Rigo’s concern for his driver had obviously delayed their departure, so this was her chance.
‘I would not allow those people near the swimming pools,’ the housekeeper confided in Katie, ‘and the new master has chosen to swim in the indoor pool today.’
The new master? Katie thought of the crest on the arch and on the ring. Here, Rigo wasn’t Signor Ruggiero, the infamous international playboy, but someone else entirely. ‘The new master?’ she prompted.
‘Sì the housekeeper said with pride. ‘Principe Ruggiero. Principe Arrigo Ruggiero.’
Arrigo? Prince Arrigo? ‘Ah, yes, of course,’ she said. The housekeeper might think her a little slow on the uptake, but it was better to be sure of her facts. And never mind that he was a prince, it was Rigo’s state of mind Katie was most concerned about.
Thanking the housekeeper and the rest of the staff for all their help, she left the hall in search of him. She had to know he was all right. She had to let Rigo know he wasn’t alone and that she’d stay by his side until he sorted this mess out.
Katie stood in the shadows, watching Rigo power down the length of the pool. He had dropped his clothes on the side and hadn’t even stopped to turn on the light, though there was lighting in the pool. The luminous ice-blue water was a perfect frame for the dark shape slicing through it and she was fascinated by Rigo’s strength and by his magnificent body. His powerful legs pounded the water into foam, while his sculpted shoulders gleamed bronze as they broke the surface. They were the powerhouse for his punishing freestyle stroke, though every part of him was involved.
And every part of him was naked.
She should turn and walk away, but she couldn’t; she didn’t want to. She remained motionless, watching, until Rigo finally cruised to the end of the pool.
Now she really must go…
But the moment came and went and she still hadn’t moved.
Rigo sprang out. Water fell away from his hard-muscled frame. Every inch of him was in gleaming, spectacular focus. She remained riveted, staring, learning more about a man’s body than she could have imagined. Rigo naked was even more perfect than Rigo clothed…so perfect Katie’s scars tingled a reminder that she was not.
‘Signorina Bannister?’
His husky voice surrounded her. She shrank as he padded towards her. She couldn’t move. She was trapped in the beam of his stare.
‘What are you doing here?’ he demanded.
She lacked the guile to lie. ‘Watching you.’ She was careful to stare straight into his eyes, but she could feel his sexual energy invading her. She wasn’t afraid. If he had caught her without her clothes she would have been terrified, Katie realised. But shouldn’t Rigo be making some attempt to cover up? Was it possible to lack all inhibition? Her body thrilled to think all things were possible for him. But not for her, the scars on her back gave her a stinging reminder.
‘Forgive me,’ he mocked softly as he came to stand in front of her. ‘I would have worn swimming shorts had I expected a visitor.’
‘I’m sorry to intrude…’
She was about as sincere as he was. She would never forget these few minutes at the side of an unlit swimming pool. Every craving nerve she had was on fire. She would try to store that feeling. Before this she hadn’t understood that such levels of arousal were even possible. The pool lights were reflected in Rigo’s eyes, casting forbidding shadows on his rugged face. ‘I was worried about you,’ she confessed awkwardly.
‘Worried about me?’
He sounded amused. Heat grew inside her as he continued to stare at her. Why didn’t he walk away? Why didn’t she?
Because her bones had turned to honey…
She was slow to react when he moved and her heart drummed a warning, but all he wanted was the towel he’d left on a chair. Relief coursed through her when he snatched it up, but he only used it to wipe his face and left his naked body on full view.
Having dried his face, he drew the towel back over his hair and rubbed it with fluid, lazy strokes. Water-heavy hair caught on his stubble and meshed with his eyelashes, and it seemed forever before he looped the towel around his waist.
‘You were watching me for quite some time, worried signorina,’ he murmured. ‘Did you learn anything?’
His eyes were challenging and amused. It came home to her then how much older Rigo was, and how much more experienced and sophisticated. She was little more than a trembling wreck, and had no idea how to behave in these circumstances. ‘You swim well,’ she ventured.
