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His Ultimate Demand
His Ultimate Demand
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His Ultimate Demand

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‘My father?’ she inserted bleakly.

Surprisingly gentle hands framed her face. ‘If you were like him you wouldn’t still be a virgin. Do you get that?’

Tears prickled her eyes. ‘But...I...’

‘No, no more excuses. You stopped being their puppet a long time ago—you just forgot to cut the strings.’

Her breath stalled and her vision blurred. He brushed away her tears and she fought to speak. ‘What does that say about me?’

His jaw clenched. ‘That we sometimes spend too much time looking in the rear-view mirror to see what’s ahead.’

She moved on top of him because, despite everything going south, her hunger hadn’t abated one iota. His hands clamped down harder on her hips.

‘What’s in your rear-view mirror?’ she asked him softly.

‘Too much. Much too much.’

His answer held a depth of anguish that cut to her soul. Heart aching for him, she started to lean down but he caught and held her still.

‘No.’

She looked into his face and saw his slightly ashen pallor. ‘You don’t want me to kiss you?’

His chest heaved and he glanced away.

The realisation hit her like a bolt of lightning. ‘You stopped us making love on the plane and just now because you don’t think you’re worth it, do you? Why not? Because your father told you you weren’t?’

‘Ruby, stop,’ he warned.

She ignored him, the need to offer comfort bleeding through her. She caressed his taut cheek. A pulse beat so hard in his jaw, her fingers tingled from the contact.

‘Cara, I’m a man on the edge. A man who wants what he shouldn’t have. Get off me before I do something we’ll both regret, per favore.’

Fresh tears prickled her eyes, stung the back of her throat.

If anyone had told her a week ago she’d be lying on top of the world’s most notorious playboy, baring her soul to him and catching a glimpse of his ragged soul in return, she’d have called them insane.

Her hands shook as she slowly removed them from his face. Levering herself away from him was equally hard because her knees rebelled at supporting her in her weakened state.

Snatching at her bikini top, desperately trying to ignore his silent scrutiny, she tied the strings as best she could and secured the sarong over her chest.

Her hair was an unruly mess she didn’t bother to tackle. What had just happened had gone beyond outer appearances.

She looked down at him and he returned her look, the torture unveiled now. She floundered, torn between helping him and fleeing to examine her own confused emotions. Eventually, she chose the latter. ‘I have a few things to take care of in the kitchen before I go to bed. Bona notti.’

Slowly, he rose to tower over her, and in the fading daylight she saw his bunched fists at his sides.

His smile was cut from rough stone. ‘I’ve awakened too many demons for me to have a restful night, tesoro. But I wish you a good night all the same.’

* * *

I’ve awakened too many demons...

Ruby lay in bed a few hours later, wracked with guilt.

She’d pushed him to relive his past, to rake over old wounds because she’d wanted to know the real man underneath the gloss.

To reassure herself he wouldn’t hurt or betray her?

Shame coiled through her as she acknowledged that she’d been testing him. But then deep down, ever since he’d turned away from her on the plane, she’d known Narciso was nothing like her father. Or Simon.

And still she’d pushed...

She reared up and gripped the side of her bed. Her head cautioned her against the need to find out if she’d pushed him too far, if the demons were indeed keeping him awake. But her heart propelled her to her feet.

She went down the hallway and knocked on his door before her courage deserted her.

The evidence that he was indeed up came a second later when the door was wrenched open. He was dressed in his silk pajama bottoms and nothing else.

‘What the hell are you doing here, Ruby?’ he flung at her.

She struggled to look up from his chest. ‘I...wanted to make sure you were okay. And to apologise for what happened earlier. I had no right to push you like that.’

His eyes narrowed for several seconds before he turned and strode back into the bedroom. ‘I’m learning that warlocks and demons keep good company.’ He picked up a crystal tumbler of Scotch, raised it to her and took a sip.

Ruby found herself moving forward before she’d consciously made the decision to.

Her hand closed over the glass and stopped his second sip.

He stepped back away from her but, hampered by the bed, he abruptly sank down. She took the glass from him and set it on the side table.

‘Drinking is not the answer. Trust me, I know.’

Strong hands gripped the sheets as if physically stopping himself from reaching for her and he exhaled harshly.

This close, the beauty of him took her breath away. His chest heaved again, the movement emphasising his stunning physique and golden skin.

Fiery desire slammed into her so hard she reeled under the onslaught.

Before she could stop to question herself, she slid her hands over his biceps. Warm muscles rippled under her touch.

‘What the hell are you doing?’ His voice was rough and gritty with need.

Her face flamed but a deeper fire of determination burned within her. ‘I have a feeling it’s called seduction. I don’t know because I’ve never done this before.’

She leaned in closer. He groaned as her hardened T-shirt-covered nipples grazed his chest. ‘Per amore di Dio, why are you doing it now?’


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