Melanie Milburne Bestseller Collection 201209/The Marcolini Blackmail Marriage/Bound by the Marcolini Diamonds

by MELANIE MILBURNE

  Sabrina felt sudden tears thicken her throat as he turned away from her to refresh his drink. The tension in his back and shoulders made her regret her childish response to his act of thoughtfulness. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said softly. ‘It was wrong of me to be so ungrateful. I realise you were only trying to be helpful.’

  Mario turned to face her. ‘You are not used to people being kind to you, are you, tesore mio?’

  Sabrina brushed at her prickling eyes with the back of her hand. ‘I’m sorry for being so … so emotional right now.’

  He put down his drink and came over to where she was sitting, hunkering down in front of her like he would a small child. His eyes were soft as they held hers, his fingers as he stroked her tear-stained cheek even softer. ‘You are not the one who should be apologising for anything, Sabrina,’ he said. ‘We have both been through a dreadful time. It is to be expected that we will have shifts of mood in these early days and months of grief.’

  ‘I know.’ She gave a deep, shuddering sigh. ‘I know …’

  Mario traced a fingertip over her trembling bottom lip. Again he was amazed at how soft and pillowy her mouth was. He ached to feel it under his, but he knew where it would lead if he kissed her again. She had affected him much more than he had realised; that bitter-sweet taste of her had left him wanting in a way he had never wanted before. His body throbbed to feel her moist warmth again, but she was shy and hesitant around him, and he could hardly blame her for it. He had treated her appallingly. He loathed recalling some of the things he had said to her; doing so made his guilt all the harder to bear. He had done his best to make it up to her, but she seemed to be offended no matter what he did. Most women would have been mollified with gifts of jewellery and designer clothes, but she had turned her freckled, retroussé nose up at them.

  He had lain awake the last few nights thinking of how he had hurt her. She was so petite, it tortured him to think of what damage he might have done. He had brutalised her in his savage desire for satiation, arrogantly assuming she was with him all the way when she had probably not even been aware of what she had been doing, nor what she had been communicating. Her instincts had taken over and he had exploited them.

  ‘You have such a soft mouth,’ he said. ‘Do you realise I have never seen you smile at me?’

  She gave him a tentative half-smile. ‘Really?’

  He smiled back. ‘Really.’

  She shifted her gaze from his, her mouth turning down at the corners. ‘I guess I haven’t had all that much to smile about just lately.’

  Mario got to his feet and, taking one of her hands, pulled her up to stand in front of him. He slid his hands down the length of her arms, relishing the silky feel of her smooth skin, his groin tightening in response. He held himself away from her, not wanting to reveal how turned on he was in case she was frightened. She looked up at him with her clear grey eyes, and he felt something move inside his chest, like a lever being shifted to a position it had never been in before.

  The silence swelled and swelled, making the air thick, heavy and drugging.

  Mario’s gaze went to her mouth, his heart rate picking up its pace as he saw her moisten her lips with the tip of her tongue. He felt the blood surge in his veins, the primal urge to feel her against his hardness too much for him to withstand. He muttered a short, sharp imprecation and then lowered his mouth to hers.

  CHAPTER NINE

  SABRINA melted against him as his kiss deepened, the movement of his tongue against hers unlocking every vertebra of her spine. Her legs felt woolly, and her belly did crazy zigzags, like a Buick on black ice, as his hands found the small of her back and pressed her up close to his erection. Her body burned at the intimate contact; it felt like f lames were leaping beneath her skin, scorching her in every secret place. The feminine heart of her began to ache with an on-off pulse, a deep, throbbing ache that she knew instinctively no one could ever satisfy but him.

  His kiss became more and more urgent as she laced her arms around his neck, his tongue calling hers into a fast-paced tango. Electric sensations danced along her skin, her chest wall reverberating with the pounding of her racing heart.

