Mistress to the Mediterranean Male (Mills & Boon By Request)

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Mistress to the Mediterranean Male (Mills & Boon By Request) Page 36

by Carole Mortimer


  The gentle sincerity in his tone totally disarmed her for a second.

  ‘And I have no intention of pouncing on you,’ he added. ‘It’s not my style.’

  ‘I know that,’ she said swiftly.

  ‘Well, at least that’s something.’ He raked a hand through the thick darkness of his hair. ‘Because the way you flinched a moment ago, I was concerned that was what you were thinking.’

  ‘Of course not!’ She felt guilty now! Her fear had been directed inwardly at her own reactions towards him … never the other way round. ‘Look, I don’t know why I said those things,’ she admitted huskily. ‘I just felt a bit …’

  ‘Tense?’ He supplied the word with a mocking smile. ‘Yes, I have noticed.’

  Feeling acutely embarrassed, Charlie moved to sit down at the table. ‘I’m just worried we will mess up our working relationship,’ she said lightly.

  ‘That is only part of what is bothering you.’ Marco pulled up a chair and sat down beside her. ‘This goes deeper than just being worried about your job.’

  She stared at him for a moment, her heart thundering against her chest. Of course, he was right. This did go deeper. Yes, she was concerned about her work … she really needed this job. But there was more to her fears than that.

  ‘I think the truth is something much closer to your heart—’

  ‘Just leave it, Marco,’ she warned him unsteadily.

  He ignored her. ‘I think you’ve been hurt so badly in the past that you tend to run in the opposite direction from any emotional contact.’

  When she didn’t answer him immediately he reached out a hand and brushed her hair back from her face so that he could see her expression. The gesture was tenderly provocative and it was that rather than his words that caused the feelings which had been locked away deep inside her to reverberate with violent force.

  She looked up and met his eyes.

  ‘I’m right, aren’t I?’

  ‘Maybe …’ She admitted the truth huskily. The touch of his hand against her skin sent little shivers of need racing through her.

  He let his hand drop and sat back with a smile. ‘So now that we are being completely honest with each other … no barriers whatsoever, I do have a confession to make too.’

  ‘What’s that?’ She looked over at him with a frown.

  ‘The idea of trying to get you into my bed has crossed my mind …’ He spread his hands and looked at her with a glint of devilment in his dark eyes. ‘Of course it has … what can I say …? I’m Italian … a red-blooded male. And I find you attractive.’

  ‘You are also my boss, which makes it a conflict of interest.’ She found the strength to rally herself from the feelings of desire that were flooding through her in mutinous waves.

  ‘Maybe.’ He shrugged. ‘But why don’t we forget about conflicts of interest for one evening? In fact, why don’t we forget about everything, put all our preconceived ideas about each other to one side, and just enjoy having dinner together and getting to know each other?’

  When she didn’t answer him immediately he smiled.

  ‘Or does that sound a little too dangerous?’

  The challenge in that question sounded so absurd that Charlie laughed. ‘No, it doesn’t sound dangerous.’

  ‘Good. Then that is what we will do.’

  Charlie met his gaze and felt a flow of warmth around the frozen loneliness of a heart she had been trying so fiercely to protect.

  Where was the harm in relaxing and enjoying herself with a man she felt attracted to?

  She leaned back in her chair and smiled at him, his soothing words obscuring the fear that she had just made a fatal mistake by lowering her defences.

  CHAPTER SIX

  TO SAY that Marco was a charismatic dinner companion was putting it mildly. She couldn’t remember a more enjoyable evening.

  When she thought about it later she realised they hadn’t really talked about anything of particular depth over the meal, just amusing anecdotes from their past. But Marco was incredibly funny. He made her laugh and he held her enthralled with his stories … he also listened as if he was interested in every last detail of what she had to say.

  It was a long time since anyone had made her feel the way he did—as if she was the most interesting and the most beautiful woman in the world. Of course, she realised this was probably the effect he had on every woman he spent time with. She wasn’t naïve enough to believe otherwise … but it was so nice to relax with him. She hadn’t realised until now how much she had missed male company … how much she had missed just being herself around someone who made her feel special.

