The Flaw in Raffaele's Revenge (Harlequin Presents)

by Annie West

  * * *

  ‘It’s not okay.’ Her voice hit a discordant note and he heard her fight back tears. ‘Please, Raffaele. Please leave.’

  Her pain tore Raffa’s heart. He’d never heard Lily beg. He hated the sound of vulnerability—worse, of defeat. She was stronger than anyone he knew. He wrapped a hand around her back, the other plundering the silken softness of her hair as he held her close.

  He breathed in the subtle sweet-as-fruit fragrance of her skin. He couldn’t leave her like this, believing her looks had driven him away. It would only reinforce those negative feelings about her scar.

  Raffa told himself he was here for Lily’s sake. But he was selfish. He’d followed her because he couldn’t walk away, despite knowing he wasn’t the man she needed.

  ‘I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me.’

  ‘But you said...’ Her voice was muffled, her lips caressing his collarbone, shooting sensation to his groin.

  ‘What I said was right. I should go. But I can’t. I want you too much.’

  Later he’d regret this. Lily would too. But it was beyond him to turn back.

  He’d never pretended to be a man of honour. Hadn’t he spent his life pandering to excess and self-indulgence? Hadn’t he built his fortune on the desire for pleasure? Sure, it had been about providing pleasure for others, but he wasn’t spotless. He’d learned to grab what he wanted whenever and wherever temptation offered.

  He wanted now.

  How badly he wanted.

  Bending at the knees, he slipped an arm beneath her legs, another around her back, and hiked her up in his arms. She was all sinuous, lissom curves and smooth, fragrant flesh. Her hair spilled over his bare arm and even that notched his need higher.

  Her gasp was loud but it barely registered over the racing thud of his heartbeat as he headed for the bedroom. She’d left her shutters wide open and there was enough light to make out the bed.

  His leg hit the mattress and he let himself fall, still cradling her, toppling together but twisting so she didn’t take his full weight. Even so, the sensation of her half beneath him sent fire scudding through his body.

  ‘You don’t need to do this.’ Her voice was half shock and half bravado. Even in the gloom he made out the tight line of her jaw.

  Something, a sensation he wasn’t familiar with and couldn’t identify, curled in on itself, burrowing through his chest. More than approval, more than pride or even protectiveness.

  ‘You’re wrong. I need to do exactly this. I tried not to take advantage, I really did. But I’m not cut out for self-denial.’ Not surprising when he’d never tried denying himself anything he wanted, not since he’d worked and finagled his way out of poverty, setting his sights on a better life.

  ‘But—’

  Raffa stopped her words with his mouth, damming her protest. An instant later she was returning his kiss with a fervour that shattered his last attempt to hold back. The blaze of wanting consumed them, making her writhe beneath him. His thoughts sped to stripping her out of her swimsuit and impaling himself in her welcoming body as soon as possible.

  She’s a virgin.

  Doesn’t that mean anything to you?

  The thought diverted his thoughts even as he dragged her shoulder strap down one arm, past the elbow she accommodatingly lifted, and off.

  A second later her breast was in his hand, perfect, delectable. He lowered his head, licked a peaked nipple and felt her jerk high off the bed. Raffa stretched out his leg to capture both of hers before he lowered his head again to that stiff peak. He’d thought her taste addictive when he’d kissed her mouth, but this...this made him desperate.

  ‘Please.’ Her voice was a moan, her hands clutching him as he drew on her nipple, feeling her shift and buck beneath him.

  His erection throbbed against her hip. Much more of this and he’d come before he even got naked.

  Lily might be a virgin but she was all passionate woman, and a woman already on the brink.

  Pride whispered that it was his seductive skills making her so desperate for release. Logic decreed long-term celibacy played its part.

  Twenty-eight and virginal. The thought slowed his urgent touch. For him this surge of desire was remarkable, unique, after years of no interest in sex. But for Lily tonight had to be more. He had to make it perfect.

  A man as tainted as he shouldn’t be the one to introduce her to sex. But he’d do his damnedest to make it special for her.

  Which meant tonight would be all about her.

  He looped his fingers under her other shoulder strap and again she helped, eager to peel away the clingy fabric so both breasts were bare.

  Her sigh of delight spurred him on as he held her in both hands, weighing those delectable breasts, sucking first one then the other, drawing pleasure from her till he thought he’d go mad from the effort of restraint.

  The enticing scent of feminine arousal fogged his brain as he peeled her swimsuit down, over her arching ribs and soft belly, past the jut of her hip bones. His hand brushed the silk between her legs and she shuddered. So ready.

  Yet Raffa took his time, rolling the fabric down her legs and away before acquainting himself with the arch of her instep, the slim circle of her ankle, the lush smoothness of her calf. When he kissed her knee and moved higher she sighed.

  He followed the sound higher to the smooth flesh of her inner thigh, first one leg, then the other. They were trembling around him as he pushed them wider, jamming his shoulders against her as he opened her to him.