  He tasted so fresh and so arrantly male, his unshaven skin scraping her tender face as he angled his head to change position. The kiss this time was slower, tantalisingly so. Sabrina could feel herself being swept away on a sensual tide of longing so intense she felt as if her body had completely taken over her mind. There was no room for rational thought, her body had already decided what it wanted and was doing everything in its power to communicate it to him. She nipped at his bottom lip with her teeth, gently, playfully, teasingly, until he growled deep in his throat and did the same to her. Shivers cascaded down her spine as his strong white teeth captured her kiss-swollen lip, his tongue sweeping over it before his teeth made her his slave again.

  Sabrina felt his hands move from her lower back to skate up her sides, resting just beneath the gentle swell of her breasts. Her nipples tingled in excitement, the puckered flesh pressing against the lace of her bra, desperate for the hot, sweet suck of his mouth and the lick and glide of his raspy male tongue.

  She gave a little whimper when his thumbs brushed over her, his mouth still commandeering hers. Her heart thundered in her chest, the drum beat of her pulse roaring in her ears like the tumultuous waves of a wild ocean.

  Mario lifted his mouth from hers and looked down at her with eyes blazing with desire. ‘This might be a good time to stop,’ he said. ‘Before things get out of hand.’

  Sabrina’s body felt cold and unstable without the solid prop of his. His hands were now holding her by the upper arms, but she longed for the hot press of his body against hers. She swallowed the ropey lump of disappointment in her throat, her spirits wilting at the realisation of how easy it was for him to release her. His desire for her was a transient, controllable thing, unlike hers, which had reduced her almost to the point of begging.

  ‘I suppose your mistress might not be too happy about you sleeping with your wife as well as her.’ She spoke her thoughts out loud.

  His eyes studied hers. It seemed a decade before he spoke. ‘You know, for a moment there I thought you sounded jealous.’

  Sabrina felt her colour rise but raised her chin regardless. ‘I don’t want to be laughed at by everyone.’

  ‘No one is laughing at you, cara mia.’

  Tears burned like acid at the back of her eyes. ‘Stop calling me that,’ she said, desperately trying to control the wobble of her chin. ‘Please don’t make fun of me. I can’t bear it.’

  Mario’s hands moved from her upper arms to encircle her wrists, his fingers overlapping each other. ‘What is this about, Sabrina? What is it really about?’

  Her throat moved up and down as if she was shuffling through the words before she spoke them. ‘I’m not sure …’

  ‘Look at me.’

  She slowly raised her eyes to his, her bottom lip quivering ever so slightly.

  ‘I do not have a mistress right now,’ he said.

  Her pupils went wide, like black saucers. ‘Y-you don’t?’

  He gave her a rueful smile. ‘No, tesore mio. But perhaps it would be a good idea if I did, for then I would not be so tempted to sleep with you.’

  She licked her blood-red lips with a quick dart-like movement of her tongue. ‘You’re …’ She swallowed again. ‘You’re … tempted? Really?’

  He stroked the undersides of her small wrists with the pads of his thumbs, watching as her whole body reacted. He felt her faint shiver, saw the way the grey pools of her eyes darkened, and the way her pulse leapt and fluttered beneath his touch. ‘I am sorely tempted, but I swore I would not touch you again,’ he said. ‘A promise is a promise, even if it was only to myself.’

  There was a pregnant pause.

  ‘What if …?’ She moistened her mouth again before continuing, ‘What if I wanted you to sleep with me?’

  Mario drew in a long breath, holding it for a few
beats before releasing it, along with her wrists. He put some distance between them, dragging a hand through his hair, searching for patience, strength, resolve. ‘Sabrina … you don’t know what you are asking.’

  ‘I think I do,’ she said quietly.

  He looked at her again, his heart feeling as if a clamp was pressing the sides together. It seemed strange to him how young she seemed now, when only weeks ago he had thought her so streetwise and worldly. How could he have been so blind? She was so innocent; she didn’t know what the hell she was getting in to by asking him to be her lover. She was vulnerable and sweet, and he would be a cad to have a short-term ‘affair’ with her. She wasn’t the affair type. ‘Sabrina …’ He finger-combed his hair again. ‘Cara, listen to me.’

  Her limpid eyes began to glisten. ‘It’s all right,’ she said stiffly, turning her back to him as she moved to the other side of the room. ‘I understand, really I do. I’m not your type. You’ve made it clear right from the start.’

