Love Capri Style

by Reynolds, Lynn

  Eric was behind her in a few short strides. He laid his hands on her shoulders and bent his cheek to meet hers. “I can cut to the chase, if that’s what you want.” He caught her delicate earlobe between his teeth and gave it a gentle tug.

  She sighed and reflexively hunched her shoulders. “Yes, let’s cut to the chase. Or even after the chase. I’m so ready for this, Eric. I’m ready for hot, crazy sex and no stupid entanglements. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, exactly.” Strange how his mood plummeted when she said she wanted no entanglements.

  He let go of her shoulders and opened the door to Franco’s elegant, walnut-paneled library. Amanda stepped into the room and stopped in front of the big leather couch near the door, her movements tentative and uneasy. Eric locked the French doors and then walked over and did the same to the door that opened into the corridor.

  Amanda remained utterly still as she watched him. “I’ve never done this sort of thing.”

  Only her ragged breathing hinted at the passion she struggled to contain. Her breasts heaved up and down noticeably.

  Eric looked into her face, into her wide dark eyes that were slightly wild with excitement.

  “You can leave,” he said. It was more mercy than he wanted to offer her. He wanted to pounce upon her right here beside the door and strip her naked.

  “I won’t try again if you go tonight,” he added, his pride reasserting itself.

  She pressed her hands against his chest. “No, I don’t want to leave.”

  Her hands traveled upward and she caught the lapels of his jacket, pushing it back and down over his arms. At the same time, she tilted her head up, casting a lascivious smile in his direction. Her earlier remarks and her new bold manner made it clear that Eric could be any man right now. She didn’t need him; she needed to prove to herself that she was sexy and wild and impetuous. Eric could have told her she was all those things—he’d recognized them straining beneath her naïve facade from the moment he found her in his hotel room.

  She gave him a gentle shove, forcing him up against the door.

  “Ah, so you think you’re taking charge of the situation, do you?” He grasped her forearms and swung her around, so that she was the one pinned against the door. Then he paused long enough to toss aside his jacket and rip off the bow tie. Amanda reached for the buttons of his shirt and began undoing them. He raised his arms on either side of her, imprisoning her between them. Lowering his head, he captured her lips and tasted her sugary lip-gloss along with her own salty-sweet flavor. Instantly, he wanted more of her. His hands spanned her waist, and he leaned his body against her, letting her feel how hard she made him, how much he needed to have her.

  Amanda left his shirt half-undone and twined her arms around his neck. Her hands snaked their way through his hair, but her light touch only made him eager for more.

  “I want all of you tonight.” His hands slipped behind her waist. He tugged at the zipper of the lemon sundress, but it held fast.

  “Bloody hell,” he muttered. “I should have had her make the damn thing out of tissue paper.”

  Amanda’s laughter poured over him like sparkling champagne.

  “You think I’m joking, do you?” he taunted.

  She fell silent, regarding him with breathless anticipation. “Depends. What are you going to do about it?”

  “This.” With animal ferocity, he rucked her skirt up to her waist and tore at the flimsy panties underneath. They fell to the floor in a ragged heap.

  Amanda eyed them in amazement. Then she stepped to one side and kicked them away. Her gaze locked onto his, at once defying him and inviting him.

  Eric savored the damp warmth of her as he explored further, slipping his fingers into her soft, wet darkness. It had been too long between women, he told himself. That was the only reason Amanda’s soft sighs maddened him so. Any woman would have had the same effect on him after all these months.

  A little voice tried to argue, reminding him that Stacey didn’t make him feel this way; nor did that Italian model who’d been after him for weeks. Only Amanda—

  He cut off his own troublesome thinking by taking hold of her arms and stretching them out above her head. Then he laced his fingers through hers and pressed their palms together. “I could take you right here, right now,” he said, his voice rough with emotion.

