“Yeah, if you say so.” Zeke chuckled. “Hey, I’m glad you’re learning to use your real talents. Think how proud Dan would be if you told her about it. Not to mention your father.”
Amanda glowered at him.
“What? You can get a lot of hot news stories when some guy starts spilling his guts in bed. By the way, where’d you get the tip about Stacey Dakota and that wedding planner? Did you sleep with someone for that one?”
“Zeke!” Amanda stalked over to the desk and swatted him upside the head.
Zeke didn’t even blink.
Amanda stomped out onto the balcony and gazed at the café across the street.
“Should I go ahead and hit send?” Zeke called out to her.
“Go on,” she agreed. As if I care.
After a moment, Zeke joined her on the balcony. He nodded in the direction of the café. “They have good food there. I was thinking of heading over for some late night dinner. You want anything?”
“We ate at the party.”
“I didn’t eat much. Hard to take photographs if your hands are full of canapés.” Zeke nudged her shoulder. “I doubt you had much to eat either, what with being otherwise engaged.”
Amanda’s face burned scarlet. “Stop it! Go get dinner, and I’ll see you in the morning.”
Zeke was laughing at her openly now.
“Whatever.” His laughter persisted all the way out into the corridor.
As soon as he’d gone, Amanda ran into the bathroom. She hadn’t cleaned up since coming back from the cocktail party, because she and Zeke were in a hurry to transmit the article and the photos. Now at last she could freshen up, maybe even splurge with some of that fancy perfume from the shop on the Via Camerelle. Or would he like her better without the perfume?
Amanda had restrained her excitement while Zeke plodded through photo after photo. Now all of it exploded out of her like fireworks. Suddenly she was seventeen again and getting ready for the high school prom, waiting for Kevin Dortlander to pick her up in his father’s truck.
At least Eric wouldn’t be nearly as disappointing as the grabby, inexperienced Kevin Dortlander. She’d tested out the merchandise this time—and she liked it quite a bit. She liked him more than she should, considering his reputation as a heartbreaker.
She decided to skip the perfume, not wanting to appear too eager to please. Instead, she settled for a hasty bath, but no sooner than she’d settled into the tub, there was a knock at her door. That couldn’t be Eric yet. Nonetheless, her blood pounded in her ears as she dripped her way across the bathroom floor.
“Is that you, Zeke?” She called as she snatched up her bathrobe. “We are not sending anymore photos to Dan tonight.”
She tied the sash around her waist and threw open the door. “I’m not kidding—”
Eric leaned in the doorframe, looking strikingly young in a faded pair of jeans and a plain white tee. He held a bottle of champagne and two glasses. Eying her up and down, he flashed a warm, appreciative smile, full of sex and empty promises.
“Ah,” he said. “I’m so pleased to see you’ve dressed appropriately for the occasion.”
TEN
“Is that champagne?” Amanda asked as she stepped aside.
He slipped past her in the doorway, brushing against her chest as he passed.
“Indeed it is.”
“Wow, I must be pretty good.”
Eric placed the bottle and glasses on a small table near the door. Then he stepped close and pulled her against his chest. “Indeed you are. And I am in a celebratory mood because of it.”
“What, you’re celebrating me?” Amanda heard herself giggling like a schoolgirl.
“Why not?”
“That could get expensive if we have sex a lot,” Amanda cautioned him.
“True. Perhaps Franco will give me a discount on prosecco instead. I’ll need it, at least for the next year or so.”
“You’ll need a discount?” Amanda laughed out loud.
“I’m buying back my family’s company.” He uncorked the champagne. “I’ve told my financial manager to buy back as many shares of stock as possible. In the end, I plan to buy it all back, but I’ll have to liquidate some other investments next week in order to buy more shares.”
Amanda smiled at him. “No wonder you’re so happy. You’re completely in control of everything now.”
The champagne cork exploded out of the bottle with a pop, and the frothy liquid bubbled down the side of the bottle. Amanda held out a glass and Eric poured.