  Mario swore in both English and Italian, a perverse part of him pleased at how she flinched as the words cut the air. ‘For God’s sake, Sabrina, you are still in my mind a virgin.’

  ‘I wasn’t aware it was something to be ashamed of.’

  ‘Of course it’s nothing to be ashamed of,’ he said. ‘You should be proud of it, especially in this day and age.’

  She turned to look at him. ‘If you don’t mind, I think I will give dinner a miss. I’m not hungry.’

  Mario swore again, this time under his breath. ‘Sulking is for small children, Sabrina.’

  She put her chin up at him. ‘You think I’m in a sulk?’

  ‘I think you are young and vulnerable and in way over your head, tesore mio,’ he said, with a crooked smile to soften the words.

  She set her mouth so tightly he could see brackets of strain around the soft lips he had kissed only minutes ago. ‘I guess I’ll see you in the morning,’ she said, her shoulders slumping as she made to move past.

  Mario placed one of his hands on the cup of her shoulder, holding her in place. ‘Don’t run away, Sabrina,’ he said gently. ‘Stay with me. Talk to me.’

  Her bottom lip trembled slightly and her white, even teeth sank down to steady it. Her eyes skittered away from his, her cheeks flushed with colour.

  Mario cupped the nape of her neck with his palm, his fingers tangling in her silky hair, tying her to him. ‘Look at me, Sabrina,’ he commanded again, softly this time.

  She raised her eyes to his, her tone short and self-deprecating. ‘I’m sorry for embarrassing you. But I guess you must be pretty used to women falling all over themselves to sleep with you.’

  He brushed his thumb over the pouting protrusion of her bottom lip. ‘Firstly, I am not at all embarrassed, and secondly, I do not have as many women in my life as you might think. If I did everything the press said I did, I would not have any time for my work.’

  Her eyes moved away from his again. ‘You say you don’t have a current mistress, but I’m guessing it won’t be long before you do.’

  Mario studied her features for a long moment. She had lilac thumbprint-like shadows beneath her eyes, and her brow was networked with fine lines of uncertainty. He had become so used to a certain arrogant confidence in all his previous partners, he had not thought anything of it until now. Now all he wanted was the shy innocence of Sabrina. He ached for it—for her hesitant touch, for her sweet-but-feverish kisses and the feminine pulse of her body against his. He wanted to claim her as his, to tutor her in the wild, secret world of her sensuality, to fill her with his hardness, to spill himself as she convulsed around him. His body leapt at the thought, his blood rocketing through his veins, surging to his loins until he was throbbing with need.

  He clenched his teeth, fighting the temptation, but it was impossible to ignore the magnetic pull of her body so close to his.

  ‘Is … is everything all right?’ she asked in a voice so soft he had to strain to hear it.

  ‘No,’ he said gruffly as he took her by the hips and pulled her up against him.

  Her eyes flared as she felt him. ‘I—I thought you said—?’

  ‘Forget what I said,’ he growled as he bent his head to hers. ‘Forget the hell what I said.’

  Sabrina stifled a gasp as his mouth seared hers, the hot urgency of it sweeping her up into a maelstrom of heady sensation. Desire licked along her veins like a river of fire, lightning-fast, lightning-hot and equally electrifying. His fingers dug into her hips, holding her tighter against his hot, hard need. Her body quivered at the intimate contact, the outline of his erection making her legs weaken.

  His mouth continued its sensual assault, his tongue stroking and stabbing at hers simultaneously, drawing her into a whirlpool of wanting that was uncontrollable. Her tongue danced with his, darting and diving to evade, and then licking and stroking to cajole. He responded by kissing her harder and deeper, his lower body grinding against hers as the pressure built.

  His hands moved from her hips to slide up her ribcage and possess her breasts, the warm cup of his palms making the pores of her flesh stand up in goose bumps of excitement. Her spine felt as if it had been injected with warm, smooth honey, her limbs equally malleable, as his mouth moved from hers to the scaffold of her collarbone. She shivered as his lips whispered over her sensitive skin, every nerve arching its back to feel more of his touch.