  “Then do it.” Amanda challenged him as she wrenched her hands from his grasp. She skimmed them over his shirt, stopping at the waistband of his trousers. She fumbled gamely with the fly of his tuxedo pants, but he brushed her shaking hands aside and undid the zipper himself. He reached down, cupping her luscious bottom and lifting her up, positioning himself at the juncture of her thighs. She made a sound of extreme pleasure, like a low purr, and wrapped one leg around him.

  “Now the other,” he urged.

  She eyed him warily. Her previous boyfriends had barely been able to perform on horizontal surfaces.

  “Trust me, love,” he murmured. And she did. She wrapped her long legs around his waist, trusting that he would cradle her and bear her weight with his own.

  Eric plunged into her, and her body tightened around him, greedily drawing him in deeper. As he thrust into her with a relentless rhythm, she writhed in response, smothering her moans and cries against the sleeve of his shirt. Her high heels dug into his backside as her hips arched towards him. Her enraptured whimpers only heightened his need for her. When she sighed and tilted her head upward, she exposed her elegant swan-like neck. He planted kiss after kiss on that smooth expanse and then moved lower, pressing his lips to her exposed cleavage. He refused to let up, wanting to take away every last ounce of her self-control.

  Amanda snatched at the back of his shirt, pulling it free and then slipping her hands beneath it, touching his bare skin. Eric shuddered and sank deeper into her. She dug her nails into his back and Eric groaned his approval.

  “My love,” he whispered, sinking to his knees and taking her to the floor with him.

  Amanda sobbed out his name, as she squeezed her legs tightly around him. Then she sagged against his chest, both of them suddenly silent and spent.

  A light sheen of sweat glistened on her forehead. Eric brushed it away with his fingertips. When she lifted her angelic face to him, he saw a stray tear roll down her cheek.

  “No, no. Don’t cry.” He lowered his head to kiss it away.

  “It’s a good kind of crying,” she assured him. She drew his head down and captured his lips in a kiss of unbridled passion. Desire overtook him again, and he stirred to life inside her.

  She broke the kiss and smiled teasingly, lips parted and eyes half-closed. “You are insatiable.”

  “Only for you, love.” Eric stopped her taunting laughter with another kiss.

  “You sweet talker,” she sighed.

  Eric brushed his hands over the fabric of the lemon-covered sundress. Her nipples hardened in response to him.

  “We need to get this off of you.” He released her hands and untied her halter-top. The straps fell around her shoulders and instinctively she reached up to hold them in place.

  “Let it go,” Eric told her.

  Her hands shook as she pulled them away, but she let the top slip down for him. He’d expected her to be wearing some kind of strapless bra underneath, but he’d been wrong. When the halter fell away, her bare breasts were instantly revealed to him in all their glory.

  “You are a feast for the eyes,” he told her, and he meant it. As she watched him, he stroked his thumbs over her nipples and the flesh pebbled with goose bumps. She caught her breath sharply and closed her eyes.

  Moonlight spilled across the room, casting a silver sheen on her breasts, her face, and her pinned up golden hair. Eric pulled the clasp from her hair and tossed it onto the nearby sofa. Combing out her long hair with his fingers, he ached again with longing for her.

  “I want that dress off of you,” he demanded, slipping out of her.

  She rol
led onto her side, so that he could see the zipper. He yanked it down so violently, he feared he might have broken it. Amanda gave a little gasp and rolled back to him. He didn’t know how much longer he could last. Just looking at her drove him mad with longing.

  “Lift up,” he told her. When she did, he whisked the dress off of her.

  Eric caught his breath at the glorious sight of her naked form in the moonlight. The small of her back was arched up as if even now she were in the throes of sexual ecstasy.

  She gave a soft, breathy laugh, reaching up to unbutton his shirt. “What about the shoes? Do I get to take them off too?”

  “No, you’re leaving those on,” he told her. They weren’t the pointy-toed black pair, but they were almost as good—white ankle straps with fierce stiletto heels.

  “You are such a bad boy.”

  “On the contrary, I’ve been told I’m quite good.”

  And then he went on to show her how true that was.

