Marriage Made of Secrets

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Marriage Made of Secrets Page 12

by Maya Blake


  But, as much as he wanted to rip her panties off, spread her open on the wide limo seat and pleasure them both until one of them passed out, he couldn’t.

  There’s nothing wrong with kissing, his insistent body clamoured. He deepened the kiss, letting his mouth perform the task his body couldn’t be allowed to. Ava’s mouth opened wider, her tongue growing bolder in its own exploration.

  A dark thought seeped into his mind. Fighting the blackness, he wrenched his lips from hers.

  ‘You never answered me when I asked if there’d been anyone else. I need to know.’

  ‘Why, so you can go growl at them the way you did with Mario tonight?’

  Irrational jealousy he’d experienced earlier returned. He planted a hard kiss on her lips, determined to wipe the feeling away with the smooth sweep of his tongue.

  ‘Mario has been left in no doubt as to the consequences should he ever dare to come within three feet of you again.’ He hesitated a beat. ‘Ava?’

  Mesmerising green eyes held his. ‘I’m still a married woman. I take my vows very seriously.’ She sniffed, and her eyes darkened. ‘Has there been for you?’

  He shook his head. ‘We’re still married, mia amante. I would never dishonour you in that way.’

  Her eyes darkened and her swollen lower lip trembled. ‘How can you say things like that to me and expect me not to have hope for us?’

  His insides clenched. ‘Ava...’

  ‘For God’s sake, shut up, Cesare. Just...shut up and kiss me.’

  He didn’t need to be told twice.

  Lust thundering forcefully through him, he went deeper. She was all fire now, voracious and demanding, her hands frantic as they grasped his nape, grabbed his hair and twisted it between her fingers. His heart tore around his chest like a crazed animal. When her full breasts pressed against his chest, he nearly lost his mind.

  His hand moved to her back, encountered sleek, smooth flesh. He pulled back, sucked in a deep breath and watched her fight for breath too. The sight of her moistened, kiss-swollen lips made him groan.

  ‘What?’ she asked huskily. Her fingers still worked through his hair, scraped his scalp. He’d never have imagined such a simple gesture could be erotic, but the fierce throb of his erection indicated otherwise.

  ‘We’ve arrived at the apartment.’

  It took a few seconds for his words to register. In that suspended time, he basked in her warm supple body plastered against him.

  Eyes widening, she sprang away from him. The loss was a fist in his gut. She reached for his jacket and settled it around her shoulders and, oddly, Cesare felt comforted that she had a part of him on her. He toyed with asking Paolo to take them on a long drive out of the city but already the door was opening.

  She stepped out, exhibiting an obscene amount of leg, and her bare feet made him want to growl some more.

  He carried her shoes and trailed her into the building. He’d chosen to lead a separate life away from his wife and child because he hadn’t thought he had what it took to be a husband and father. He’d drifted through each day, doing what needed to be done—making deals, making more money, taking financial care of his parents.

  Now he was hyperaware of every passing minute, of every atom of his being poised on a knife-edge of sharp focus. Focus on the woman in front of him, her stunning body and shapely backside swaying underneath his jacket as she strode towards the lift on the balls of her bare feet.

  Inside the lift, he caught her to him but didn’t kiss her. If he started he wouldn’t be able to stop.

  Once they were inside the apartment, he kicked the door shut with his foot and reached for her. What he grabbed instead was his jacket, held out by Ava with a determined look on her face.

  ‘Come here,’ he commanded, every muscle tight with need.

  She raised her chin, exposing the satin neck that sent his pulse sky-high. ‘No.’

  Shock froze him in place. ‘Che?’

  She remained defiant and out of reach. ‘I won’t sleep with you just because you’ve decided that you want me again.’

  He prowled towards her. She backed away, making him want to pounce on her. He cautioned himself not to. ‘Again? Hell, haven’t we proved conclusively that I’ve never stopped wanting you? Dio, you only have to walk into a room to make me rock-hard for you.’