His short laugh displayed strong white teeth and one inky black brow peaked, but his mouth remained hard and his eyes were watchful. He was fresh from the shock of discovering what had happened to his childhood home, she reminded herself, and had been swimming to exorcise those demons.
But he still had energy to burn…
‘You’re blushing,’ he said.
‘How can you see in this light?’
Reaching out, he traced the line of her cheek. ‘I can feel the heat coming off you…’
Her swift intake of breath sounded unnaturally loud. ‘It is very warm in here…’ She gazed about in a pathetic attempt to distract him.
Rigo’s low voice pulsed with intent. ‘I don’t think it’s that sort of heat I can feel. Well, signorina?’ he pressed. ‘There must be something other than my swimming technique that kept you fascinated…’
Mutely, she shook her head. It was blood heat in the leisure suite and almost dark. Just the pool lights shimmering behind her like dots of moonlight on a lake. She felt cornered by a powerful predator, a predator she had sought out, and now her reward was to be wrapped in a cloak of arousal as she waited to see what would happen next.
The darkness concealed her flaws, and with Rigo’s powerful body changed to shadowy imprecision in that darkness they could almost be two equals meeting here. It was a compelling fantasy in which she longed to lose herself, and as the pool room shrank around them she swayed towards him.
‘Careful,’ he murmured, putting warm palms on her upper arms, but only in a steadying gesture, ‘you’re very close to the edge of the pool…’
Still the child. Ever the innocent. Would he never see her any other way?
And shouldn’t she be relieved about that?
She made light of it. ‘Sorry…I didn’t realise—I can hardly see anything in this light.’
Lies. All of it. She had seen every part of him, including the tattoo on his hip. ‘I only came because I’m worried about you,’ she said again. ‘I called the meeting.’
‘Good,’ Rigo murmured.
His concentration on her hadn’t wavered and his watchful eyes bathed her in heat. As he eased onto one hip she was consumed by the longing to touch him.
‘Why don’t you—?’
‘Why don’t I what?’ she blurted guiltily.
‘Why don’t you tell me the real reason you came here?’
She heard the faint amusement in his voice. If only he would stop staring down at her. ‘I already said—you had a shock…the will—’
‘My brother and I were practically strangers.’
Katie’s mouth felt dry as Rigo continued to stare down at her. ‘The palazzo…’ She was grasping at straws, they both knew it. She gasped as Rigo coiled a long hank of her hair around his finger. It must have escaped her bun while she was cleaning.
‘The only distress I feel,’ he assured her, ‘is knowing my stepbrother wasted his life—’
‘It doesn’t have to be a wasted life.’ She gazed up. ‘You could change that.’
He laughed and let her go. ‘You will learn that it is pointless looking back and wishing things might have been different. They are as they are.’
She had not expected him to move so fast, or to slip his hand into her hair again, and to make the next move cupping her head. ‘The knack is in learning to move on, Katie…’
Their faces were very close and he was staring at her intently. ‘Rigo…’
‘W
hat?’ he murmured, drawing her gaze to his lips.
‘You could stay here at the palazzo and make things right for everyone…’ She couldn’t forget the faces of the servants waiting hopefully for news.
‘Delaying tactics,’ he breathed with his mouth only a whisper from her lips.
Perhaps, Katie admitted silently, though her concerns for the people who lived here were real enough. And now they had reached the point she had longed for she was frightened—frightened she would disappoint him. How could she not when Rigo was perfection—when he had taken one look at the flawed palazzo and turned his back on it? ‘You don’t strike me as the sort of man who walks away from problems.’
The mood changed as she spoke. The heavy, erotic beat fell silent and was replaced by humour, at least in Rigo’s eyes.
‘I thought I told you, no counselling?’ he said.
‘Sorry…’ She eased her neck as he stepped back. Would she ever forget his touch? ‘I wouldn’t dream of advising you—’
‘I think you would,’ he argued. ‘I think you do a lot of dreaming, Signorina Bannister. I think you dream and want and need as much as anyone else.’
Breath shot from her lungs as Rigo seized hold of her.
