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‘So I’m here. Now what?’ she asked.
‘I’m going to take a shower. You do whatever you want. As long as you don’t leave this room.’
‘God, this is nuts,’ he heard her mutter as he entered the bathroom. Despite the volatile emotions churning through him, he smiled. From the corner of his eye, he watched her head once more to the stunning view of Macau City.
Silhouetted against the view, her body was so perfectly stunning, his mouth dried. Disappointment welled in his chest but he suppressed it as he undressed.
The cold shower was bracing enough to calm his arousal but not enough to wash away the bitterness as he replayed his evening.
Giacomo was bent on trying to take Narciso down.
Well, that suited Narciso fine. Although Narciso could’ve destroyed him with that last move, the notion of leaving him dangling a little bit longer had been irresistible.
The opportunity would present itself again soon enough. Giacomo was predictable in his hatred for him, if for nothing else.
And at thirty, exactly ten years after his father’s most cutting betrayal, the need for vengeance burned just as brightly in Narciso’s veins.
For as long as he’d been old enough to retain his memories, Narciso had known that Giacomo bore him a deep, abiding hatred. As a child he’d been bewildered as to why nothing he did pleased or satisfied the man he once called Papa.
On his eleventh birthday, a whisky-soaked Giacomo had finally revealed to him the reason he detested the sight of his son. At first, even reeling from the shock of the discovery, Narciso had stupidly believed he could turn things around, make his father, if not love him, at least learn to cohabit peacefully with him. He’d made sure his grades were perfect, that he was quiet and obedient and exemplary in all things.
Narciso’s mouth twisted. That had lasted all of a year before he’d accepted he was flogging a dead horse. When his thirteenth birthday had come and gone without so much as a single lit candle on a store-bought birthday cake, he’d finally admitted that war was the only way forward.
He’d suppressed whatever heartache had threatened to catch him unawares in the dead of night and used animosity to feed his ambitions to succeed. He’d won scholarships to the best colleges in the world. His head for figures had seen him attain his first million by eighteen. By twenty he’d been a multimillionaire.
Twenty...also the age he’d met Maria, the unexpected tool his father had used against him. The wound gaped another inch.
With a sharp curse, he shut off the shower. Snapping up a towel, he tied it around his waist.
Maria was dead to him, but, in a way, he was pleased for her transient presence in his life ten years ago. She’d reinforced his belief that lowering his guard, even for a moment, was foolhardy. That even fake love came at a steep price.
Money and sex were the two things he thrived on now. Emotions...connections, hell, love, were a complete waste of his time.
He entered the bedroom and found Ruby reclining on the bed, legs crossed, one bare foot tapping in agitation. She shot upright at his entry. After that one quick look, Narciso barely glanced in her direction as he walked to the connecting dressing room.
The whole evening was screwed up. His thwarted efforts to bed her, and now his unexplained trip down memory lane had left him in an edgy mood. Snatching at his fast-dwindling control, he reached for the rarely used silk pajama bottoms and dropped his towel.
The choking sound made him glance over his shoulder through the open door. She sat frozen on the bed, her eyes wide with astonishment.
‘Something wrong?’ he asked as he stabbed one leg into the garment. At her silence, he started to turn.
She shut her eyes and jerked away from him. He pulled the bottoms on and entered the bedroom. ‘Open your eyes. It’s safe to look now.’
She opened her eyes but kept her gaze averted.
‘Come on, now, the way you’re acting you’d think I was the first naked male you’d ever seen.’
That gurgling sound came again and Narciso shook his head. ‘I have very little interest in virgins, amante. If you hope to snag my attention, I suggest you drop that particular act.’
She inhaled sharply. ‘It’s not an—’ She bit off the rest of her answer as he drew back the sheets.
Four of the six pillows he threw to the floor before he got in. The sight of her sitting so stiffly made his jaw tighten. Reaching across, he pulled her into the middle and pulled the sheet over them.
‘You were saying?’
She shook her head. ‘Nothing. Are you really going to sleep?’
