by Annie West
She had no need to trap him. He was only too eager. He surged, wedging her back against the wall. His skin was too tight to hold the rising tide of need.
Through slitted eyes he saw the flush of arousal on her cheeks, the long line of her throat as she tilted her head back and her pure alabaster breast, tipped a delicate rose pink.
He’d never seen anything so arousing in his life. Or so beautiful. For a heartbeat he stilled, drinking in the sight of her, tenderness vying with pure animal lust at the way she opened herself to him.
Then her hand brushed the straining zip of his trousers and his body’s needs banished all else. Between them they fumbled his zip down. Somehow Domenico freed himself of his underwear, not even bothering to wrench his belt undone.
He let his palms slide up the smooth invitation of her thighs, rucking up her skirt as he went. Quickly he reached for her panties, meaning to haul them aside just enough, but he misjudged his grip. They tore and fell, leaving her completely open.
‘Lucy.’ His voice clogged deep in his throat but she heard because she opened heavy eyes. Her blue gaze was feverish and he couldn’t mistake the desire he saw there.
Yes! This was what he wanted from her. Total abandonment. His blood sang with triumph.
With a last shred of sanity Domenico reached for his wallet. Was there a condom there? He wasn’t into one-night stands but the habits of youth, or of caution were ingrained. Hopefully...
Lucy kissed him hard, her tongue swirling, drawing him towards oblivion as she tightened her legs. His erection surged, brushing soft hair and even softer skin.
Domenico’s pulse drummed a rough staccato beat as they moved together in an age-old rhythm. Arousal escalated to breaking point. One hand at Lucy’s breast, he clamped the other around her calf, loving the feel of her encompassing him.
With each slide of their bodies against each other combustible heat rose. She felt so good. So perfect against his needy erection. He tilted his hips, enjoying the way she shivered against his shaft. Once more then he’d reach for...
Lucy hoisted herself higher, and on the next slow surge Domenico found himself positioned perfectly. Too perfectly, he realised as he slid a fraction into tight, slick pleasure.
He gritted his teeth, moving his hands to her hips, ready to withdraw and keep them safe. All he had to do was summon the willpower to withstand temptation. It would only be for a moment and then—
Lucy moved against him again, but this time it was a jerky rock of the hips. Her legs clamped tight as a hoarse gasp of shock filled his ears. She shuddered around him. Her body convulsed and Domenico felt her muscles ripple, urging him on. His eyes snapped open and he caught her gaze as she came apart, wonder in her eyes.
Need destroyed thought. He reacted instinctively, thrusting deep. For a teetering moment her body resisted, impossibly tight. So tight there could be only one reason for it. One that blew everything he’d heard about her out of the water. Stunned, he grappled to make sense of it.
Then coherent thought was obliterated as, with a sudden rush he was there at the heart of her, deep enough to feel the last of her shudders against his sensitive flesh.
The sensations were too much, especially with Lucy abandoned and delicious around him. With a cry of triumph he arched high and hard, pumping into her welcoming warmth.
Behind his closed eyes stars and planets whirled, whole constellations and galaxies burst into life and showered light in a dazzling, mind-blowing display. The ecstasy of release was so intense he wondered if he’d survive.
Through it all he felt Lucy’s ragged breath on his face, her hands clutching as if she’d never release him.
* * *
When Lucy came to she was lying on the wide bed, under a sheet. She had no recollection of Domenico crossing the room and stripping the sheet back. She’d been dazed and disoriented by that cataclysmic orgasm. Remembering made her shiver, reawakening muscles she hadn’t realised she possessed.
‘Cold?’ Domenico’s voice rumbled from the other side of the bed.
She smiled slowly. Did she have the energy to speak?
‘Lucy? Are you okay?’ The strain in Domenico’s voice puzzled her.
‘Never better.’ Her words slurred as if she’d been drinking. She felt marvellous. Wonderful. She sank into the feather pillow. This was utter bliss. Only one thing was missing. ‘Hold me? Please?’