  ‘That was a fabulous meal,’ Charlie said honestly as he got up to clear the table. ‘You’re a great cook.’

  ‘Comes with living on my own for so long,’ he said with a shrug. ‘When you’ve no one to share the domestic chores with it makes you sharper.’

  ‘Well, I’ve been on my own for a number of years now and my domestic skills haven’t improved to that standard.’

  Marco went over to the sideboard and poured them both a coffee. ‘How long have you been on your own?’ he asked over his shoulder.

  ‘Four and a half years.’

  ‘That long!’ He returned to the table and put the cup and saucer down in front of her with a frown. ‘But Jack is only four!’

  ‘Greg left when I was pregnant.’

  Charlie’s matter-of-fact tone didn’t fool Marco for a moment.

  ‘That must have been difficult to cope with,’ he reflected quietly.

  ‘It wasn’t easy. I had to deal with my father’s death, my pregnancy, a divorce and finding somewhere to live all at the same time.’

  ‘Couldn’t you have stayed in the house you had?’

  She shook her head. ‘We’d sold it already to find something more child-friendly.’

  ‘And then your husband left before you could make the next purchase?’

  She heard the distaste in his voice.

  ‘He’d met someone else.’ She shrugged. ‘Anyway, I don’t know why I just told you all that. I coped without him, so it doesn’t matter now.’

  No wonder he sometimes glimpsed that look of distrust in her eyes … that raw vulnerability. ‘I’m glad you did tell me.’ He put his other hand over hers and squeezed it gently. ‘It makes me admire you all the more.’

  ‘You admire me?’ For a moment amusement chased the shadows in her eyes away.

  She had such expressive eyes, he thought. And, despite everything, laughter came so easily to them.

  ‘Well, yes, I do. I admire the way you’ve coped so well on your own; I admire the fact that you have a great spirit. You are quite remarkable.’

  Charlie laughed. ‘And, of course, indispensable in the office.’

  ‘Goes without saying.’ He smiled, enjoying the sparkle of fun that danced between them.

  She glanced down at his hand, so large against hers, and was aware that what had started out as a gesture of sympathy had changed into something else.

  His fingers caressed slowly over her skin, and the touch was intoxicating; it sent shivers of desire racing through her in delicious little waves. Like a taster of the pleasure he could bring her given full reign.

  As soon as the thought flicked through her mind she forced herself to pull away from him. That was exactly what she shouldn’t be thinking about, she told herself firmly!

  ‘I suppose we should call it a night,’ she said briskly. ‘We’ve got to get to work in the morning.’

  ‘It shouldn’t take too long with both of us going through the files.’ If he noticed how abruptly she withdrew from him Marco didn’t show it. ‘But I suppose you are right—we should turn in.’

  Charlie watched as he blew out the candles on the table and perversely she felt a stab of disappointment that the warmth that had enveloped them all evening had to come to an end.

  She was being silly, she told herself. It had been a lovely evening but it was time for them to sa
y goodnight. Otherwise … She looked over and met the darkness of his eyes and her senses wavered alarmingly. Otherwise things could get complicated.

  Hurriedly she reached to pick up the coffee cups. ‘I’ll help you clear away the last of the dishes.’

  ‘Leave everything, Charlie. I’ll see to it.’

  ‘No, honestly, it’s the least I can do after you’ve gone to so much trouble.’ She headed into the kitchen and put the crockery in the sink.

  ‘Charlie?’ His voice was very close behind her.

  He put a hand on her shoulder, turning her around to face him.

  They were just inches apart.

  ‘Everything in the kitchen is under control,’ he said softly.

  Not everything, she thought wryly. For one thing, her emotions were pounding in a way she had no control over at all.

  ‘I’ve really enjoyed this evening.’ His eyes moved over her with a deep contemplation that made her burn inside.

  ‘Yes, me too,’ she murmured huskily.