  ‘I told myself I wasn’t going to do this,’ he said. ‘I promised myself.’

  Sabrina felt another shiver dance over her skin as his lips moved against her neck when he spoke. ‘It’s all right,’ she said on a breathless gasp. ‘I’m a big girl now.’

  He brushed her mouth with a hard, possessive kiss, his dark eyes hooded and brooding. ‘I’m afraid I’ll hurt you again.’

  Sabrina felt his erection thick and swollen against her, making her insides melt like candle wax. ‘You won’t hurt me,’ she whispered against his mouth. ‘I am sure you won’t.’

  He kissed her again, deeply and lingeringly, exploring every contour of her mouth before he moved his lips to the breast he had deftly uncovered. His mouth closed over one puckered nipple, sucking on her hungrily, before he circled her with his tongue. Pleasure ricocheted through her like gunfire, piercing the sound barrier. Waves of feeling washed over her, tossing her about until she was clinging to him like a raft.

  ‘We need to go upstairs,’ he said, and lifted her off her feet.

  ‘Put me down,’ Sabrina protested. ‘I’m too heavy.’

  ‘You weigh next to nothing,’ he said, and carried her out of the room and up the sweeping staircase.

  Sabrina linked her arms around his neck, her belly feeling as if a hundred tiny fists were trying to punch their way out. She breathed in his scent; the exotic spices of his aftershave mixed with the essence of his maleness made her nostrils flare in excitement. Nervousness and anticipation were jostling for position inside her, making her feel dizzy and light-headed at the thought of finally being possessed by him. Her body was preparing itself, the moist dew of desire already secretly anointing her, the deep throb of her inner core like a low, deep drum-beat.

  Mario shouldered open his bedroom-suite door, kicking it shut with his foot once they were inside. He let her slide down his body as he set her down, his eyes searing hers with passionate promise. ‘Are you sure this is what you want?’ he asked. ‘It’s not too late to change your mind.’

  Sabrina snatched in a scratchy breath. ‘I want you, Mario. I want you to make love to me.’

  His gaze darkened to a black, bottomless pool of desire. ‘I wanted you the moment I met you,’ he said as he walked her backwards to the bed, slowly, inexorably.

  ‘I—I know,’ she said shakily, her thighs bumping against his.

  He ran his hands down her arms, entrapping her wrists as her knees came up against the mattress. There was a primitive element to his hold, a heated charge of energy she could feel passing from his body to hers. His body simmered with it; hers fe
lt like it was boiling.

  He slowly undressed her, kissing her flesh as it was revealed to him until she was standing in just her bra and knickers, her skin tingling wherever his lips had burned and branded her as his. ‘Now you get to undress me,’ he said with a smouldering look that lifted every hair on her scalp.

  Sabrina’s fingers fumbled with the buttons on his shirt, but somehow she got them undone. She tugged it out of his trousers and slid it off his broad shoulders, pausing to kiss his bronzed f lesh, tasting the saltiness of him, relishing in the feel of his sculptured muscles under the soft press of her fingertips. Her lips brushed against his hard, flat nipples, her tongue sweeping and curling over him, her belly turning over in excitement when he groaned in pleasure.

  Her fingers came to the waistband of his trousers. She glanced up at him shyly, wondering if she had the courage to follow through. His eyes glittered darkly with expectation, and she took a shallow breath and unhooked his belt from its buckle, slowly pulling it through until it dropped to the floor with a serpent-like slither.

  ‘You are in control, Sabrina,’ Mario said, although it sounded rough and uneven. ‘Any time you want to stop, you stop.’

  Sabrina traced the pathway of masculine hair from his belly button to his waistband with her fingers, delighting in the taut flatness of his abdomen, the ridged muscles contracting even more at her touch. ‘I don’t want to stop,’ she said lightly, skating her fingertips over the tenting of his trousers.

  She heard him suck in a harsh breath, his body whipcord-tight as she continued stroking him, exploring the length and breadth of him through the barrier of his clothes.

  One of his hands came over hers, holding her against him as he fought for control. ‘Give me a moment,’ he bit out.

  Sabrina looked up at him in alarm. ‘Am I doing something wrong?’