  Heat bloomed in her cheeks, appeasing him somewhat. As did her soft lips parting on a breath. The fierce shake of her head, however, plunged him back towards supreme frustration. Again he tried to reach for her. Again she danced out of his reach. Irritation sizzled through him.

  ‘As hot as that was intended to make me—’

  ‘Did I succeed?’

  The rapid rise and fall of her breasts gave him his answer. ‘I’m not going to fall into bed with you, Cesare.’

  She shook out his jacket like a matador trying to distract a raging bull. He ignored it and focused on his prize. Another step brought him closer to her. He breathed in her scent and acknowledged that his need for her was beyond his own understanding.

  And he was infinitely weary of twisting himself into knots about it.

  ‘Tell me you don’t want me, mia sposa.’

  ‘You know I do, but I won’t let you toy with me. What happened to—this is as far as you’re ever going to get?’

  Unwelcome heat crawled up his neck. For a man who had a superb command of words, he couldn’t compose a suitable answer aside from the pure, unadulterated truth. ‘We both know that bikini should’ve come with a skull and crossbones warning. I was angry with you for killing me with temptation and wasn’t quite myself when I uttered those words.’ Having Ava taunt him with her body when he’d been fighting his desire had been the last straw. He hadn’t liked being held on the knife-edge of control, as he’d been right from the beginning with her.

  ‘And now you’ve just decided to hell with it?’

  Stalking away from her, he tore off his constricting tie and tossed it away. ‘I haven’t decided anything! What I do know is that you’re driving me crazy and...’ His fist clenched. ‘Dammit, Ava, you flaunted yourself so blatantly.’

  ‘Well, you’re in luck. I’m not flaunting anything any more. Goodnight, Cesare.’

  At first he couldn’t comprehend what was happening. By the time the shock wore off, Ava’s deliciously tempting back had disappeared down the hall and into the guest bedroom.

  Unclenching his fist, he raked his decidedly unsteady fingers through his hair. Bravo, Cesare. He’d finally succeeded at what he’d been trying to do since Ava returned—he’d pushed her away.

  Except satisfaction tasted like ashes and thwarted lust sucked. He swore and paced the room. It was no use asking himself what he’d been thinking.

  When it came to Ava, she only had to touch him and he lost his mind. She only had to look at him with those smoky emerald eyes and his senses flamed with the promise of pleasure.

  He spotted his briefcase and his jaw tightened. He strode to it and pulled out the papers. The cold, stark words taunted him. With a simple stroke of his name along the dotted line, he could be free of this madness.

  But was that his only option?

  Ava’s words in the car struck him. From the beginning, he’d known she had a strained relationship with her own family. To all intents and purposes, he and Annabelle were the only family she had. He’d married her, only to leave her to her own devices because he’d been too caught up in his own angst to see clearly.

  Was he man enough to start now?

  His fist tightened around the papers. On a decisive thought, he ripped them in two. He’d been too long locked in his own pain for his part in Roberto’s seclusion, he hadn’t stopped to think about Ava’s needs when she married him.

  A grim smile crossed his mouth. Had Ava asked for a divorce tw
o months ago, hell, even the day before the earthquake, he probably would have granted it. But not now. He ripped the papers until they were indecipherable pieces.

  He still didn’t have it in him to offer her what she wanted, but he, if nothing else, was a damned good negotiator. There would be no divorce.

  So what now?

  Hell if he knew. He would just have to work it out later.

  CHAPTER NINE

  AVA PACED THE length of the guest room, unable to calm her frenzied pulse or her mind’s racing.

  First Cesare pushed her away, then he wanted her to fall into his arms. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to quell her body’s clamouring for what she’d stubbornly denied it. But her pulse wouldn’t quieten. The thought that she’d come within a hair’s breadth of making love to Cesare again after so long sent her pacing faster. She should be thankful she’d resisted him.

  Yeah, right.

  Truth was, she wanted to jump her husband so badly, she could barely think straight. The heat of his body, the intoxicating scent of his hard-packed muscles rose in her mind like the promise of a delectable feast after an endless famine.

  Would that be so wrong?

