Inherited by Ferranti

by Kate Hewitt

  Sierra smiled back, one hand pressed to her middle to soothe the seething nerves that had started in her stomach. She didn’t want anything to ruin this night.

  Diana told Marco with surprising bossiness to wait for Sierra downstairs and, after taking the filmy matching wrap and beaded bag, Sierra opened the door and headed out.

  She walked down the spiral staircase carefully; the last thing she wanted was to go flying down the stairs and fall flat on her face.

  She saw Marco before he saw her; he was standing by the windows, staring out at the city where the sky was lit up with streaks of vivid orange and umber, a spectacular summer sunset.

  Her heels clicked on the wrought iron and he turned around, going completely still as he caught sight of her. Sierra couldn’t tell anything from his face; his perfect features were completely blank as his silvery-grey gaze swept over her.

  She came to the bottom of the staircase, her heart starting to beat hard. ‘Do I...? Is everything all right?’

  Suddenly she wondered if she had lipstick on her teeth or she’d experienced some unknown wardrobe malfunction.

  Then Marco’s face cleared and he stepped forward, taking her hands in his. ‘You have stolen my breath along with my words. You are magnificent, Sierra.’

  A smile spread across her face as he squeezed her hands. ‘You look pretty good yourself.’

  Actually he looked amazing. The crisp white tuxedo shirt was the perfect foil for his olive skin, and the tailored midnight-dark tuxedo emphasised the perfect, powerful musculature of his body. Marco wasn’t the only one who was breathless.

  He touched her cheek with his fingertips, and the small touch seemed to Sierra like a promise of things to come. Wonderful things to come. ‘We should go, if you’re ready.’

  ‘I am.’

  The gala was in the hotel’s ballroom, several floors below the penthouse yet with the same spectacular view from every side. Sierra stepped into the huge room with a soft gasp of appreciation. The room was as sleekly spare and elegant as the hotel foyer, letting the view be its main decoration. Tuxedo-clad waiters circulated with trays of champagne and hors d’oeuvres and a string quartet played softly from a dais in one corner of the room. Sierra turned to Marco, her eyes shining.

  ‘Did you have some say in this room, too?’

  ‘Maybe a little.’ He smiled, taking her by the hand to draw her into the ball. ‘Let me introduce you.’

  Sierra had never particularly liked social occasions, thanks to her father’s silent, menacing pressure. Even in London she’d preferred quiet gatherings to parties or bars, and yet tonight those old inhibitions fell away. It felt different now, when she was at Marco’s side. When she felt safe and confident and valued.

  But not loved. Never loved.

  She pushed that niggling reminder to the back of her mind as Marco introduced her to various guests—stars, socialites, business types and the odd more ordinary people, and Sierra chatted with them all. Laughed and drank champagne and felt dizzy with a new, surprising elation.

  After a few hours Marco pulled her away from a crowd of women she’d been chatting with, plucking the half-drunk glass of champagne from her fingertips and thrusting it at a waiter, who whisked it away.

  ‘What is it...?’ Sierra began, only to have her words fall away as Marco drew her onto the dance floor.

  His gaze was hooded and intent, the colour of his eyes like molten silver as his hands slid down to her hips and he anchored her against him.

  ‘Dance with me.’

  Sierra felt as if the breath had been vacuumed from her lungs as she wordlessly nodded, placing her hands on his broad shoulders, the fabric of his tuxedo jacket crisp underneath her fingers.

  The string quartet was playing a lovely, lazy melody, something you could sway to as you lost your soul. And Sierra knew she was in danger of losing hers, of losing everything to this man. Tonight she wasn’t going to worry, wasn’t even going to care. She’d let herself fall and in the morning she’d think about picking up the broken pieces.

  ‘It seems like the ball is going well,’ Sierra said as they swayed to the music. ‘Are you pleased?’

  ‘Very pleased. The hotel is booked solid for the next three months. That’s in part because of you.’

  ‘A very small part,’ Sierra answered. ‘You’re the one who put in all the hard work. I’m proud of you, Marco.’ She smiled shyly. ‘I know you told me how much your job meant to you, but I realised why tonight. You’re good at this. You were meant for this.’