‘Yes. I suggest you get some sleep too even though I fear for your circulation in that dress you’re wearing.’
‘I’m fine.’
‘If you say so.’ He relaxed against the pillows. Sleep would be elusive with her so close. For a moment he wondered why he was torturing himself like this.
Keep your friends close and your stalkers closer?
He suppressed a grim smile, grabbed the remote and doused the light in the bedroom. But with one sensory factor taken away, her erratic breathing became amplified.
Good. If he was to be tortured with images of what sex between them would be like, it was only fair she experienced the same fate.
‘What happens tomorrow?’ she asked quietly.
‘Tomorrow we talk. And by talk I mean you come clean, completely, as to why you’re here. Because if you hold anything back from me, I won’t hesitate to throw you to the wolves.’
CHAPTER FIVE (#u4017a3b2-e6af-5f18-a53a-4ede2f98d967)
RUBY WOKE WITH the distinct feeling that something had changed. It took a millisecond to realise what that something was.
‘You took my clothes off?’ she screeched, her fingers flying to the hem of the black T-shirt that had miraculously appeared on her body.
The man who lay so languidly beside her, his head propped up on his hand, nodded.
‘I feared you’d suffocate in your sleep in that dress. Despite your dubious reasons for being here, even I would find it difficult to explain death by designer gown to the authorities. You were quite co-operative. I think it was the only time you’ve been co-operative since we reached my suite, which tells me you were as uncomfortable as I suspected.’
She licked her lips and struggled not to squirm under his scrutiny. At least her bra and panties were intact. But the fact was she didn’t recall what had happened. And there was only one worrying explanation for that. ‘I was tired,’ she bluffed.
‘Right.’ Silver eyes bore into her until she felt like a fly hooked on a pin.
His gaze dropped to her twisting fingers, and she abruptly stilled the movement. ‘Tell me what happened. Exactly.’
One brow rose at her firm directive but Ruby was desperate to know what had happened during the night. She’d tossed and turned in agitation until sheer exhaustion had finally pulled her under some time before dawn.
‘You tried to escape a few times. I brought you back to bed.’
God. No. It’d happened again...
Definitely time to leave. She tried to move, and felt a snag on her foot. Shoving aside tangled sheets, she stared in horror at the rope tied around her ankle.
‘You tied me up again! Do you have a thing for bondage?’
His eyes gleamed. ‘Until last night, I’d never needed to tie a woman to keep her with me.’
‘Oh, well, lucky me. Did you tie me before or after you took off my dress?’
‘After the second time you tried to take the door off its hinges to make your escape, we came back here and I relieved you of your suicidal gown and put the T-shirt on—’ A deep frown slashed his face. ‘Are you saying you don’t remember any of this?’
She sucked in a slow breath and looked away.
He caught her chin in his hand and forced her to look at him, his steady gaze demanding an answer. ‘Dio, you really don’t remember?’
Ruby had no choice but to come clean. ‘No. sometimes I...sleepwalk.’
His brows hit his hairline. ‘You sleepwalk? How often is sometimes?’
‘Not for a while, to my knowledge. It only happens when I’m...distressed.’
His frown intensified. ‘You found last night distressing?’
‘Being tied up and kept prisoner? No, that was a picnic in the park.’ She tugged at her ankle restraint. ‘And now I’m tied up again.’
‘It was for your own good. After I put the restraint on, you stopped making a run for it. I think secretly you liked it.’ His fingers caressed along her jaw, his eyes lowering to her lips.
Instantly the mood changed, thickened with sensual promise. ‘I’m not into bondage.’ Or sex with playboys, or anyone for that matter!
‘How do you know? Have you ever tried it?’
‘No. But I’ve never jumped off a cliff either, and I’m certain I wouldn’t enjoy that experience.’
‘Fair point. For the record, I have. With the right equipment, all experiences can be extremely enjoyable. Exhilarating even.’
She watched, terrified and mesmerised, as his head started to lower. ‘What are you doing?’
‘I’m kissing you bon giornu, bedda. Relax.’