  She felt herself sway towards the door and dug her toes hard into the luxurious carpet. What was she thinking? Sure, he’d been shocked when she walked away from him. But he hadn’t followed. And he’s not exactly breaking down your door, is he?

  While she was in here torturing herself, he was probably enjoying the view, nightcap in hand, or halfway to securing another multi-million euro deal.

  Whirling, she stalked to the window.

  The stunning vista of night time Rome lay before her. Cesare’s penthouse apartment sat atop a converted luxury villa off Campo de Fiori and commanded views as far as the Vatican and St Peter’s Dome.

  Was he staring at the same view? Raising a hand to the window, she watched her skin heat the cool glass. The view outside faded when she caught a glimpse of herself in the reflection.

  Wild, fiery hair, tangled into shameless disarray by Cesare’s seeking hands. Her eyes were wide pools of confusion and hurt she wanted to hide away from and her lips were swollen and bruised with Cesare’s kisses. She wasn’t surprised to see her chest rise and fall as if she’d run a marathon.

  And all because of the man whose presence impacted her life and emotions as effortlessly as if she were a puppet on his string.

  Her breath rushed out, frosted the glass, distorting her view as she remembered... In the fevered chaos of the kiss and the argument that had followed, they’d never got round to talking about the solution to their problems.

  She eyed the door, then almost in a trance, her hand went to the button securing her dress at her nape. With one short fumble, it pooled at her feet. She contemplated taking a shower, but feared her resolve would desert her if she delayed for too long.

  Padding to the dresser, she picked up her hairbrush. The rhythmic strokes reinforced her strength, which in turn abated the haunted look in her eyes. She hadn’t needed a bra with her dress, but she still wore her thong. The thought of going to Cesare naked heated up her blood, but she quickly abandoned the idea.

  Crossing to the wardrobe, she selected a short forest-green silk night slip and matching gown of hers she’d found when she’d unpacked earlier. Shrugging them on, she tied the gown and quickly left the room before she lost her nerve.

  The hallway was as quiet as when she’d walked down it a short while ago. The dimmed light in the living room revealed it as empty as the kitchen and terrace.

  The idea of confronting Cesare in his bedroom sent a confidence-shaking shiver of alarm through her. Slowly, she walked towards his door and paused outside. Catching her lower lip between her teeth, she listened for sound within. What if he was asleep?

  Or, worse, he’d reverted to the cool, distant man she’d grown to hate this past year? Fear of rejection dried her mouth but she didn’t back down. Inhaling deeply, she turned the knob.

  He was lounging against the king-size bed’s intricately designed headboard, a glass of cognac in one hand and an electronic tablet in the other.

  His gaze snapped and locked on hers. Slowly he placed the glass on the nightstand.

  Ava’s eyes landed on his bare chest and hot air seared her lungs. She’d seen his naked torso many times but the sheer magnitude of his potent masculinity never ceased to raise her temperature.

  ‘To what do I owe the pleasure, cara?’

  Her tongue darted out to moisten dry lips. ‘Our talk...I want to have it...now.’

  He turned away from her, shielding his expression from her as he laid the tablet down. ‘Are you sure that’s what you come for? To talk?’ His eyes narrowed and he linked his hands together over his hard, ridged stomach. Despite his stance, he reminded her of a hunt-mode predator, ready to pounce with merciless precision.

  Her fingers clenched on the doorknob. ‘Yes.’

  He nodded, grabbed the corner of the sheet and drew it back. ‘Then, by all means, make yourself comfortable and let’s...talk.’

  She didn’t need to look to know he was naked. Cesare slept in the nude. ‘Are you...are you going to put any clothes on?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Cesare...’

  ‘I don’t know what that would achieve. I told you what happens to me when you enter my presence. Clothed or in flagrante, the effect is the same.’

  Desire punched a hole in her belly. Dangerous, treacherous desire. She needed to leave, only she couldn’t move. ‘But...’

  He sighed. ‘I don’t want to have this talk with you all the way across the room, Ava. Come here, it’s much more comfortable, I promise,’ he murmured silkily.