  Marco didn’t speak for a few seconds; a muscle flickered in his jaw and he seemed to struggle with some emotion. ‘Thank you,’ he said finally. ‘That means a great to deal to me.’

  The song ended and another one began, and neither Marco nor Sierra moved from the dance floor. She felt as if she could stay here for ever, or at least until Marco finally, thankfully took her upstairs.

  ‘You are the most beautiful woman in the world tonight.’ Marco’s voice was low, his tone too sincere for her to argue with.

  ‘As long as you think so,’ Sierra murmured.

  His eyes blazed for a second, thrilling her, and he pulled her even closer to him. ‘Do you mean that?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said simply. After everything that had happened, everything he’d made her feel, she knew there could be no dissembling.

  Marco drew a shuddering, steadying breath and eased her a little bit away from him as he smiled wryly. ‘I don’t want to disgrace myself here.’

  She smiled, the curve of her lips coy. ‘Then disgrace yourself upstairs.’

  Regret flashed across his features like a streak of pain. ‘We can’t leave the ball yet.’

  ‘Do you have to stay to the end?’ Some of the socialites and celebrities seemed ready to party until dawn.

  ‘No,’ Marco answered firmly. ‘And even if I needed to, I wouldn’t. I can’t last that long without touching you, Sierra. Without being inside you.’

  The huskily spoken words sent a spear of pure pleasure knifing through her. ‘Good.’

  Marco shook his head. ‘Keep looking at me like that and I really won’t last.’

  ‘How am I looking?’ Sierra asked with deliberate innocence.

  ‘Like that.’ He pulled her closer again. ‘Like you want to eat me.’

  ‘Maybe I do.’ A blush pinkened her cheeks but she held his heated gaze. She could hardly believe the audacity of her words, and yet she meant them. Utterly.

  Marco groaned softly. ‘Do you enjoy torturing me?’

  ‘Yes,’ she answered with a shameless smile. ‘It’s payback for the way you tortured me this morning.’

  His gaze swept over her body. ‘That was torture for me, as well. Sweet, sweet torture.’

  She felt as if she could melt beneath the heat of his gaze. Or maybe combust. She’d felt an intense excitement spiralling up inside her from the moment Marco had taken her onto the dance floor, and it was overwhelming now. The need for him was a physical craving, so fierce and wonderful she was helpless to its demand.

  Her tongue shot out and dampened her lips as she gave him a look of complete yearning. ‘Marco...’

  ‘We’re going,’ Marco bit out. ‘Now.’ His long, lean fingers encircled her wrist as he led her purposefully from the dance floor.

  In any other circumstance Sierra would have baulked at being led from the ballroom like a sulky schoolgirl or a flagrant harlot. Now the need was too much to feel even a twinge of embarrassment or anger. She just wanted to get upstairs fast.

  Marco muttered a few words to one of his staff standing by the door, and then they were out in the hall, the air cool on Sierra’s heated cheeks. A few guests loitering there shot them speculative looks, but Marco ignored them all. He stabbed the button for the penthouse lift and Sierra held her br
eath until the doors opened and Marco pulled her inside.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  THE LIFT DOORS had barely closed before Marco pulled Sierra to him, her breasts colliding with his chest as his mouth came down hard on hers. He couldn’t have waited another moment, not even one second, to touch her, and the feel of her lips on his wasn’t the water in the desert he’d thought it would be; it was a match to the flame, igniting his need all the more.

  He backed her up against the wall of the lift, his mouth plundering hers as his hands fisted in her hair. Diamond-tipped pins scattered across the floor of the lift with a tinkling sound. Marco couldn’t get enough of her. He moved his hands from her hair to her hips, yanking up a satiny fistful of her dress, needing to touch her skin.

  He found the curve of her neck with his mouth and sucked gently, his desire knifing inside him as Sierra groaned aloud.

  ‘You’ll ruin the dress...’ she gasped.

  ‘I’ll buy you another. I’ll buy you a dozen, a hundred others.’