“You see, that’s where you’re completely wrong.” His cheeks dimpled and his eyes glowed as he spoke. “This is more like skydiving without a parachute than running a business. This is insane. I could fail spectacularly. If I do, the company could wind up worthless and bankrupt, as will I. Because I’m certainly not going to save myself by selling it to that bastard Tate.”
“Are you drunk?” Amanda asked, narrowing her eyes.
Eric put down the bottle and wandered into her bathroom, coming out with a towel.
“No.” He dried his hands, looking down at them as he spoke. “That night at the Arco Naturale—”
Amanda blushed at the memory.
“I realized later you were quite right. I was very afraid for you. I’ve been afraid every day since my brother died. Afraid someone else will die. Afraid I’ll lose this business that my great-grandfather built from nothing. Most of all, afraid I’d lose myself in the process of trying to save the damned thing.”
He raised his glass. “I’ve never been a fearful person. It was such a new sensation for me, it took a while to identify it. Thank you for helping me do so.”
“Oh, Eric,” Amanda floundered. Her brain was in chaos. You didn’t say things like this to someone who meant nothing to you. Could it be some complicated new seduction strategy? He didn’t need that to get her into bed. All he had to do was ask, and she would sink beneath him like a wave.
He tossed aside the towel and closed the distance between them. “I don’t want to become my brother. I thought I did, but I don’t. He was a lonely man. No wife, no children, no lover. At least, none I know of. All this time, I’ve been plodding through the days, thinking I had to be like that in order to run Greyford Publishing. But I can’t live that way. A man has to take chances or life becomes too grey and colorless and meaningless. Stumbling upon you has reminded me how much I enjoy taking risks.”
“I did that?”
“You did.” His fingertips skimmed lightly over her forehead, her cheeks, her lips. His hands slipped down, around her waist, and he hugged her against his body. The hardness of him stirred against her belly and a satiny smooth heat simmered up in her.
“You inspire me,” Eric said.
He was entirely too good at this. Soon Amanda would believe every honey-coated word he said. Soon she’d believe she mattered to him. As he reached down and untied the sash of her robe, she decided she didn’t care whether he was telling the truth. All that mattered was her own longing to be filled up by him and swept away from the real world. No one else had ever managed to make her feel so thoroughly swept away. So for tonight, she’d give his sweet words the benefit of the doubt.
He slipped his hands inside her robe and caressed her naked body. His practiced fingers stroked the engorged tips of her breasts and then moved downward, settling on her hips. Amanda caught the hem of his t-shirt and pushed it up, gliding her palms over his smooth, well-muscled chest. Eric released her and tugged off the shirt, tossing it to the floor. A rush of overwhelming longing flooded her body, and Amanda unbuttoned his jeans. It went far more smoothly than it had in the library. For one thing, he hadn’t worn any underwear this time. After all he’d come to her for only one thing.
When she stroked her fingers over his silky length, he groaned. She grasped him more firmly and he cursed under his breath. “Damn, but you drive me mad.”
He tried to pull away from her, but she held tight.
“Stop. Am
anda, please.”
Relaxing her hold, she flashed a cat-like grin at him. “Do many women get to hear you beg for mercy like that?”
Eric tangled his hands in her hair and pulled her closer to him. “None. Not ever,” he answered. “But I promised you all night, and we’ll be done in five minutes if you keep doing what you’re doing.”
His mouth clamped down on hers with an almost angry ferocity. The electric charge from his kiss rippled down Amanda’s spine, leaving sparks in its wake.
Afterward, he pressed his forehead against hers. “The more I’m with you, the more I want you. Why is that, do you think?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I feel the same way.”
Eric bent and effortlessly lifted her into his arms, as if she were no more than a feather. She let out a short gasp of surprise.
“I’ve never been swept off my feet before.”