Silence.
‘Domenico?’
‘You should rest.’
Something in his voice made her drag her eyes open.
He stood on the far side of the bed, fully dressed, the picture of urbane sophistication but for the frown creasing his brow.
Gone was the out-of-control lover. This man didn’t have so much as a hair out of place.
For the first time Lucy realised she was naked beneath the sheet. She vaguely recalled her buttons scattering as he’d tugged her shirt open. Her panties were history, a torn scrap on the floor somewhere. But the rest of her clothes? How could she not have noticed him undressing her?
Uneasily she shifted and felt moisture between her legs. Fire scorched her cheeks. She was wet from Domenico. Her belly clenched at the memory of him pumping into her. The power and stark beauty of what they’d shared overwhelmed her.
Looking at his closed face now, she saw Domenico didn’t share her joy. He looked as if he’d just made the worst mistake of his life.
In a rush all her pleasure bled away.
‘Good idea,’ she murmured through frozen vocal cords. ‘I think I’ll rest.’ She rolled away from him, wincing as tender muscles protested.
‘Lucy?’ His voice came closer. She shut her eyes. She’d never felt more vulnerable.
‘Go away. I don’t want to talk.’
The bed sank as he sat beside her, making her roll forwards. Putting out an arm to steady herself, she touched solid muscle beneath his cotton shirt. Instantly she dragged her hand back as if stung. She sucked in a shocked breath as skittering awareness filled her. How could that be when she was completely spent after that no-holds-barred loving?
Sex, she reminded herself. Domenico would call it sex. She refused to consider what she’d call it.
She thrust to the back of her mind the feelings she had for him. The ones that grew stronger daily. The ones that had burst into full bloom when he’d called her his family and hugged her in front of that crowd. He’d acted like a man who’d defend her no matter what it cost.
That one act had shattered the last of her fragile defences.
Her mouth trembled as she acknowledged how much he meant to her. How much his good opinion mattered.
This had nothing to do with her years of sexual abstinence and everything to do with Domenico the man.
‘Lucy?’ A light touch on her forehead stilled her heart. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘Sorry?’ Her eyes popped open.
‘What I did just then...’
‘What we did.’ That was the magic of it.
‘I was stupid and selfish.’
‘What?’ She’d lost track of their conversation.
He leaned close and Lucy inhaled the addictive scent of him, layered with something warm and spicy. The scent of sex, she realised.
‘I didn’t use a condom.’ His glittering eyes held hers as she processed what he said. ‘There’s no excuse for what I did. But believe me, it wasn’t deliberate.’
How could she not have noticed? Not even spared a thought for her safety?
Biting her lip, she sat up, dragging the sheet with her. She thought she’d matured—no longer the naïve girl who’d made the mistake of letting a predatory male into her room. She’d prided herself on her ability to protect herself. Yet she’d had unprotected sex.
‘If it’s any help, I can tell you I have no infectious diseases.’
She nodded, avoiding his eyes. After what they’d shared it was stupid to feel embarrassed but she was. ‘Me too.’
But that left the risk of pregnancy.
/> Her heart crashed against her ribs. Pregnant with Domenico’s baby?
The complications would be enormous. The divided loyalties, the sheer impossibility of it. And yet... Lucy pressed her palm to her stomach. Was it even possible?
Wonder filled her and a niggling sensation that felt like hope.
She’d always wanted children. Nothing had changed that, not even her stint in prison. If anything, that had consolidated her need for a family of her own now her dad was gone.
‘You’re not on the Pill, are you?’
The hope on his face soured her pleasure. ‘No. Surprisingly, I wasn’t planning on sex with the first man I met when I left prison.’
Except it was more than sex. It was liking, caring, and something she didn’t want to name.
‘If there’s a baby—’
‘Yes?’ She felt herself freeze. Yet who could blame him for not wanting her to carry his child? Her heart dipped as she braced herself.
‘If there’s a baby you won’t be alone.’
Her head jerked up and his silvery gaze snared her.