  The doors pinged open and Marco stumbled backwards into the penthouse, pulling Sierra with him. She came with him, laughing and breathless, clutching his shirt as she tried to pull it away from his cummerbund.

  ‘I need to see you,’ Marco said. He tugged at the zip at the back of her dress. ‘Now.’ He tugged harder at the zip and the dress slithered off her, leaving her in nothing but a scrap of lace pants. Marco inhaled sharply at the sight of her pale golden perfection, the lights from the city gleaming on her smooth skin.

  She stepped out of the dress, chin lifted, smile shy, wearing nothing but lace and stiletto heels. Marco had never seen a more magnificent sight.

  ‘This feels a bit unequal,’ she said with a little uncertain laugh. ‘I’m in my birthday suit and you’re completely dressed.’

  He spread his arms wide. ‘Then maybe you should do something about it.’

  ‘Maybe I should.’ She stepped closer to him so he could breathe in the lemon scent of her hair; it had come undone from the pins he’d pulled out in the lift and lay in twists and curls about her shoulders. She pursed her lips slightly as she fumbled with the studs on his shirt; her breasts grazed his chest every time she moved.

  Finally she’d managed to release the studs; she tossed them aside with a breathless laugh and then tugged his shirt out from his cummerbund and parted it, smoothing her hands along his chest. Marco closed his eyes, his breath hissing between his teeth. It amazed him how profoundly her touch affected him. He’d been with plenty of women over the years, gorgeous women with experience and expertise and plenty of confidence, but Sierra’s hesitant touch reduced all those women to a pale memory.

  ‘You’re very beautiful,’ she whispered, and tugged his shirt off his body before undoing the laces of his cummerbund. He wore only his trousers now, and he saw the hesitation in Sierra’s face and wondered what she’d do about it. Sometimes she seemed so innocent and inexperienced he wondered how many lovers she’d actually had. But it wasn’t a train of thought he enjoyed dwelling on, and so he made himself stop thinking about it. It didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was that she was with him now.

  ‘Well?’ He arched an eyebrow, his mouth curving in a salacious smile. ‘I’m not naked yet.’

  ‘I know.’ She laughed again, a soft, breathy sound, and then tugged his trousers down. Marco kicked them off his feet, and followed with his shoes and socks. Now all he wore was a pair of navy silk boxers and his arousal was all too evident.

  Sierra’s gaze darted up to him and she licked her lips. Marco groaned. Then she reached out a hand and touched his shaft through his boxers, her fingers questing uncertainly and then wrapping more firmly around him.

  Marco clenched his jaw against the almost painful wave of pleasure that crashed over him. ‘Sierra...’

  ‘Is this okay?’ She jerked her hand back as if she’d hurt him and he laughed, albeit shakily.

  ‘More than okay. What you do to me... But I need to do some things to you.’ He reached for her then, because he needed her next to him. The feel of their naked bodies colliding made them both gasp aloud, her breasts against his chest, their legs tangled.

  Marco kissed her deeply and she responded with all of her clumsy ardour, tangling her hands in his hair as he fitted her body more closely to his. Marco backed her towards the wall, pressing her against the sheet of glass as Sierra let out a soft laugh.

  ‘Half the world now has a glimpse of my backside.’

  ‘No one can see you from up here,’ he promised her, ‘but, if they could, it would be the most splendid view. Not,’ he added in a growl as his mouth moved down her body, ‘that I want anyone to see you but me.’ Ever, he silently added, and then pushed the thought away as he turned his attention to her breasts. Her skin was pale and gleaming in the moonlight; she looked like a statue of Athena or Artemis, naked and proud.

  Sierra’s head came back against the glass, her hair tumbling about her shoulders, and her legs buckled as Marco lavished his attention on each breast in turn and then moved lower.

  She gasped, a ragged pant, as he parted her thighs. ‘Marco...’

  ‘I want to taste you.’ Was she thinking of before, in the villa, when he’d touched her like this? Then it had been confused, born of both need and anger, a twisted revenge he hadn’t wanted to articulate even to himself. Now he felt nothing but this deep physical and emotional connection he needed to act on. To show her how important she was to him. ‘I want to feel you come apart beneath me,’ he muttered against her. ‘I want you to give me everything, Sierra.’ For ever.