  Charlie noticed his eyes were on her lips and she felt her heart bounce crazily against her chest. She really wanted him to kiss her. What harm would it do to have one goodnight kiss? a little voice was whispering provocatively inside her.

  ‘Marco …’ She murmured his name, hardly aware of what she wanted to say … all she could think about was the way he made her feel.

  He leaned closer and suddenly his lips touched hers. The feeling was heavenly; she felt floodgates open inside her as she melted against the caress and kissed him back.

  She couldn’t remember the last man she had enjoyed kissing as much as this. It was certainly a long time since any other man had stirred up this rush of excitement, this dizzy feeling as adrenalin rushed through her veins. She reached up and put her hands on his shoulders.

  By contrast, Marco’s hands did not leave his sides. Even though she ached for him to touch her, he didn’t, instead his kisses intensified, his mouth plundering hers with an expertise in seduction that was mind-blowing.

  When he finally pulled away from her she was left throbbing with pure frustration.

  ‘I meant it when I said there were no strings attached to dinner this evening. So unless you want to take this further I suggest we stop.’

  Although he sounded firmly in control, one look into the blaze of his dark eyes made her realise that he was holding on to his restraint by a thread.

  She tried to think sensibly but it was difficult. ‘Yes … of course. We have to work together and it would be madness to take things too far …’

  ‘But an enjoyable kind of madness all the same,’ he said teasingly. He stroked one hand softly down over the side of her face. The caress sent butterflies darting wildly inside her.

  He lowered his head and kissed her again. ‘I can’t tell you how much I want you.’ He murmured the words huskily against her mouth.

  ‘I want you too.’

  She heard herself say the words and yet felt no rush of panic, which was strange, considering how much deliberation she had been giving to this matter. In fact, all she felt as she looked into his eyes was an overwhelming sense that this was just right.

  Marco smiled. ‘Well, in that case … wouldn’t it be madness not to take things further?’ He kissed her again, this time with such a forceful, hungry passion that she was breathless as he pulled back.

  ‘I think you’re right,’ she agreed tremulously. Then she looked up at him, a spark of mischief in the intense green of her eyes. ‘But maybe you’d better kiss me again just so I can double-check …’

  He laughed. ‘You are a minx, Ms Charlotte Hopkirk, and you are driving me wild with desire …’

  ‘That’s good,’ she smiled and pressed her lips to his, ‘because you are having a similar effect on me …’

  The next moment he had swung her up into his arms and was carrying her in a fireman’s lift out of the room.

  ‘Marco, put me down!’ She was laughing breathlessly as he carried her up the stairs and into the bedroom opposite to hers.

  ‘With pleasure.’ He placed her down on the bed with a playful thud. But as she looked up at him suddenly the laughter was gone and the atmosphere was very serious.

  For a moment his gaze raked over her, taking in the soft fullness of her parted lips, the creamy flush on her high cheekbones, the sparkle in her eyes and the way her hair was spread out around her on the bed in wild, golden profusion.

  Then his gaze moved lower towards the buttons on her dress.

  ‘I’ve wanted you in my bed for some time, Charlie …’ His voice held a husky rasp that she hadn’t heard before; it sent tingles of awareness rushing through her.

  Her heart thundered unsteadily. If they stepped over this line where would their relationship go from here?

  Marco regarded her steadily. ‘Are you having second thoughts?’

  ‘No. I’m not having second thoughts. I’m just …’ She struggled to express her feelings. She was scared, yet she couldn’t stop things now.

  ‘It’s a while since you’ve done this, isn’t it?’ he said gently. ‘Let me guess … it was with your husband just before he left?’

  He saw the creaminess of her skin heat up and felt a dart of a fiercely protective emotion mingle with the animal desire that was eating him inside.

  ‘Hey, it will be OK.’ He bent over her and kissed her softly.

  His velvet Italian tone seeped into her consciousness making her forget the momentary pangs of apprehension. Yes, it would be all right, she told herself as desire once more took her over. She wound her arms around his neck, and kissed him back with a sweet tenderness that seared into him.