Did he have any idea how much his words meant? Imagine the scandal if she of all people bore his child! She’d half expected him to talk about a termination, not to reassure her.
She opened her mouth then found she couldn’t speak. She nodded, dazzled by the warmth his words evoked. For the first time in ages she wasn’t alone.
‘I didn’t hurt you?’ His words were abrupt, scattering her thoughts.
Hurt her? He had to be kidding.
‘I’m no china doll, you know.’
For a fleeting instant she thought she saw a smile, a masculine smirk of satisfaction quiver on his lips then disappear. She must have imagined it. When she reached out to touch him he shot to his feet as if scalded.
Lucy frowned, watching him pace across the room. He looked out of the window.
‘But you were a virgin.’ He ploughed his hands through his crisp dark hair. In a man so controlled it was a sign of major turmoil.
A presentiment of fear scudded through her.
Ridiculous! What was there to fear?
Yet why make such a big deal about her inexperience? It hadn’t stopped them. She’d wanted him and he’d wanted her and the result had been glorious.
‘It doesn’t matter, Domenico. Really.’
Her words made no difference. He held himself ramrod stiff, tension in every line of his body.
‘It matters.’ His tone was harsh.
He swung round, his expression shuttered, no sign of warmth. His eyes were steely, devoid of the connection she’d imagined there.
‘I...’ Her words trailed off as realisation smashed into her in a sickening blow. She pressed a hand to her belly. Her heart nosedived as her last meal surged upwards.
It couldn’t be true. It couldn’t!
She jack-knifed out of bed, yanking the sheet around her with shaking hands.
‘Why does it matter, Domenico?’ Her voice was a scratch of sound, barely audible over her pounding heart.
In vain she waited for him to assure her it didn’t. That he was just concerned he hadn’t hurt her.
He said nothing.
The shaking in her legs worsened.
She couldn’t drag her eyes from his. Domenico’s expression was impenetrable. He didn’t want her reading his thoughts.
There could only be one reason for that. One reason why the knowledge of her virginity turned him to stone.
Her blood ran cold.
‘You utter bastard!’ She heaved in a shuddering breath. Only sheer willpower kept her on her feet. ‘You wanted proof, didn’t you? Proof that I was telling you the truth?’ She pulled herself up as straight as she could despite the cramping pain in her stomach.
‘That’s what this was about! You couldn’t let me leave without knowing once and for all if I lied when I said I wasn’t your brother’s lover or killer.’ She drew a breath so sharp it sliced straight through her ribs. ‘When I claimed in court to be a virgin.’
Lucy marched across the room on stiff legs, kicking aside the dragging sheet. He stood still as a graven image.
‘You had sex with me to find out if I was innocent or guilty! Didn’t you?’
She raised her hand and smacked him across the cheek with such force her hand smarted and her arm ached. But it was nothing to the raw, bleeding anguish of her lacerated heart.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
HE DESERVED THAT slap, and more.
Not because he’d had sex with Lucy as some test, but because of the hurt ravaging her features.
He’d known she was stretched to breaking point by what life had thrown at her. She’d confounded the odds and stayed strong despite everything. But he’d seen behind the bravado to the woman who’d faced down disenchantment, betrayal, injustice and pain. The woman who bled inside but would rather die than show it.
Her prickly defensiveness hid a vulnerability that had first intrigued but latterly worried him.
Now he’d added to her pain.
Because he couldn’t keep his trousers zipped!
She spun around, the sheet flouncing as she made to stalk away.
His hand snapped out and imprisoned her wrist, jerking her to a stop.
‘Let me go. Now!’ She had her back to him but Domenico knew she spoke through gritted teeth.
‘Not yet. Not till you’ve heard me out.’
‘Heard you explain why it was necessary to get naked with me?’ A shudder racked her. ‘Oh, that’s right. You didn’t get naked, did you?’ Her voice dripped sarcasm. ‘That would be taking it too far, wouldn’t it? Why go to so much effort when all you had to do was—’
‘Basta!’
