by Sarah Morgan
Evie felt a spasm of fear, intermingled with the most fierce excitement she’d ever experienced. It was like a drug, urging her on to be more and more daring. ‘If you’re trying to scare me, you’re not succeeding.’
‘Maybe you should be scared, Evie.’ His voice was lethally soft and cold as the ice that had formed on the windows. ‘I’m not the right man for you.’
‘I know that.’ They were alone in the room and yet she was whispering. ‘That isn’t what this is about.’
‘So what is it about? What are you trying to prove to yourself? Or is this good girl seduces bad boy, just to see how it feels?’
‘No! I—’ Evie broke off, struggling to breathe. ‘I don’t know what this is. All I know is…I thought you wanted…earlier you said…’
‘I know what I said. I know what I wanted.’
‘So—’
‘Earlier, I didn’t know what I was dealing with.’
Evie flushed. ‘Because I love Christmas and believe in happy endings? I said I didn’t believe in happy endings with you.’
His eyes held hers. ‘If you play with fire, you’ll get burnt.’
‘Will you tell me why you hate Christmas?’
‘No. And you’re making this personal. A basic female mistake.’
‘All right. Nothing personal. No questions.’ Part of her was shocked at herself. What was she doing?
‘You think you can go to bed with a man and not make it personal?’ There was a layer of humour in his voice. ‘You think you can do that?’
‘Yes.’ No. She had no idea.
Rio stared at her for a long moment and then lifted his hand and took a strand of her hair in his fingers. ‘You should be more careful with yourself, Evie Anderson. You could get seriously hurt.’ The backs of his fingers brushed her cheek and Evie shivered, dazed by the spark of electricity that shot through her body.
Her heart pounding, she turned her head and ran her tongue along his fingers.
His response was instantaneous. With a growl, he cupped her face in his hands and brought his mouth down on hers in a punishing, possessive kiss. He’d kissed her before, but this kiss was different. This kiss demanded everything and Evie felt all her senses ignite with explosive force. Within an instant she was light-headed, her limbs weak and wobbly.
With a moan, she slid her hands up his chest, over his shoulders, feeling the firm swell of muscle beneath her hands. He’d discarded his bow tie and undone the first few buttons of his shirt and her fingers slid inside, seeking, touching, exploring. She felt the pulsing heat of his body beneath her fingertips and made a small, desperate sound deep in her throat and then he was kissing her again and his tongue was hot against hers, his relentless seduction so much more practised than her own desperate offering.
The kiss seemed to last for ever and she felt her entire body stir, as if it had been waiting for this exact moment to come alive. And the feelings were so intense that it was impossible to stay silent.
When he pressed his mouth to the hollow of her throat she moaned, and when he dragged his mouth lower and toyed with the straining peak of her breast she arched her back and gasped his name. She wanted more, much more, and when he closed his hand over the hem of her nightdress she didn’t stop him. There was a tearing sound as he ripped it from neck to hem and then she was naked, her body visible in the warm glow of the firelight.
If she’d thought that the semi darkness might give her some protection, she was wrong. Rio drew away from her, his breathing audible as he scanned her body, his gaze lingering on the fiery red curls that nestled at the juncture of her thighs.
‘You can still change your mind.’
‘No.’ Emotion clogged her throat and the only thing in her head was a desperate need for this man. ‘I don’t want to change my mind.’
His fingers speared her hair and tightened, drawing her head back. His eyes were fierce, black and focused—focused on her.