He lowered her to the bed and sat down beside her. “You should be swept off your feet regularly. I should like to be the man who does it.”
“That sounds like a fine plan to me.”
Eric stood and reached into his jeans pockets.
“I’m better prepared this time.” He tossed several condom packets onto the nightstand, and Amanda laughed.
“Very good. You could be a boy scout.”
“Love, I’m trying to do the right thing. Don’t make fun of me.” Eric kicked off a pair of deck shoes and peeled off his jeans, revealing his fantastic tight buttocks and lean, muscular legs.
Amanda’s whole body tingled at the sight of him naked and aroused. She held her breath, waiting for him to touch her. He climbed onto the bed and stretched out beside her, nudging open her robe and resting his hand on her breast.
“Stop teasing me,” she begged.
“Stop rushing me,” Eric retorted. “We said this would take all night.”
***
It didn’t, not quite. But it took hours. Hours of the most magnificent sensations Amanda had ever experienced in her life.
At first, they came together with frantic need, neither able to hold back and go as slowly as they’d promised. He thrust into her with the desperation of a condemned man, reducing her to helpless tears again. She tried to hold them back, knowing they’d upset him the first time. She couldn’t understand what was happening to her; she’d never before cried during sex. When she told him that, he laughed.
“I don’t know whether this is a compliment or an insult.”
“It’s no insult,” she assured him, and so they began again.
After the second, more languid round of lovemaking, Eric retrieved the champagne and glasses and brought them to the bed.
He settled in the middle of the tangled sheets, cross-legged and naked. His confidence in his own gorgeous attributes awed Amanda. She tried to imagine the privileged life that led someone to be so sure of his own attractiveness.
“You aren’t self-conscious, are you?” she teased.
“No, and nor should you be.” He sat the champagne on the nightstand and tried to wrestle her out of the sheet she’d wound round her body. It turned into an X-rated game of Keep Away, which Amanda lost—or won, depending on one’s point of view. They laughed and rolled together in the bed like teenagers who’d discovered sex for the first time. Eric dove under the tangled sheet and parted Amanda’s legs, kissing his way up their length.
“How can I keep wanting you this much?” she marveled, abandoning herself to the rising tide of desire and tossing back the sheet.
Eric nipped at her thighs and belly and slithered up her body, nuzzling her neck with another cascade of kisses. He wrapped his arms around her and rolled onto his back, settling her above his belly.
“Condom,” she managed to gasp out as she rolled away from him.
Obediently, he fumbled for the packet on the nightstand. She knew it was pointless—they’d both been so careless tonight. Any damage had probably been done back in the library, but this gave them both the illusion of safety and self-control. Amanda desperately wanted to believe she was still in control of her urges. She’d begun this as an experiment, an attempt at being the kind of girl who could have crazy sex with no emotional attachment. She’d got the crazy sex part right. She wasn’t so sure about avoiding the emotional attachment.
Condom in place, Eric pulled her down close to him and kissed her again. He twisted her head to the side and flicked his tongue around the rim of her ear. With magnificent grace, he flipped her onto her back. Then he plunged into her until she imagined she could feel him right beneath her heart. She shuddered, every nerve ending quivering as she spasmed tight around the fierce hardness of him. He cursed again and wrapped her in his arms, lifting her towards him.
Amanda cried out, digging her nails into his back. An arc of electricity shot through her and she wound her legs tight around him, squeezing his hips in a merciless embrace.
With one last stroke, Eric groaned and erupted inside her again. “I should have brought more champagne,” he rasped. “I wanted to toast you.”
A breathy sound escaped Amanda’s lips, part sigh and part laugh. “Again? Why?”
“You’re the best I’ve ever had,” he whispered as he collapsed against her chest. He slipped out of her and lay beside her in serene silence. Periodically, he played with the long strands of her hair, or brushed a finger over her lips. The blue of his eyes seemed to grow darker as he studied her.
