Sweeter Than Chocolate: Valentine's Day Anthology

by Gina Kincade

  Raul tried to keep his face expressionless. He knew his friend was watching him carefully. "That can only be good for me," he said.

  "But awkward tonight at dinner," Stephano added.

  Raul frowned. "I certainly don't intend to tell her any of this while she's at your house party. Nothing can be gained from that." He was having trouble keeping his mind on business, anyway.

  Her stunt in the sauna had been very effective.

  The only thing he could think about right now was how he was going to see those tits again.

  The sooner, the better.

  ***

  Fortunately, Stephano had the good sense to place Raul and Alessandra at opposite ends of the long table for dinner, and she was grateful. Alessandra was too mortified to have the ability to converse with Raul. She found herself seated between Lukas, whom she'd met at the Princess’s dinner, and a bashful man named Roberto. Lukas was entertaining and, when he was occupied with his other seatmate, she spent some time drawing out Roberto.

  Raul was seated between Rafaella, with whom he shared far too many laughs, and Mirella. Ugh. Alessandra was sure both women had designs on him. Even though she liked both of them, jealousy licked through her whenever he had his eyes on one of them. Which was often.

  She was glad when the dinner ended. She intended to go straight to bed, get up in the morning, and try to figure out a way to get back to Tem's house. This weekend had been a disaster. She should have known better than to take on Raul on his own ground.

  She scooted out of the dining room as soon as the dinner broke up, and made her way up the broad staircase from the main foyer. Her feet were silent on the soft, jewel-toned carpet, and her shoulders drooped as a sense of futility stole over her.

  She hadn't accomplished anything on this trip to Austria. She'd been outwitted at every turn by Raul, and she hadn't managed to convince him to back off in his effort to unmask her. She'd have to spend tomorrow thinking of a fresh way to prove her claim to Nona's land, but she was getting discouraged.

  She reached the top of the stairs and turned left. Her room was somewhere on this long, quiet corridor. She frowned. There were a lot of doors that looked the same, cream painted rectangles bisecting the gold patterned wallpaper. Hopefully, she wouldn't try to enter the wrong room.

  A slight sound told her someone else was coming up the main staircase, and she hastened her step. She didn't want to see anyone.

  The person entered the corridor behind her with firm footfalls she felt, rather than heard. She turned, her eyes haloed by the glowing light from the Baccarat chandelier hanging at the top of the stairs. Damn. The very last person she wanted to see was striding down the hall toward her, a dark invading force in the midst of the peaceful gold setting.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Alessandra stopped walking, unconsciously backing up against the wall, knowing she and Raul needed to have the confrontation they were bound to have outside her room. Any interaction in a room with a bed in it could be dangerous.

  The hallway seemed very quiet as he strode silently toward her. She could not read the expression on his face.

  "Okay." Raul stopped in front of her, and trapped her against the wall with his hands on either side of her head. "You win."

  "Win?" Her heart alternated between fluttering with excitement and pounding with something close to dread. What had she unleashed?

  "Your little ploy in the sauna." He traced a finger from her eyebrow, down her cheek, to her mouth. "You remember. When you showed me your breasts."

  She felt her eyes widen in shock. "I—I—"

  He moved his finger to the center of her lips, shushing her with a gentle touch. "There's no need to deny it. I'm already half mad with wanting you."

  "Raul—"

  "We're going in your room now, so you can give me a repeat performance."

  "Absolutely not." Her voice sounded breathless, which wasn't really surprising considering the fact that she was having trouble breathing.

  One side of his mouth kicked up in a grin. "You'd rather do it out here?"

  "I'd rather not do it at all."

  "That's not true, you know." The grin disappeared.

  "Yes, it is." She had to resist the urge to stamp her foot. "You don't know everything."

  "I know one thing." He leaned closer, and she could only breathe in his scent, fire and snow, clean and crisp. "I know a woman doesn't expose herself to a man unless she's interested in him."

  "It was an accident."

  "Wrong."

  "I had no way of knowing you'd be coming into the sauna."

  He pulled back a little, still keeping his palms flat against the wall by her head. She had an almost overwhelming urge to lean forward, into him.

  "Let's try a different approach," he said. "I've already seen your tits, which, by the way, are sexy as hell. What's the harm in letting me see them again?"

  "I can't. Maybe if I had a top on. But this dress—" What on earth was she saying? How could these words be coming out of her mouth? Was she really discussing maybe showing her breasts to him again? His close proximity was scrambling her brain.

  Raul laughed. "Babe, that is the easiest problem of all to solve." His hands dropped from the wall, landed lightly on the nape of her neck, and fondled her there, his long, callused fingers both gentle and rough.