For a few suspended seconds she didn’t breathe and then he seemed to make a decision. Without speaking, he clamped his hand behind her head and claimed her mouth with ravenous hunger. It was a full on assault, his tongue in her mouth, his kiss blatantly sexual and brutally erotic and Evie went from freezing to boiling in a microsecond, her body burning up under the heat of his. She ripped at his shirt, clawing, tearing in a desperate attempt to get to the sleek male flesh beneath. Finally his shirt dangled open at the front and her hands slid inside and up to his shoulders. His body was a work of art, his muscles pumped up and hard, the dark shading on his chest accentuating strength and masculinity. Desperate to taste, Evie pushed at his chest and they rolled. Now he was the one on his back, his eyes glittering dark in the firelight as he watched her. Then his hand moved behind her head and he brought her mouth down to his, kissing her hungrily as her hair tumbled between them. Evie kissed him back, matching his hunger with her own, her hands sliding over his body as she straddled him. For a moment she paused, her hair tumbling around them, her senses reaching overload. His eyes were dark, so dark, and she felt an overwhelming thrill of excitement as she felt him, hard and ready beneath her. In that single moment, her breath caught. It was like reaching the top of a roller coaster and realising that there was no turning back.
‘You’re shaking—’ His voice was raw and thickened with the same passion she was feeling. ‘Do you want me to stop?’
‘No,’ she whispered. She leaned forward so that her mouth brushed his. ‘I can’t stop. I want this more than anything. I want you.’
‘Why?’
She sensed his struggle to hold back. It was visible in his eyes and in the tension of his sleek, pumped muscles.
‘Does it matter?’ Her mouth was against his. ‘It feels right. Can’t that be enough?’
He didn’t answer her question. Instead, he closed his hands over her hips and lifted her, flipping her gently onto her back, once more the aggressor as he came over her. The outside world melted away. Details blurred. Dimly, Evie registered that he was now naked and that brief glimpse was enough to send nerves licking along the edges of her excitement.
He devoured her mouth and she kissed him back, every bit as hungry for him as he very clearly was for her.
The heat was shocking, an inferno of dangerous desire and carnal craving and, when he dragged his mouth from her lips to her neck, Evie sucked in air and tried to focus. But there was nothing to hold on to except him. Her whole world was tumbling around her and he was the only solid thing remaining. When his hand slid between her thighs she moaned against his mouth and he murmured something in Italian, his clever fingers sliding skilfully against delicate flesh. He knew exactly where to touch her, how to touch her, and Evie felt the ache in her body intensify until it was almost agonizing. She shifted her hips on the rug, whimpered his name, but Rio simply watched her, his mouth only a breath away from hers as he tormented her with merciless skill.
‘Please,’ Evie begged, arching towards him, ‘Please, Rio—’
As if something snapped inside him, he shifted onto her. He stroked her hair away from her face and scanned her features with eyes that were dark with secrets.
She felt the hardness of him brush against her and tensed. ‘Please—’ In desperation, she ran her hands down his body and her heart gave a little lurch as she touched the power of him.
He leaned his forehead against hers, holding her gaze. ‘I don’t want to hurt you—’
‘You won’t.’
There was a brief pause while he protected her and then he was inside her, hard and hot. The size of him shocked her and Evie forced herself to relax as she learned to accommodate him.
‘Breathe—’ His voice was husky and he lowered his mouth to hers. ‘Breathe, tesoro.’
‘Can’t—’ Her body was on fire and he gently brushed her mouth with his, tracing her lower lip with his tongue as he eased deeper.
She felt an agonizing flash of pain, immediately followed by excitement as he moved against sensitive flesh and she d
ug her nails hard into his back, feeling the tension shimmering in his powerful frame.
He was holding back. Holding back for her.
Her heart was pounding, her cheeks were flushed and her blood raced with every agonizingly slow stroke. Pleasure streaked through her and she cried out his name, telling him how much she wanted him, how much she needed him and he answered with his body, driving into her with controlled force, attacking her senses with a savage sensuality.
The storm inside was fierce and furious, raging through her like a wild beast, ready to burn up everything it touched. What they shared was primitive and elemental and she knew deep down in the very fibre of her being that nothing was ever going to be the same again.
She felt his fingers dig hard into the soft flesh of her thigh and then faster, harder, he built the rhythm until there was nothing in her head but a thundering roar, until everything inside and around her shattered into a million tiny fragments and she fell, spinning and tumbling, into a different world.