  ***

  Much, much later, his head rested on Amanda’s stomach and she fingered the unruly curls of his hair.

  “Wow, you were right,” Amanda chuckled, a throaty, satisfied sound. “No wonder women love you.”

  He raised his head and grinned up at her. Sitting up, she stroked his stubbled cheek. Then she leaned forward and pressed a slow, gentle kiss to his lips.

  Eric sat up beside her and traced the lines and planes of her face. “You’re very beautiful in the moonlight.”

  “You make me feel like I am.”

  He’d been with beauty queens and movie stars and models, but none compared to her, to her golden hair and big dark eyes and her warm, soft curves. She was like coming home after a long, long journey.

  “Well, you are, Amanda, my love.”

  Even as the words left his lips, a swirling sensation of panic gripped his chest.

  Had he actually called her my love? He hadn’t used that endearment on a woman since his Cambridge days, when a girl he’d met in a bar had taken it to mean they were engaged. After that, he’d decided it was far too risky and stuck with less emotionally loaded terms like darling or even the dreaded and all too American-sounding baby. Anything to avoid the implications of the L word.

  But now he’d said my love to Amanda, and more than once. As they basked in the afterglow, Eric understood what he’d been denying since that moment on the edge of the cliff. Once would never be enough with Amanda. A whole lifetime might not be enough with her.

  NINE

  Eric pressed his lips to hers again and stroked her cheek. Then the familiar look of grim determination returned to his brow and he drew back from her. She gathered up her dress and covered herself with it, suddenly feeling how naked—and probably downright slutty she must look at this moment.

  Eric cleared his throat and looked down, studying his hands. “Amanda, we forgot,” he said. “I didn’t even use a condom.”

  She hadn’t thought about it at the time. She hadn’t thought about much of anything except her resolution to be the New Dan, a bold risk-taking modern girl. Hah. She of all people should have known better. Out loud, she masked her dismay with what she hoped was an upbeat, breezy tone.

  “I’m on the Pill,” she said. Better not to mention she’d missed a couple of days in the hectic pace since arriving in Italy. “I’m in the clear as far as any other issues go.”

  “Me too.” Eric relaxed and pulled her into his arms. “I’m usually more careful. If anything happens, you’ll tell me, won’t you?”

  His voice sounded soft and timid, not at all his usual gruff, commanding tone. Amanda realized she’d become a member of an exclusive club—women who’d seen Eric Greyford sated and relaxed and vulnerable.

  She kissed his hair. “Would you want to know?”

  “Yes, of course.” He answered without hesitation.

  Her heart gave a little leap. “What would you do if that happened?”

  He said nothing at first, and her heart settled back into its usual pattern.

  “I’d make certain you were properly cared for, you and your baby. I mean, if you decided to have it, of course. I wouldn’t abandon you.”

  Your baby. Not ours.

  Technically, her father hadn’t abandoned her. He’d paid a lot of money for private schools and college to soothe his guilty conscience, and what Eric offered sounded like more of the same. A rich man’s solution to a pesky inconvenience.

  “Don’t worry,” she answered, her tone a little cooler now. “I’ll be fine.” She shoved him away from her, gently but very definitely. “I’m afraid I have to pull myself together and get going, Eric.”

  His lips quirked upward. “Are you giving me the brush off?”

  “I’m supposed to meet Zeke in the foyer. We have to get the photos and text sorted and transmit our story to New York.”

  Eric stood and languidly stretched his graceful body. His shirt was still unbuttoned and Amanda watched in fascination as the muscles in his abdomen rippled.

  He caught her open-mouthed stare. “What?”

  “You’re gorgeous. But you already knew that, right?”

  Eric smiled and said nothing. Obviously, he got that a lot.

  Amanda wiggled into the skirt of the sundress where she sat and only then did she stand up. All this pulling oneself together after the deed seemed even tackier than it did in a bedroom with a guy you’d known for years. She turned her back to Eric as she adjusted the halter-top and reached back to tie the straps. Eric brushed her hands away and tied the bow for her.