  Goose bumps erupted all over her. She saw his lips curve in a slight smile before he moved down to the zipper at the back of her dress. His fingers latched onto the pull. Slowly, slowly, slowly, giving her every opportunity to object, he drew it down.

  With every little snick of the zipper, her arousal heightened, as if the zipper’s teeth and her hormones were connected by some conjurer's trick.

  Air kissed the opening he exposed on her back. Down, down, down, he continued, almost delicately, until he reached the base of her spine. He rested both hands on the top curve of her buttocks.

  She stood there like a mesmerized snake. What would he do next? How much would he dare? What would she allow?

  She had no answers.

  "I think," he said, his voice very deep, "that we should move this into your room."

  Oh, god. Stiffening, she looked around, horrified. She'd totally forgotten they were standing out in the hallway, where anyone could see them.

  His hands were still on her butt, and he turned her so she was facing down the hall. "Which room is yours," he asked.

  Somehow her feet moved. Forward. She wasn't sure what she was doing, but she knew she couldn't let him undress her in the hallway.

  She stopped in front of her door. Raul reached around her, turned the handle, and nudged her inside. He closed the door and pressed her back up against it, his hands on her hips. "Now where were we?" He smiled down at her.

  Her heart pumped into overdrive. She had to do something, or she'd be naked and under him in five minutes. That smile was lethal. Charming, confident, tender. It was the tenderness that weakened her.

  "What," she said, "did you mean about the sign?"

  "The sign?" He sounded as bewildered as she felt.

  "In the sauna. You said something about the sign."

  He lowered his head so his mouth was scant inches from hers. "The sauna," he said in a low, thrumming voice, "has signs next to both doors, which can be flipped to indicate whether or not the sauna is occupied. The purpose is to make sure that what happened this afternoon doesn't happen. But let me guess. You're about to tell me you didn't know about the sign."

  "I have never been in this house before, so you can set your ego at the door. How would I know about sauna signals? Besides, if I wanted to tease you, I don't need to play tricks to do it."

  "Really?" He raised his eyebrows, his gaze fixed intently on her. "Tease me, then. Go on, do it."

  She sucked in a breath. "I haven't said I want to."

  "But you do." His voice was very deep, low in his throat, almost a growl. "I say you planned that whole escapade in the sauna." He was signaling all the
male signs of arousal, even though she refused to look down below his belt to see the boldest of them all.

  She stared back at him, still spellbound. His will was reaching out to her, demanding she obey, sapping her free will. Or maybe her own traitorous libido was sapping her free will. Because she wanted nothing more than to show herself off to him, to watch his eyes darken further, his breath come even faster, and his body harden in anticipation. She wanted to entice him to give her those reactions, to show her that he wanted her more than he wanted anything, especially some piece of land.

  Did she have the nerve?

  More importantly, would she be able to stop what she started?

  "Let me help you," he murmured. His hands moved to her wrists and then traveled up her arms, caressing them, raising the fine hairs as they reacted to the pleasure of his touch. He stopped when he reached the thin straps that were still holding her dress to her body. "Now all you have to do is give a little shimmy." With his forefingers, he pushed each strap.

  She could not deny him. She shrugged, delicately. Deliberately. Just that little bit. Her silk gown whispered to the floor. But there was nothing she could do. She was held in a thrall as pleasurable as it was binding.

  "You see," Raul whispered. "That was easy."

  "Not really," she answered in her own whisper. "I'm not used to playboy ways."

  He stilled, except for his eyes which flew to her face. "I don't know where you heard that about me, but I gave up my playboy ways, Alessandra. Ask anyone."

  "I didn't know you'd been a second son." The words surprised her, even coming out of her own mouth.

  He stiffened. For the first time this evening, he looked uncomfortable.

  "I'm sorry about your brother," she added.

  He gave a short nod. "An accident. He was an adventurer. Whatever was dangerous drew him like a flower draws a bee. Until his recklessness did him in, he was the heir and I was the ne'er-do-well." His mouth twisted, as if the words hurt him.

  "You were never a ne'er-do-well," she protested. She had to say something to take that look off his face.

  "A playboy, then. Certainly not the son who embodied the hopes and dreams of his parents."

  "That would be your older brother?"

  He nodded shortly.

  Ouch. Alessandra hardly knew what to say. There was a lot of bitterness wrapped up in those words.

  "Our parents were broken when my brother died." He stopped speaking for a minute, his eyes gazing off. "Let's face it, we all were. His death left a hole in our family that will never be filled."

  What could she say? Some things couldn't be gotten over, and that was a fact. Death was one of them.

  "I know you have a sister in Paris," she said tentatively. For some reason, she thought it might help him to talk about his family. "Do you have other siblings?"