  His hands were on her body now, caressing her through the silky material of her dress. He felt her breasts tighten and harden beneath his touch, felt her acquiescence in every trembling, passionate kiss.

  Pulling back from her, he peeled off his jumper and cast it to one side. Underneath he was wearing a short-sleeved white T-shirt and it showed off the hard-muscled perfection of his broad shoulders and arms.

  Hell but he had a fabulous body. She watched as his hand moved to unfasten the buckle on his leather belt.

  Leaning up on one elbow, she took off her own belt and then kicked off her shoes. Then she started to unbutton her dress.

  Marco had stopped undressing and was watching her now. She glanced up and saw the intense desire in his dark eyes and her heart thumped as if she had been running in a race. Suddenly her attempts to undress were slowed by hands that weren’t at all steady or coordinated.

  Marco smiled and reached out a hand to pull her up from the bed. ‘Here, let me help.’

  She allowed him to unfasten the last of the buttons and then stood silently in front of him as he pulled the dress from her shoulders and let it drop to the floor. Then his eyes moved with slow and thorough contemplation over the curves of her breasts in her black lacy bra before moving lower over her body and down across her stomach to the matching black knickers.

  For a moment she felt acutely self-conscious as she suddenly wondered if he was comparing her voluptuous curves with the petite, perfect women he usually took to bed.

  ‘You have a wonderful figure, Charlie,’ he murmured. As he spoke he reached out a hand and trailed it lightly over the outline of her bra and she shivered with need.

  She longed for him to really touch her, to caress her and kiss her, but instead he reached behind her and unfastened her bra, taking it from her with a slow deliberation that was tortuously provocative.

  Apart from her lacy knickers she was naked now, whilst he was still almost fully dressed.

  ‘Exquisitely sexy …’ he murmured, his fingers trailing over the side of her neck before moving lower to softly glide over the full, up-tilted firmness of her breasts.

  Charlie closed her eyes on a wave of ecstasy as his lips started to follow the teasing, provocative trail down over the side of her neck and then lower until his lips found the hard, rosy peak of her nipple.


  She drew in her breath on a gasp of pleasure and her hands moved upwards to rest against his shoulders. She could feel the warmth of his skin through the T-shirt and the tautness of his muscles.

  He drew back from her for a moment and said something in Italian. But before she had a chance to ask what he had said he was pulling her underwear down, his hand lingering over the curves of her hips. Then, reaching behind her, he threw back the covers on the bed and gently pulled her down against the crisp white linen.

  Lying sideways across the width of the bed, she watched as he pulled his T-shirt over his head. His skin was a deep golden bronze and smooth. Her eyes moved hungrily over the powerful torso and then lower towards his narrow hips. He was unzipping his jeans now.

  Her heart was thundering fast and uneven against her chest. She wanted him so much …

  ‘Hurry.’ She breathed the word almost feverishly and he smiled.

  ‘Patience, Charlotte,’ he whispered teasingly.

  ‘I don’t want to be patient,’ she complained huskily and he laughed. Leaving his jeans on, he straddled her. She could feel the coarse denim material against the soft flesh of her hips as he raised himself up, looking for something in his back pocket.

  ‘Marco, really …’ She writhed just a little beneath him, her senses on fire with longing. It felt as if there were a live volcano inside her and if he didn’t get to it soon it was going to surely erupt without him. ‘Hurry!’

  He brought out a foil packet and she realised that she had been so turned on that she had almost forgotten about contraception. He however, was very much in control. He was also extremely aroused, she noted as she watched him quickly remove his jeans and boxer shorts before deftly putting on the condom.

  A moment later he leaned closer and found her lips. Then he kissed her in a way she had never been kissed before. It was hungry and passionate and so deeply arousing that it made her tingle deep inside her very core.

  Murmuring words in Italian, he then kissed her face, trailing his heated, passionate lips down over her neck, whilst his hands possessively caressed her breasts.

 

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