When she woke, she was alone in the bed. At some point during the early hours he’d transferred her to the bedroom, tucking her under the soft duvet. She had a vague recollection of pleading with him to join her and an equally vague recollection that his response to her request had been to pull away and return to the living room, making good on his earlier warning that their intimacies would be physical, not emotional. He’d returned to his laptop—to his own silent world. A world that didn’t include Christmas or people.
A world that didn’t include her.
Dizzy with lack of sleep, her body aching in unusual places, Evie slid out of the bed, blushing as she realised her nightdress was probably still lying in pieces on the floor of the living room.
So this was how it felt to sleep with a man you weren’t in love with.
Padding across the thickly carpeted floor, she gazed in the mirror at herself, trying to see the differences. Same blue eyes. Same freckles. Same crazy morning hair.
She looked the same. Outwardly, nothing had changed. Maybe she could live a life that included sex without happy endings. Other women did it all the time. Maybe she could too.
Hearing his voice from the living room, Evie quickly pulled on a robe and followed the sound. He was on the phone, talking to someone in a time zone more alive than theirs. He’d made love to her for most of the night, but that hadn’t stopped him working. Nothing stopped him working. But now she was wondering whether work was a refuge rather than a goal. A place to escape rather than a strategy for global domination.
The first thing she saw when she entered the room were newspapers stacked on the low table between the sofas.
Her stomach lurched and she felt sick with apprehension.
This was it. This was the moment she’d been dreading. This was the reason for the charade.
Had they printed that horribly revealing photograph?
Was that why he was on the telephone?
Hardly daring to look, she sank onto the sofa and stared at the newspaper on top of the pile, forcing herself to breathe slowly. It was one of the tabloids. If anyone had printed the picture of her naked, surely it would be them. Her hand shaking, she reached out and lifted it onto her lap. The headlines blurred and suddenly she didn’t want to look, as if postponing the moment could alter the outcome. ‘Calma, tesoro. It’s all right.’ His voice was deep and firm. ‘They printed a lovely picture of you with your arms around my neck. The caption is “Tycoon tumbles” or something equally unimaginative. I expect your grandfather will be satisfied with it.’
What did he mean by that? ‘So you were right.’ Even though he’d reassured her, her fingers were damp with sweat as she forced herself to turn the pages. ‘Because we gave them another photo opportunity and a bigger story, they used that instead. Thank you.’ The relief was almost painful. ‘Thank you so much.’ Her eyes glistened as she looked up at him. ‘I don’t know what I would have done if they’d used that photograph. I’m so grateful to you.’
A muscle flickered in his jaw. ‘You have no reason to be grateful to me, Evie.’
‘Yes, I have. It was your idea to give them a better story. I would have tried to pay them off and that never would have worked because I suppose they would have just kept coming back for more money.’
He drew his hand over the back of his neck and she saw the muscles in his forearm flex, revealing a tension she didn’t understand. ‘Evie—’
‘You don’t have to say anything,’ she said hastily. ‘I do realise that this is just one day and that they could use that photograph tomorrow, but I’m not going to think about that now. We’ll take it a day at a time. Maybe we can make sure they take another photograph of us tonight. Keep giving them something else to print. I promise not to dance on the table again, no matter how Christmassy I feel. What are our plans?’
He didn’t answer immediately and she turned her attention back to the newspaper, turning the pages until she found the photograph. ‘It’s big. I had no idea they’d be that interested.’ And she saw instantly why he’d made that comment about her grandfather liking the photograph. She was in Rio’s arms, smiling up at him, looking completely smitten. No one looking at that picture would have questioned the authenticity of their relationship. A strange feeling twisted in the pit of her stomach. Was that really the way she’d looked at him? Had he noticed? ‘We look good. They were obviously convinced.’
‘Champagne certainly brings out an interesting side to you,’ he drawled softly and she glanced up to find his eyes on her face.
‘I really wasn’t drunk.’
‘But you were a virgin.’
