

      ‘Because I bought into their lies and when I realised that’s what they were I kept it going.’ He tossed the words away carelessly, but they made Liana want to ask more. Understand more.

      ‘My turn now,’ Sandro said, his voice a growl of sexual intent. ‘Now I’ll rephrase my last question. What do you fantasise about doing with me sexually that we haven’t already done?’

      Just the question, in that husky murmur of his, made her breasts ache and her core throb. ‘We’ve already done a lot....’

      ‘Are you saying there isn’t something?’ Sandro asked silkily, his tone suggesting that he knew otherwise.

      ‘No, not exactly....’

      ‘Then what? Play by the rules, Liana. Answer the question.’

      She pressed her hands to her face. ‘This is embarrassing.’

      ‘Why?’

      ‘I—I don’t know.’

      ‘I think you do.’

      ‘Fine, if you know so much, you tell me what I fantasise about.’

      He laughed softly. ‘I don’t think so. You’re not going to get off that easily.’ His mouth curved in a wicked smile. ‘No pun intended. But I will tell you what I fantasise about.’

      ‘Okay,’ she breathed, and Sandro leaned forward, all predatory power and sexual intent.

      ‘I fantasise about tasting you.’ Liana inhaled sharply and felt her insides turn liquid. ‘And I don’t mean your mouth.’

      She let out a wobbly laugh. ‘I might be inexperienced, but I didn’t think that’s what you meant.’

      ‘I want to taste you, Liana. I want to feel you tremble against me while I do.’

      She closed her eyes, images, amazing, explicit images, blitzing through her brain, making it impossible to think. To respond. And yet the words came of themselves and with her eyes still closed she heard herself whisper, ‘I want that too.’

      And then Sandro was reaching for her and kissing her, his mouth hard and hot and yet so very sweet. His hands slid down her body as his tongue delved deep and Liana tangled her fingers in his hair, drawing him closer, needing him more.

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