  He smiled, and she was startled at the tenderness in his eyes. "I have another sister who's twelve. The baby of the family."

  "Are you fond of her?"

  His gaze flew to hers. "Of course I am. What kind of a question is that?"

  "Whenever you talk about your older sister, you seem annoyed."

  He was quiet for a long moment, and she thought maybe she'd pushed him too far. His family dynamics were really none of her business.

  "She spends money we don't have," he said shortly. "But let's not talk about that. Right now I have something else I want to do."

  He closed the distance between them, and his mouth met hers. The shock jolted through her, as if the chandelier in the hallway had burst upon her, exploding light within her body. Her mouth fell open and he swept in, strong and hot, driving additional flames throughout her.

  Her arms went around his neck and she pressed against him, on fire for the feel of him hard against her, signaling a desire to match hers. She moaned, and felt his arms tighten around her, his tongue plunder more deeply.

  She breathed in his scent, sure she would never get enough.

  When he broke the contact, she moaned again. She couldn't be apart from him.

  He gave a low laugh. "Patience, babe." He picked her up in his arms and walked over to the bed. She felt the cloth of his dinner jacket on her bare breasts, and remembered that he was fully dressed and she was fully naked. His eyes devoured her as he leaned down to gently deposit her on the bed, as if she were a precious object.

  "Eeek!" She tried to push herself out of his arms.

  "What?" He frowned suddenly, his brows a dark slash in his intent face.

  "Don't put me on top of the bedspread, or whatever it is. It's silk! It's white!"

  "What?" he repeated. "Are we having a decorating moment?"

  She had to giggle, as undignified as that seemed when she was draped all naked all over his arms. "I don't want to ruin the bedspread."

  Raul burst into laughter. "The bedspread? You think Stephano cares about that?"

  "Excuse me." She was a little hurt at his laughter. "I'm not familiar with a lifestyle where people don't have to take care of the things they're lucky enough to own."

  Raul's brow creased. "I thought you told me you were rich?"

  "That was insecurity talking." She tried to scooch closer to him to be less visible. Yum. His fire scent had wiped out the usual note of snow.

  "And," she added, "I feel pretty insecure being naked when you're fully dressed."

  He set her down on her feet. "Hold on a sec. Just to make you happy, I'm going to get rid of the damn bedspread." With one sweep of his arm, he yanked it off the bed, and tossed it on the floor.

  For some reason, that made her start laughing. "You see? You all live in a world I can't even imagine."

  "Wait just a minute." He picked her up again, his arms sliding under her back, while his eyes caressed her front. "Who's this 'all' you're talking about? Stephano is rich, yeah, but I'm not."

  She laughed harder. "Raul, are you crazy? I was at your castle. I've ridden in your limo."

  "That's for show. For my parents. They don't want to accept our circumstances. My mother insists on the car. The castle is—our heritage. Crumbling, mostly closed up. But ours."

  "The Valentine’s Day ball?"

  He shook his head. "For charity, nothing more."

  She stared at him. The kaleidoscope was whirling again. Who was this man she'd thought was a rich royal of England, a man who beckoned, and the world came?

  He leaned down. "All this talk is fine, but only because it's giving me time to look at your beautiful breasts."

  She shivered, even though the heat in his eyes was warming her.

  "Now," he said, "I'm going to touch them."

  He could be very direct, and somehow that appealed to her. She shuddered with pleasure.

  But he didn't move. Instead he kept his eyes on her face until she met his gaze. "You want me to," he murmured. "Don't you?"

  "Raul," she whispered, unable to say more. She'd been expecting him to be self-assured, confident, even expert in handling a woman. And he was those things. But he was more. He was tender, clever, and patient.

  In the face of her silence, he placed his hands on her collarbone, one on either side, and began to stroke down. Slowly, slowly giving her all the time in the world to object, once again. He had infinite patience, which fueled her impatience.

  Helplessly, she arched her back.

  He gave a low laugh. "So sexy," he murmured. Finally, he reached her breasts. But he continued the slow and steady caressing that focused her into nothing but a yearning bundle of need.

  "Do you know how much I've wanted to do this," he murmured.

  Her eyes widened. He was going to seduce her not just with touch, but with words as well. She'd been sure she could hold him off, but her certainty was wavering, circling in her brain just like his teasing fingers circled her breasts.

  She knew suddenly that he would continue talking, reassuring her, allowing her to learn what she needed to know about him to feel comfortable while naked in his arms.

  An
d talk might be the only thing that could save her, by distracting her.

  "Tell me about your family," she said.

  He sucked in a sharp breath, but after he blew it out, he began talking.

  "My older brother was a superstar. Everything he touched turned to gold. So naturally, our parents were counting on him to save us. The superstar would repair our fortunes."