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It was her turn to suck in a breath when he moved down her body to stroke her with his lips and tongue. She felt the fizzing of her nerves as he brought her closer and closer. Her release started far away, and then gathered speed and stampeded through her flesh. She lost herself in a whirlpool of sensation that made her feel weightless and boneless.
She opened her eyes to find him looking at her as he stroked a lazy finger down between her breasts. ‘Do you want to finish me off with your hand?’ he asked.
She gave him a little frown. ‘Don’t you want to come inside me?’
‘I don’t want to hurt you,’ he said, gently circling one of her nipples. ‘You might still be sore.’
She stroked her hand down his lean stubbly jaw. ‘I want you inside me,’ she said. ‘I want you.’
His eyes held hers in a sensual lock that made her belly quiver. ‘I’ll take it easy,’ he said. ‘Tell me to stop if it hurts.’
‘It’s not as if I’m a virgin, Angelo,’ she said, with a brittle little laugh to cover her unexpected emotional response to his tenderness. ‘I can handle everything you dish out.’
His eyes smouldered as they held hers. ‘Don’t say you weren’t warned,’ he said, and covered her mouth with his.
Angelo lay on his side and watched Natalie sleep. From time to time he would pick up a silky strand of her hair and twirl it around one of his fingers.
She didn’t stir.
Her stubborn refusal to open her heart to him was like a thorn in his flesh. It was as if she would do anything to stop him thinking she cared about him. He thought back to their break-up, to how she had announced without warning that she was leaving. Her bags had been packed when he’d come home from a three-day workshop in Wales. She had told him she had slept with someone she had met at the local pub. He had stood there in dumbstruck silence, wondering if she was joking.
Their relationship had been volatile at times, but he hadn’t really thought she was serious about walking out on him. She had threatened to many times, but he had always thought it was just her letting off steam. He had planned to ask her to marry him that very night. He had wanted to wait until he got back from the workshop so she would have had time to think about how much she had missed him. But then she had shown him a photo on her phone, of her with a man, sitting at the bar, smiling over their drinks. The anger he had felt at seeing the evidence of her betrayal had been like a hot red dust storm in front of his eyes. She had stood there, looking at him with a what-are-you-going-to-do-about-it-look and he had snapped.
He wasn’t proud of the words he had flailed her with. He was even more ashamed that he’d pushed her up against the wall like a cheap hooker and given her a bruising parting kiss that had left both of them bleeding.
He shuffled through his thoughts as he looked at her lying next to him like a sleeping angel.
She had wanted him to believe she had betrayed him.
But why?
Hadn’t he shown her how much he had loved her? He had said it enough times and shown it in a thousand different ways. She had never taken him seriously. Funny that, since she took life so seriously herself. She rarely smiled unless it was a self-effacing one. He couldn’t remember ever hearing her laugh other than one of those totally fake cackles that grated on his nerves because he knew them for the tawdry imitation they were.
Why had she been so desperate to get him out of her life?
He was still frowning when she opened her eyes and stretched like a cat. ‘What time is it?’ she asked.
‘You didn’t do it, did you?’ he asked.
A puzzled flicker passed through her gaze. ‘Do what?’
‘You didn’t sleep with that guy from the bar.’
She made a business of sitting upright and covering herself with a portion of the sheet. ‘I went home with him,’ she said after a moment.
‘But you didn’t sleep with him,’ he said. ‘You wanted me to think you had. You wanted me to believe that because you knew me well enough to know I would never have let you go for anything less.’
A tiny muscle began tapping in her cheek and her eyes took on a defensive sheen. ‘I wasn’t ready for commitment. You were pressuring me to settle down. I didn’t want to lose my freedom. I didn’t want to lose my identity and become some nameless rich man’s husband just like my mother.’
‘You’re nothing like your mother, cara,’ he said. ‘You’re too strong and feisty for that.’
She got off the bed and wrapped herself in a silky wrap. ‘I don’t always feel strong,’ she said. ‘Sometimes I feel …’ Her teeth sank into her bottom lip.