  * * *

  Sierra sagged against the window, Marco supporting her with one arm, as he plundered her centre. She didn’t know how she could have, but she’d forgotten how intense and exquisite and intimate this was. Marco’s hands were cupping her bottom as pleasure spiralled inside her, up and up, tighter and tighter until she felt as if she were apart from her body even as she dwelt so intensely in it. When she came, she cried out, Marco holding her to him as she slid into boneless pleasure.

  A few moments passed while he cradled her and her breathing slowed and then he scooped her up in his arms and took her up the spiral staircase to his bed.

  He deposited her on the navy silk sheets tenderly, like a treasure, and Sierra lay there, gazing up at him with pleasure-dazed eyes as he stripped the boxers from his body and then stretched out next to her.

  Completely naked, he was magnificent, every muscle perfectly sculpted, the hard ridge of his abdomen begging for her touch. She slid her hand down his toned stomach, a thrill of wonder and pleasure shooting through her at Marco’s ragged gasp. It amazed her that she affected him so much. That she had that much power. It was a heady feeling but a serious one, too, because she knew all about the abuse of power.

  ‘You’re amazing,’ she whispered, and wrapped her fingers around his shaft. His skin was smooth and hot, and it thrilled her.

  ‘You’re amazing,’ he muttered and pulled her to him, sliding a hand between her thighs, where she was still damp from his touch. ‘I want you now, Sierra. I want to be inside you.’

  ‘I want you inside me.’

  He rolled on top of her, poised at her entrance as a frown furrowed his forehead. ‘Birth control...’

  She blushed even as she opened herself to him. ‘I don’t... That is, I’m not on anything.’

  In one swift movement Marco rolled off her. Sierra felt the loss of him keenly. ‘Marco...’

  ‘I’m sorry. I should have thought of it sooner. I was so wrapped up in you...’

  Disappointment made her feel as if she’d swallowed a stone. ‘But don’t you have anything?’

  He arched an eyebrow, a wry smile twisting his lips. ‘I wasn’t expecting to need anything on this trip.’

  ‘You didn’t think you’d get lucky?’
she teased and his expression turned serious.

  ‘I didn’t dare hope, Sierra.’

  ‘Even so...’

  ‘I’m not quite,’ he said, ‘the super stud you seem to think I am. But thanks, anyway.’

  She laughed softly. ‘But you must have had plenty of women...’ Even if she felt like scratching their eyes out just then.

  Marco’s expression closed and he shook his head. ‘Let’s not talk about that. The past is in the past, for both of us.’

  She nodded and Marco left the room. He came back seconds later, condom in hand. ‘Fortunately, the penthouse is admirably stocked. Now, where were we?’

  She arched her body against the sheets, eyebrows raised as a provocative smile curved her mouth. ‘Right about here?’

  His gaze darkened with desire as he watched her move. ‘Yes, I think so. But I’d better check.’

  He rolled on the condom and Sierra watched, transfixed by the sight, by the sheer beauty of him. Now would probably be a good time to tell him that she hadn’t actually done any of this before. The feel of him in her hand had caused her a twinge of alarm, wondering how he was going to fit inside her. Wondering how the mechanics of this actually worked.

  But she didn’t want to break the moment, and she knew any explanation she gave would be clumsy and awkward. Marco had said the past was in the past. Better to leave it there.

  He lay down next to her again, stirring up the embers of need into roaring flame with just a few touches, his mouth on hers, his hand between her thighs. She arched against him, a sound like a kitten’s mewl emerging from her lips.

  He laughed softly and then rolled on top of her, braced on his forearms as he nudged at her entrance. ‘Are you ready...?’

  ‘Yes,’ she panted. ‘Yes.’

  He moved inside her and Sierra stiffened instinctively at the entirely unexpected feeling. Her gaze widened and her mouth parted on a soundless gasp. She felt so...full. Invaded, yet in an exciting way. He moved again and she let out a little gasp as the first twinge of discomfort assaulted her.