She whipped round to face him, her eyes burning like embers, her colour high. ‘No! That’s not enough. You can’t silence me.’
‘Not even to hear what I have to say?’ God help him, but seeing her so passionate, so vibrant, he wanted her again. More urgently than before. Heat drenched him and his body hardened.
He wanted to smother her anger and her protests with his mouth, strip away that damned sheet and take her again and again till she was boneless and didn’t have the strength to snark at him.
He wanted to conquer her even as he revelled in her strength and defiance.
Ma che cavolo! What she did to him! What had happened to his ordered, structured life, where sex was simple, satisfying and civilised?
He stepped in and saw her eyes widen. Something other than fury flickered in those blue depths. Disappointment? Pain?
His urgency deflated to manageable levels.
‘I didn’t have sex with you to check if you’d slept with Sandro.’
‘As if I’d believe that now. You heard me say in court I wasn’t your brother’s lover. If you’d believed me it wouldn’t have been a shock to you.’
Domenico swallowed. ‘It’s not that simple.’
‘Not simple?’ Her voice rose. ‘Either you believed me or you didn’t.’
He shook his head, for the first time he could remember, floundering.
How did he explain he’d compartmentalised his thoughts—separating his strengthening belief in Lucy’s innocence from the harsh fact of Sandro’s death? In his heart he’d been convinced Lucy wasn’t the woman they’d all believed. Yet he hadn’t followed through to formulate the alternative in his mind. He’d been too busy reacting to her to think logically. He’d been too addled by lust and all the other wild emotions she dragged from him.
And too horrified at what he’d have to confront if she was innocent—the enormity of how he’d failed her.
‘I knew you weren’t the woman we’d thought. I knew you weren’t totally guilty.’
‘Totally guilty.’ Her voice was flat. ‘That’s nice. So I was just a little guilty. Which bit? Maybe I didn’t kill Sandro but slept with him for money? Is that what you thought?’
‘No! Don’t talk like that.’ The idea of her and Sandro together had eaten like acid in hi
s belly for too long. Even now when he knew the truth, Domenico couldn’t stomach the idea of her with anyone else.
He might be bigger and stronger than her, he might hold her in an unbreakable grip, but she had him reeling.
‘I wasn’t thinking! All right?’ Tension crackled along his spine, augmented by the hefty dose of guilt weighing his belly. ‘I wasn’t planning to prove anything except how good we’d be together. Satisfied?’
His belligerent tone concealed the fear he’d felt, watching her pack. The thought of her leaving had gutted him, forcing him into actions that weren’t planned but driven by his soul-deep instinct not to let her go.
‘No, you weren’t thinking.’ Her face was pale and set. ‘If you had been you’d have realised my virginity—’ she said the word as if swallowing something nasty ‘—isn’t proof I’m not a killer. The court rejected my offer of a virginity test, remember?’
Fire branded her cheeks and Domenico swallowed hard, remembering the day in court when the relevance of her virginity had been debated back and forth. His stomach dropped. How hard it must have been for an eighteen-year-old innocent, with no one but an impersonal lawyer to support her.
‘I’m sorry.’ His touch gentled on her wrist. ‘That must have been horrific.’
Lucy blinked and stared as if seeing him for the first time. ‘It was like being violated while the world watched.’
He felt her skin prickle and smoothed his thumb over her wrist. Guilt soured his tongue and sliced through what was left of his self-respect. How had he got it all so wrong and let her suffer so?
‘My inexperience doesn’t prove I’m innocent.’ She spoke softly now, as if the fire in her belly had died.
Domenico wanted to wrap her in his arms and haul her to him, but one false move would have her lashing out. His cheek still burned from that slap. Not that he cared about being hurt. What he cared about was not hurting her.
Hell of a rotten job he’d done so far.
‘For all you know,’ she went on, ‘I was leading your brother on, like they said, holding out the promise of sex for jewellery and money. Whether I’d actually spread my legs for him doesn’t matter.’