He wanted her. Wanted her? He wanted to lose himself in Katie Bannister. He wanted to bask in her goodness and have it heal him. To begin with he’d been amused by the fact that Katie had worried about him enough to come and seek him out, but now he remembered that no one had ever done that for him before. And then he saw the hunger in her eyes matched his own and the time for restraint had passed.
There was no subtlety. As he slammed her against his hard warmth and his towel hit the floor he made no attempt to retrieve it.
Katie’s senses had sharpened in the darkness to the point where she could smell the water on Rigo. She pressed against him, believing she was someone else—someone flawless, bold and hungry. She might be falling deeper into the rabbit hole and leaving reality behind—and maybe she should try to pull things back, but she didn’t want to, and her body wouldn’t cooperate, anyway. It was swollen with need, moist and ready, and so instead of pulling away from Rigo, she raised her face to his.
‘Needs are nothing to be ashamed of, Katie. Even I have them. I understand you, Katie,’ he assured her. ‘I know everything you feel.’
In that case he’d be ready to catch her when her legs buckled. Did he have any idea how hungry she was for this—how desperate for his touch? Did he know where and exactly how she wanted him to touch her? Her eyes were shut. She was barely breathing. She was suspended in an erotic net, and was totally unprepared when he pulled away.
The ache morphed into real physical pain. It took her a moment to realise Rigo’s actions were so fluid he hadn’t left her, but was kneeling on the hard tiles in front of her.
‘No.’ Her voice clearly said yes. As he lifted her skirt she clutched his shoulders for support.
‘Yes,’ Rigo murmured, burying his face.
An excited whimper ripped the silence as she unashamedly edged her legs apart. She was greedy for sensation, for experience, for him. Having taken the first step, she was ready to fly.
‘Relax, worried signorina,’ Rigo murmured, ‘there’s no rush.’
She could hear him smiling in the darkness.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
HER heart was pounding so hard she couldn’t breathe. Her wildest fantasy was coming true. Held firmly by Rigo, she was trapped, not by his grasp, but by her own overwhelming need. She didn’t move, couldn’t move, because she didn’t want to. She craved fulfilment and satisfaction and a door into that world that had always been closed to her. She wanted everything Rigo was prepared to give her. She wanted to climax—and not once, but many times. She wanted this erotic dream to last forever and for reality to fade away. Closing her eyes, she bathed in darkness where there were no scars and only sensation registered. Consequences? What were they?
She sighed with disappointment as he started to stand up, but he took his time as if imbibing her scent on the way up. It thrilled her—aroused her even more. His face was only millimetres distant from her own, and her body was crying out for more contact between them. Swinging her into his arms, he lowered her down onto one of the recliners facing the pool, where silence enveloped them.
She blinked as he switched on the lamp by the chair.
‘I want to see you come—’
‘No.’ She wasn’t ready for that.
‘Yes,’ he argued steadily.
She was painfully self-conscious as he pressed her back against the cushions.
‘Relax,’ he said.
She was out of the dream and back to reality. This was embarrassing and wrong. She would regret it in the morning.
In the time it took to think that, he had pushed her skirt back to her waist, removed her underwear and lifted her legs to rest them on his shoulders.
She was completely exposed. Cool air brushed her most heated self as Rigo cupped her bottom in warm, strong hands, and instead of pulling away she settled down. Moments later he found her with his tongue and with his lips and with his fingers, rough stubble scratching the insides of her thighs, pleasure and pain intermingling. She hit a wall of pleasure and that wall gave way, drawing her deeper into a world of the senses where reality could not intrude. She bucked wildly. He held her in place. She screamed with abandon as he tipped her into the abyss, and while she was moaning with amazed contentment he kept her safe in his arms until the last flicker of sensation had subsided.
‘Greedy girl,’ he murmured.
With some satisfied sounds she was ready to fall silent. Language was a civilised pursuit and there was nothing civilised about her feelings for him. She was spent, exhausted, satiated—
And then she noticed the fire in Rigo’s eyes. He was neither spent, exhausted nor satiated.