  She shook her head and pulled the door open, her bravado deserting her. ‘You know what? Maybe this wasn’t a great idea. It’s way past midnight and...I can’t deal with you this way. We...we both need to get some sleep. We’ll talk in the morn—’

  Quicker than she’d ever imagined it possible for him to move, he sprang off the bed, shot across the room and slammed his hand against the door. Her gasp was strangled in her throat as he pressed his hot, bristling naked length against her back.

  ‘Oh no, Ava mia. You do not get to flounce off for a second time,’ he breathed hotly in her ear.

  ‘I don’t flounce!’

  ‘No. You sway. You mesmerise. You capture and hold my attention until I feel like I’m drowning in your seductive beauty.’

  ‘I don’t know what on earth you’re talking about...’

  ‘Oh sì, you do. Or you wouldn’t be here now. I’ll give you what you want, tesoro mio. We will have that talk. But there’s a very high possibility that you’ll hate me when we do.’

  She gasped and turned within the circle of his arms. ‘Why would I hate you? You said there’d been no one else!’ A sickening feeling invaded her at the thought that he’d lied about that.

  His eyes burned into hers. ‘I meant it.’

  Relief poured through her. ‘Then what else could there possibly be? Unless you’re about to confess you’re some psycho serial killer?’

  Her comment didn’t lighten the mood as she’d expected. Instead his jaw tightened, then released. ‘I did have homicidal thoughts about Mario tonight. In fact, I had unholy thoughts about every man at the party who dared to look at you.’

  ‘I’m surprised you had a chance to notice, seeing how you were so enamoured of Giuliana’s bosom.’

  He shifted even closer until his granite-hard arousal pressed against her pelvis. He gave a low, deep laugh. ‘It seems we’ve both been clawed by the sharp talons of the green-eyed monster.’

  Pain stabbed through her desire. ‘Jealousy would imply that we care for each other, Cesare.’

  His smile slowly faded, replaced by a growing hunger as his
gaze slowly raked her face as if imprinting it on his brain. ‘Sì, it would. I never denied that I care about you, Ava.’

  ‘But only sexually?’

  ‘Don’t underestimate the power of sex, mia cara. It has brought down kingdoms and ruined powerful men.’ As if to emphasise its power, he leaned into her.

  ‘So far you’ve managed to remain untouched by it,’ she croaked.

  His thick arousal registered boldly against her belly at the same time as his mouth settled heavily over hers.

  The power of thought instantly deserted her. This kiss was nothing like they’d shared in the car. This was a full, unapologetic assault on her senses, a bold display of Cesare’s power and the firm intent of what he meant to happen between them. His tongue stroked boldly against hers, performing a dangerous dance that had only one destination.

  Heat swelled and rocketed straight to her core. The shock of how quickly her body reacted to him made her head spin, but even that reaction was ruthlessly swept aside under the torrent of need building inside her.

  Her fingers encountered Cesare’s naked torso. Her nails bit deep and she revelled in the groan that shuddered through him.

  He raised his head, his breathing harsh in the darkened room. With a quick dip, he licked her tingling lips. ‘I’m far from untouched, cara. Hasn’t it always been this way between us?’ he demanded thickly. ‘One touch and the whole world burns up?’ As if to demonstrate, he ran a lazy finger down the side of her neck.

  ‘Yes.’ Her moan brought a satisfied smile to his face.

  Bringing his hands onto her shoulders, he eased the robe from her. The gown followed, but she barely felt it slither off her arms to fall to the floor, entranced as she was by the molten heat in his eyes.

  With unsteady fingers, he traced a path from her neck, down between her breasts to her belly until he grazed the top of her thong.

  Words, murmured in Italian appreciation, tumbled from his lips.

  ‘English, please. I need to understand what you’re saying.’

  He repeated the raw, explicit words. When her face flamed, he laughed and reverted to Italian. Every syllable touched her skin like a kiss, making her limbs lust-heavy until all she could do was sag against the door as his touch drummed a beat of desire through her.

 

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