Amanda kept replaying his words in her head. The best ever? It had definitely been the best for her, but she didn’t have much basis for comparison. Or did he say that to all the women? Perhaps he even believed it—believed each time was the best he’d ever had. If he could convince himself of something like that, it would probably explain his formidable reputation as a lover.
She masked her own insecurity with another display of cheerful teasing. “Are we done so soon? I thought you promised me all night.”
Eric nudged her onto her side and then curled up behind her, resting his chin on her shoulder. “I’ll give you more in a little while, you insatiable woman. For now, just let me hold you.”
Amanda took a shaky breath and covered his hand with her own. “I’d like that.”
“Besides,” Eric said. “At this rate, we’ll use up all the condoms, love. Then we’ll have to get creative. Or throw caution to the wind.”
“You keep saying you’re not a cautious man,” Amanda shot back.
“Are you challenging me again? Do you like to aggravate me?” He wrapped his arms around her waist and tickled her.
Amanda giggled and rolled to face him. “Yes, I think I do.”
Eric shook his head and gave a short laugh. “Fine. I welcome it.” He pulled her over, so that her head rested on his chest. Amanda was filled with such peace and contentment, the kind she hadn’t known since childhood. She closed her eyes and slept in his arms.
***
Some time before dawn, she woke to find herself alone in the bed. Her spirits sank. The whole night had been such a whirlwind, but she’d really expected him to stay. The sexy words he’d murmured to her as he plunged into her body, the sweet words he’d whispered when he held her afterwards—none of it had meant all that much, because he hadn’t even said good-bye. Rolling out of the bed, she slipped into her robe and made her way to the bathroom. Returning, she noticed the French doors standing open. Two years in New York City had taken their toll. Now Amanda couldn’t sleep securely with open windows and doors, not this close to ground level.
She padded across the room, planning to lock the doors. When she got there, she spied Eric sitting on the terrace, chair tipped back on its rear legs and bare feet propped up on the railing. He wore nothing but his jeans, and those he hadn’t bothered to button. As she watched, he sipped from one of the forgotten champagne glasses and gazed out at the nearly deserted café across the street. A quiet smile played on his beautifully defined lips.
“Hey,” she said softly as she stepped onto the terrace.
“Hey.” He lowered his legs and rocked the chair back into its upright position.
“I thought you’d gone. I came near to locking you out here on the balcony.”
Eric smiled up at her but didn’t speak. He sat the bottle and glass on a small side table.
“Is anything wrong?”
“Absolutely not.” He patted his thighs and then opened his arms, gesturing for her to sit down.
She went to him and wrapped her arms around his neck. Then she lowered herself to his lap. Eric rested his head against her breast.
“I can hear your heart beating.”
She didn’t know why, but that simple sentence moved her in a way that nothing else he’d said had done. There was such a gentle sincerity about the way he said it, as if he were privileged to be so close to her. Eric drew her down, cupping her face in his hands.
“How much do you care that I’m all out of condoms?”
Amanda smiled. “Not much at all.”
Eric untied her robe and grasped her waist. “Turn this way.”
He nudged her legs so that she understood his meaning. He wanted her to straddle him, right there on the balcony.
“What if someone sees?”
Eric’s hands traveled up and down her body under the robe, setting her libido on high alert. Wet heat pooled between her legs as he touched her.
“To tell the truth, I don’t much care if they do,” he said. “I don’t care if the whole world knows.”
Eric shifted his hips and his steely length worked its way free of the jeans.
“Eric,” Amanda groaned. “Right here?”
The urge to please him, to please herself, overrode all notions of sense or propriety. It was night on the Isle of Capri, after all.
She rose up slightly and then sank down on him, moaning soft and low as he filled her up and began thrusting into her. In only a few days time, this man had turned her into a wanton sex maniac, willing to perform for him in public under a canopy of stars and darkness. Had he changed her, or had he awakened something that had always been inside her?
“I don’t even know myself with you,” she whispered as he pulsed inside her.
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