  “How very chivalrous of you,” Amanda joked.

  Eric laughed. “I don’t think helping a woman dress after you’ve stripped her naked and had your way with her is part of the definition of chivalry. Unfortunately for me.”

  She turned to face him as he buttoned his shirt and zipped his fly. She tugged at the zipper on the side of the dress several times before it finally moved.

  “Does the zipper still work?” he asked.

  Amanda nodded. She’d been worried about that too, what with the way he’d wrenched it off of her.

  He walked away from her and picked up his jacket, shaking it out a few times, and then shrugging it on. Afterwards, he strode over to the far side of the room and regarded himself in the mirror as he put the finishing touches on his bowtie. “Amanda?”

  “Yes?” She smoothed the skirt down, careful not to meet his eyes.

  Eric cleared his throat. Amanda had the surreal feeling he was nervous.

  “Your hair is a mess now.” He strode across the room to her and reached out, twisting a loose strand around his fingers.

  Amanda flinched, not wanting to seem like an easy target again. He’d annoyed her with that cavalier answer about not abandoning her if she were pregnant. She’d annoyed herself in expecting anything more dramatic in his response. She brushed his hand away. “Is that all you have to say?”

  “I can’t think what I’ve done wrong,” Eric mused. She could hear that sardonic tone in his voice again, the tone he’d used in the hotel room, when he’d made fun of her lack of perfume.

  “What do you mean?” She snapped.

  “Only that you seem rather eager to get out of here.”

  Eric retrieved her barrette from where it had fallen on the couch. Without asking, he combed his fingers through her hair and began to coil it up.

  “Stop. I don’t have time for any more of this.”

  Eric’s hands went still in her hair. “Amanda, let me fix it for you. You can’t walk out with it looking like this.”

  “Fine. But be quick. I have a deadline to meet.” Amanda folded her arms over her chest and clenched her jaw.

  Eric made a clicking noise with his tongue. “My, so impatient to be gone. You could be a man with an attitude like that.”

  Deftly, he gathered her long locks into a mass and then twisted it up, clipping it to the back of her head with her yellow and green butterfly clasp. He turned her to face him and studied her, like an artist ap
praising his own work. Her face heated up and she didn’t even know why. He’d seen her naked, for heaven’s sake, and now she balked?

  “That should do.” He nodded to himself. “It’s not quite the same, but I think it’s close enough.”

  Amanda looked down. “Thank you.”

  She started towards the library door.

  “Where are you going?”

  “I told you, I have a deadline.”

  “So do I,” Eric replied. “In fact, I have to make a business call to London shortly.”

  He poked his tongue into his cheek and walked away from her, dropping onto the couch with his usual animal grace. “I forgot all about it in the heat of the moment.”

  Amanda heard shock and even confusion in his pensive tone.

  “I wouldn’t beat yourself up,” she laughed. “You’re allowed to take time off, aren’t you?”

  “What?” He ran a hand over his jaw, calling Amanda’s attention to the light beard starting to show there. She’d felt it scrape against her neck, her breasts—all over her, really—when he’d done such an expert job of pleasuring her earlier. Now she looked at the stubble, and her body remembered the feel of it again, the satisfying roughness of it as it had rubbed against her softest, most sensitive places. She needed to stop thinking this way. She had no time to fuss over his moods or be lured by the memory of his sexual prowess.

  Yet she stepped away from the library door and peered down at him. “Aren’t you allowed to take time off?”

  “Not lately,” Eric replied. “There’s an important board meeting coming up on Monday, and I have to discuss strategy with my financial manager.”

  He said strategy as if it was one of the most hateful words in the English language.

  “I think you like being COO of Greyford Publishing about as much as I like writing for Fame.” Amanda gave him an encouraging smile.

  “Yes, in that regard, I suppose we are two of a kind.”

  “Maybe we should both quit and start our own business.” Amanda shied away at the startled look in Eric’s blue eyes. Where the hell had that come from? It must be that damned cologne of his again. “Sorry. I was only joking.”