‘What do you feel?’
She turned to the dressing table and picked up a brush, started pulling it through her hair. ‘I feel hungry,’ she said. She put the brush down and swung around to face him. ‘What does a girl have to do around here to get a meal?’
Angelo knew it wasn’t wise to push her. He had to be patient with her. She was feeling vulnerable and had retreated back to her default position. It was her way of protecting herself.
He only wished he had known that five years ago.
Natalie sat across from Angelo in a restaurant in Sorrento an hour later. He had given her the choice of eating in or out and she had chosen to go out. It wasn’t that she particularly wanted to mingle with other people; it was more that she wanted to keep her head when around him. She couldn’t do that so well when she was alone with him.
The passion they had shared had stirred up old longings that made her feel uneasy. She was fine with having sex with him—more than fine, truth be told. It was just she knew he would want more from her.
He had always wanted more than she was prepared to give.
How long before he would ask her to think about staying with him indefinitely? Then he would start talking about babies.
His mother had already dropped a few broad hints when she had helped her choose her wedding dress. Natalie’s stomach knotted at the thought of being responsible for a tiny infant. She could just imagine how her parents would react if she were to tell them she was having a baby. Her mother would reach for the nearest bottle and drain it dry. Her father wouldn’t say a word. He would simply raise his eyebrows and a truckload of guilt would land on her like a concrete slab.
Angelo reached across the table and touched her lightly on the back of her hand. ‘Hello, over there,’ he said with a soft smile.
Natalie gave him a rueful smile in return. ‘Sorry … I’m hardly scintillating company, am I?’
‘I don’t expect you to be the life of the party all the time, cara,’ he said. ‘It’s enough that you’re here.’
She looked at his fingers entwined with hers. She had missed his touch so much in the years that had passed. She had missed the way his skin felt against hers, the way he felt under the caress of her hands. She had lain awake at night with her body crying out for his lovemaking. Her body had felt so empty. So lifeless without the sensual energy he shot through it like an electric charge.
‘What are you thinking?’ he asked, stroking the underside of her wrist with the broad pad of his thumb.
She met his chocolate-brown gaze and felt her insides flex and contract with lust. ‘Do you want dessert?’ she asked.
‘Depends on what it is,’ he said with a sexy glint.
She could barely sit still in her chair for the rocket blast of longing that swept through her. ‘I’m not in the mood for anything sweet,’ she said.
‘What are you in the mood for?’ Still that same sexy glitter was lighting his eyes from behind.
‘Nothing that takes too much time to prepare.’
‘I can be a fast order chef when the need arises,’ he said. ‘Tell me what you want and I’ll deliver it as fast as humanly possible.’
Natalie shivered as he came behind her to pull out her chair for her. The fine hairs on the back of her neck stood up as his warm wine-scented breath coasted past her ear. She leaned back against him, just for a brief moment, to see if he was aroused.
He was.
She smiled to herself and walked out of the restaurant with him, her body already quaking in anticipation.
Angelo had barely opened the door of the villa when she slammed him up against the wall as if she was about to frisk him.
‘Hey, was it something I said?’ he asked.
Her dark blue gaze sizzled as it held his. ‘You promised me dessert,’ she said. ‘It’s time to serve me.’
The entire length of his backbone shuddered as she ran her hand over his erection. ‘Who’s doing the cooking here?’ he asked.
She gave him a wicked look and brazenly unzipped him. ‘I want an appetiser,’ she said.
It was all he could do to stand there upright as she sank to her knees in front of him. He braced himself by standing with his feet slightly apart. When she was in this mood there was no stopping her. He was just happy to be taken along for the ride.
And what a ride it was.
Fireworks went off in his head. He couldn’t have held back if he had tried. She ruthlessly teased and caressed him until he was barely able to stand upright. His skin went up in a layer of goosebumps and his heart raced like a fat retiree at a fun run.
She stood up and gave him a wanton smile that had a hint of challenge to it. ‘Top that,’ she said.