She jerked away as a hot stream of panic filled her. He didn’t attempt to follow as she clambered awkwardly away from him. ‘I’m sorry—’
‘So am I. What are you ashamed of, Katie?’
‘Nothing.’ She spoke too fast and Rigo’s eyes narrowed with suspicion. ‘Sorry,’ she said again, backing away. ‘I don’t know what I was thinking—’
‘That we were two consenting adults, maybe?’ he suggested in a voice that was calm while the expression in his eyes was anything but.
And who could blame him? Katie thought. She had led him to this point and then pulled away. ‘I know what you must think of me—’
‘You have no idea,’ he assured her. Springing lightly to his feet, he collected his robe from the back of a chair and shrugged it on, belting it securely. ‘So, Signorina Prim?’ His voice had lost all warmth. ‘What do you hope to get out of this?’
Rigo’s expression frightened her. ‘Nothing.’
‘Nothing? So you haven’t been leading me on in the hope of landing a greater prize?’
He wasn’t talking to her, she felt instinctively, but to the woman who had taken his father from him, and to the many women who saw Rigo as the ultimate prize. ‘No, of course I haven’t been leading you on. Rigo, you’re upset—you’re not thinking straight—’
‘Don’t mistake me for one of your hard-luck causes—’ dipping down, he scooped up her underwear from the floor. ’—and don’t forget these.’
He threw them at her, only for her to fumble and drop the dainty briefs she had bought in Rome.
‘Pick them up,’ he snarled. ‘You might need them when you identify your next target.’
And with that he turned his back on her and stalked away.
He took the private staircase from the leisure suite to his rooms. The episode with Katie Bannister had sickened him. He knew who and what she was, just as he knew himself. This will, this so-called legacy, had undermined the man he had become and had left him feeling tainted by everything he had vowed to leave behind. Seeing his childhood home desecrated had done exactly what Katie said. It had rocked his world and he wasn’t thinking
straight.
Shouldering his way through the door, he entered his room pacing and didn’t stop until he had reasoned his motives through on every point. He had encountered just about every ruse to capture his interest and reel him in and was always on his guard. Katie had reaped the whirlwind. Her appetite was undeniable, but when he weighed that appetite against her naïvety, or the shock on her face when she realised the road they were on led to penetrative sex, he knew she was innocent. So she had splurged on some decorative underwear. Did he begrudge her even that small luxury?
Anger, regret and frustration had coagulated into one ugly mass, he concluded. Seeing the palazzo brought to ruin hadn’t just shaken him to his foundations, it had filled him with unnatural energy—or just plain fury, maybe. Whatever the cause, he had needed an outlet for that energy and had chosen badly. He should have stuck to swimming, he mused, smiling bleakly. He could never give Katie Bannister what she wanted and deserved, which was a loving husband and babies, a home, romance, a happy-ever-after ending. Thanks to him she had lost her innocence tonight. But perhaps it would keep her safe from men with fewer scruples than he.
Stripping off his clothes, he took a long, cold shower before swinging naked into bed. He wasn’t going anywhere. He was staying until this mess was sorted out. As Katie hoped, he had embraced his legacy. He would take a negative and make it positive. He would drink from Carlo’s poisoned chalice—but Principe Arrigo Ruggiero Farnese would not be making any more mistakes.
He woke at dawn after a restless night. One face had held sway in his mind, but she would hate him now. He turned his thoughts to practical matters he could do something about and went straight to examine the north tower, where he found the roof caved in. But it could be fixed. Having survived centuries, the old place would stand a few more knocks before it surrendered.
It wouldn’t be easy to restore the palazzo, he concluded after further investigation, and it would take many years and a lot of money. Money he had, and he had the determination to set it right. He would oversee this project personally. He’d handled many major building works in the past, but they had been investments for his money rather than his heart. He consulted with architects who sent teams in, but he wasn’t prepared to do that here. He would be the main point of contact. He couldn’t allow anyone to interfere with the palazzo who didn’t remember it as he did.
Italian Boss, Proud Miss Prim Page 11