That was easier said than done when every nerve in her body was strained in anticipation of the touch of his mouth on hers. She told herself she was sluggish because she was sleep deprived. But it was a lie.
As much as she yearned to deny it, she wanted the pressure of his demanding kiss and the heady racing of her blood through her veins.
His moan as he deepened the kiss echoed the piercing need inside her.
One hand clamped on her hip, drew her sideways into him. At the sensation of his sleep-warmed body against hers, she moaned. The fact that she was clothed from neck to hip and he was clothed from hip to ankle didn’t alter the stormy sensation of their bodies meshing together.
Nipples, stung to life at the touch of his mouth on hers, peaked and ached as they brushed his chest.
When his hand moved under the T-shirt and skimmed over her panties, Ruby jerked at the vicious punch of desire that threatened to flatten her.
She was drowning. And she didn’t want to be rescued.
‘Dio mio, you’re addictive, bedda,’ he murmured against her mouth before plunging back in. His tongue shot between her lips to slide against hers. He staked his claim on her until she couldn’t think straight. Even when his mouth left hers to nibble along her jaw, she strained closer, her hand sliding up his chest in a bold caress that shocked and thrilled her at the same time.
When her nail grazed his nipple, he hissed. Stunned at the surge of power that action gave her, she flicked her nail again.
‘Careful, amante, or I might have to repay the kindness.’
Lost in a swirl of desire, she barely heeded the warning. Bringing up her other hand between them, she flicked both flat nipples at once.
‘Maledizione!’ He pushed her back onto the bed and yanked up her T-shirt.
Danger shrieked in her head a second before his mouth closed over her nipple. Tonguing, licking, he pulled the willing flesh deep into his mouth.
Sensation as she’d never felt before tore through her. Between her legs where her need burned fiercest, liquid heat fuelled her raging desire.
Her fingers curled up and spiked into his hair as he transferred his attention to her other nipple. A little rougher than before, he used his teeth this time.
Her tiny scream echoed through the bedroom as her head slammed back against the pillow.
Feeling his thick arousal against her thigh, she moved her leg, eager to rub closer against the potent evidence of his need.
The snap of the ankle rope broke through her haze. The reality of what she was doing hit Ruby with the force of a two-by-four.
‘No!’ She pushed at his shoulders until he lifted his head. The sight of her nipples, reddened and wet from his ministrations, made dismay slither through her in equal measures. She was nothing like her parents. Nothing—
‘What’s wrong, bedda?’ he grated huskily.
‘What’s wrong? Everything!’
‘Everything is a huge undertaking. Narrow it down for me a little. I’ll take care of it.’
She pushed harder. ‘For a start. Get. Off. Me.’
His nostrils flared with displeasure and his fingers bit into her hip. ‘You were moaning your willingness a moment ago.’
‘Thankfully, I’ve come to my senses. Get off me and take off that...shackle you’ve placed on my ankle.’
He slowly levered himself off her but not before she got another sensation of his thick arousal. Flames rushed up her cheeks.
Back in his previous position, he dropped his gaze from hers to her breasts. Realising she was still exposed, she yanked her bra cups into place and tugged down the T-shirt. A T-shirt that bore his unique scent, which chose that moment to wash over her again. As if she weren’t suffering enough.
‘I don’t like women who blow hot and cold, tesoro.’
‘Where I come from a woman still has the right to say no.’
‘A stance I fully respect. Except your actions and your words are at direct variance with each other. You crave me almost as much as I crave you. I can only conclude that this is a ploy to string me along until I’m too whipped to put up much protest against your demands.’
Again his description of her behaviour struck painfully close to the bone, pushing all her fears to the fore. Struggling to hide it, she raised an eyebrow.
‘Wow, you really have a low opinion of yourself, don’t you? Or is that a high opinion on my sexual prowess?’
‘Unlike you, I’m not afraid to admit my desire for you. It’s almost enough to tempt me to tell you to name your price so we can be done with this...aperitivo and get to the main course.’ There was a hard bite to his voice that instinctively warned her to do that would be a mistake.