‘I can do that,’ he said, and swept her up in his arms.
He took her to the master suite. He dropped her in the middle of the mattress and then pulled her by one ankle until she was right between his spread thighs. He leaned over her, breathing in her scent, his mouth coming down to claim her in a sensual feast that had her shuddering in seconds. She bucked and arched and screamed, and even batted at him with her fists, but he wouldn’t let her go until he was satisfied that he had drawn every last shuddering gasp out of her.
She lay back and flung a hand over her eyes, her chest rising and falling. ‘OK, you win,’ she said breathlessly.
‘It was pretty damn close,’ he said, coming to lie next to her. He trailed a finger down the length of her satin-smooth arm. ‘Maybe we should have a re-match some time soon, just to make sure?’
She rolled her head to look at him. ‘Give me ten minutes.’
‘Five.’
‘You’re insatiable.’
‘Only with you.’
A tiny frown puckered her brow and she turned her head back to look at the ceiling. ‘Have there been many?’ she asked after a pause.
‘Does it matter?’
She gave a careless shrug, but the tight set of her expression contradicted it. ‘Not really.’
‘I was never in love with anyone, if that’s what you’re asking.’
‘I’m not.’
He sent his fingertip over the silky smooth cup of her shoulder. ‘Is it so hard to admit you care for me?’ he said.
She shoved his hand away and got off the bed. ‘I knew you would do this,’ she said in agitation.
‘What did I do?’
She turned and speared him with her gaze. ‘I don’t love you,’ she said. ‘Is there something about those words you don’t understand? I don’t love you. I like you. I like you a lot. You’re a nice person. I’ve never met a more decent person. But I’m not in love with you.’
Frustration made Angelo’s voice grate. ‘You don’t want to love anyone, that’s why. You do care, Tatty. You care so much it scares the hell out of you.’
She clenched her fists by her sides. ‘I can’t give you what you want,’ she said.
‘I want you.’
‘You want more,’ she said. ‘You’ve said it from the beginning. You want a family. You want children. I can’t give you them.’
‘Are you infertile?’
She rolled her eyes heavenwards and turned away. ‘I knew you wouldn’t understand.’
He came over to her and took her by the upper arms. ‘Then make me understand,’ he said.
She pressed her lips together, as if she was trying to stop an outburst of unchecked speech from escaping.
He gave her arms a gentle squeeze. ‘Talk to me, Tatty.’
Her eyes watered and she blinked a couple of times to push the tears back. ‘What sort of mother would I be?’ she asked.
‘You’d be a wonderful mother.’
‘I’d be a total nutcase,’ she said, pulling away from him. ‘I’d probably be one of those helicopter parents everyone talks about. I would never be able to relax. So much can happen to a child. There’s so much danger out there: illness, accidents, sick predators on the streets and online. It’s all too much to even think about.’
‘Most parents manage to bring up their children without anything horrible happening to them,’ he said. ‘It’s easy to look at what’s reported in the press and think that the danger is widespread and unavoidable, but you’re disregarding all the positive parenting experiences that are out there.’
‘I just don’t want to go there,’ she said. ‘You can’t make me. No one can make me. You can’t force me to get pregnant.’
‘I sure hope you’re on the pill, then, because I haven’t always used protection.’
‘Did you do that deliberately?’ she asked with a hardened look.
‘No, of course not,’ he said. ‘You were on the pill in the past … I just assumed … OK, maybe I shouldn’t have. I’m clear, if that’s what’s worrying you.’
‘Yes, well, so am I,’ she said. ‘It’s not like I’ve been out there much just lately.’
‘Have you been “out there” at all?’
She tried to look casual about it, but he saw her nibble at the inside of her mouth. ‘A couple of times,’ she said.
‘What happened?’
She gave him a withering look. ‘I’m not going to discuss my sex life with you.’
‘Did you have sex?’
She looked away. ‘It wasn’t great sex,’ she said. ‘More of a token effort, really. I don’t even remember the guy’s name.’