Fire rose in her cheeks and she sat in silence for a moment, trying to find the right response. ‘So what?’
‘Why didn’t you tell me?’
Was that the reason for his tension? Was it simply the fact that she was so much less experienced than him? ‘Well, it isn’t exactly something that comes up in conversation,’ she said lightly, ‘and I don’t see that it matters. You wanted someone wholesome. If the press choose to dig around in my past they won’t find anything. Isn’t that what you wanted?’ She kept noticing small things about him—like the bold curve of his eyebrows and the cluster of dark hairs revealed by the open neck of his shirt. Knowing what she knew now, she could easily picture the rest of his body—his chest shadowed with the same dark hair, concealing well defined muscle and breathtaking power. Knowing what she knew, everything was different. More sharply defined, more acutely felt.
The unspoken sexual component to their relationship had been there from the first moment they’d met but it had been enhanced a thousand times by the intimacies they’d shared in the flickering glow of firelight.
‘You told me you were engaged.’
‘I was.’
‘But you didn’t have a physical relationship?’ His tone was incredulous.
‘If you saw the house where I grew up, you wouldn’t find it so surprising.’ Evie pushed her hair away from her face with a hand that wasn’t quite steady. ‘I was all set to go to university, but after my grandmother died I couldn’t bear to leave my grandfather on his own. I got a job in the village and went to night school to study languages. Jeff and I started dating because we were the only two people under fifty in the village. There was no way I was going to have sex in Grandpa’s house. Even if it had been possible, it wouldn’t have felt right.’
‘Presumably, you didn’t conduct your entire relationship with your grandfather looking on. There must have been some moments when you were alone.’
‘Yes, I suppose there were—’ Evie hesitated. ‘But neither of us…we didn’t really… Honestly, I think we were just friends. We should never have been anything else but I think we were swept along by the expectations of everyone around us.’
‘Friends?’ His dark brows locked in a puzzled frown and she smiled, thinking how much she’d learned about him in such a short time.
‘I bet you’ve never been friends with a woman in your li
fe, have you?’
‘If by “friends” you mean no sex, then the answer is no. So you were engaged, but you never had sex.’
‘I don’t think either of us was in any hurry.’
‘You were in a hurry last night,’ he said silkily. ‘Or was the champagne to blame for your sudden transformation from virgin to vamp?’
She sucked in a breath, mortified at his blatant reminder of her own desperation. ‘No,’ she said softly. ‘It was you.’
‘Let’s test that theory, shall we?’ He drew her to her feet and a thrill of expectation shot through her.
‘Now?’
‘Was it the champagne, Evie?’ He murmured the words against her mouth and her eyes closed, her heart racing crazily as she rose on her toes and slid her arms around his neck. He slid his hands down her back and pressed her into him, his kiss tasting of hunger and passion.
Evie opened her mouth under his, matching his erotic demands with her own. Dimly, she registered that she shouldn’t be feeling this way. They’d made love for most of the night and yet the fierce hunger inside her was as acute as if they hadn’t ever touched. She was greedy for more of what they’d shared.
Rio pushed the robe down her arms with confident hands and the silky fabric slid over her hips and pooled on the floor, leaving her naked.
‘It’s daylight—’ Evie could feel her face burning and he gave a slow smile as he tightened his hands on her shoulders and moved her away from him slightly.
‘I know.’
‘Stop staring at me,’ she muttered. ‘You’ve been with so many seriously beautiful women—’
‘And none have excited me the way you do,’ he said huskily, sweeping her into his arms and carrying her into the bedroom. ‘You have the most incredible body.’
‘You only think that because you’re tall—and strong, which is why you can carry me without putting your back out—’
‘You are extremely slender—’ he lowered her onto the mattress ‘—most of your weight is your breasts and your astonishingly long legs and I have no complaints about either so you have no reason to be shy.’ He stripped off his shirt and came down beside her in a fluid movement. ‘I’ve never been with a woman as inexperienced as you—’