  ‘Please,’ she whispered in a purr of sound he knew would haunt his dreams from now on. ‘I need you.’

  His erection throbbed against the constriction of his clothes. He wanted to rip his trousers away and thrust his way to release.

  Which was why he made no move to undress. He didn’t trust himself.

  Inching higher, he felt her tension rise. There was something he wanted almost as much as to lose himself in her beautiful body. That was to taste the first orgasm she’d ever accepted from a man.

  Lily whimpered as he kissed her there, her fingers tunnelling through his hair, her body restless. He’d barely settled at her centre, had merely taken one slow lick when he felt the fine tremor in her body turn to a judder of building ecstasy.

  She cried his name in a hoarse gasp as she accepted the pleasure he gave her, returning it tenfold. Her deep quivers of delight, the tang of her in his mouth and the feel of her flexing, strong yet helpless, beneath him were gifts more precious than he expected. And the way she tugged him close, hands and legs pulling him in, enfolding him as if she couldn’t bear to let go...

  Had he felt this way before?

  The answer was a resounding no.

  With Lily he wasn’t the cynical man of thirty-three who’d long ago lost interest in women, with their avarice and selfishness. Nor the kid who’d had his first taste of sex as a boy toy of a much older woman seeking diversion. He was someone new.

  For years Raffa had used and been used. A commodity craved by women and advertisers who weren’t interested in him. Never once had he felt as real, as honest, as with Lily.

  He lay, centred on her, surrounded by her broken gasps, her trembling limbs and clutching hands, and discovered, to his amazement, it really did feel better to give than to receive. He wanted to please her.

  Of course he wanted her for himself, but equally he wanted to bask in her rapture as she learned delight in its many forms.

  He lifted his hand, gently caressing her damp curls, and felt her jerk beneath his touch, still so sensitive.

  How could he resist an invitation like that?

  His expertise with women, his intimate, encyclopaedic knowledge of their bodies, wasn’t something to be proud of. He’d acquired it as a necessary skill then later used it to get his own sexual satisfaction quickly. But tonight, as he turned that knowledge to seducing Lily, he was grateful for it. Every touch, every kiss, each slide of his body against hers, each murmure
d encouragement, had the sole purpose of making her first foray into sex memorable.

  Gratification filled him with every sigh she uttered, every sob of delight, every climax. Till finally she lay, utterly spent.

  His groin was on fire, his erection impossibly swollen, yet he pulled back.

  Tonight was for her.

  He couldn’t quite believe it, but found himself moving to the side of the bed. Time to let her sleep.

  ‘Don’t go.’

  ‘You’re awake?’ She lay so lax he’d assumed she was out for the count.

  ‘How could I sleep?’

  ‘Close your eyes. You’ll sleep soon.’ Raffa brushed her hair from her hot brow, feeling an unfamiliar wave of tenderness.

  Surprisingly strong fingers caught his wrist. In the darkness he caught the glitter of her stare.

  ‘We’re not finished. I want you, Raffaele. I don’t want to be a virgin anymore.’

  Raffa couldn’t remember denying himself anything he wanted and he wanted Lily with every fibre. But a decent man would leave her for the lover who, some day, would give her not just sex, but the relationship she deserved. A man nothing like himself.

  Fingers shackled his other wrist as he made to move. He could break her hold, but her next words stopped him.

  ‘I’m not a charity case, Raffaele. Don’t make me feel like one.’ There was just enough light for him to make out the movement of her throat as she swallowed. ‘I thought you...wanted me too.’

  Did she have any idea how close to the edge her words dragged him? Clearly not.

  ‘Or was all this some elaborate attempt not to hurt my feelings?’ Pride was in her stretched-thin voice, but pain too, and defiance.

  ‘You’ve got a lot to learn about men, tesoro, if you think I don’t want you.’ He yanked her hand from his wrist and jammed it against his chest, where his heart galloped.

  He caught the way her eyes widened, then she smiled, slow and wide, with the age-old power of a born seductress.

  ‘Then show me.’

  Her hands slipped to his trousers, one fumbling at the button and the other tugging the zip, till he had to rear back lest he lose himself there and then.

  A moment later he stood beside the bed, drinking in the sight of her spreadeagled there, her hair a fathomless pool spilling out from her shoulders, her limbs pearly.

  A man could only resist so much. He wrenched open the drawer of the bedside table, finding the packet of condoms thoughtfully provided for guests. After that everything blurred till he was naked and rolling on protection.

  Then he was on her, flesh to flesh, bone and muscle against sweet femininity, and he was shaking as if he’d never done this before. As if it was his first time, not hers, and he was terrified of getting it wrong.

  ‘This could be a little uncomfortable.’ His guttural whisper was unrecognisable as he propped himself above her, taking his weight, holding steady at her entrance.

  ‘You mean it could hurt.’ Yet she laughed, as if she felt none of the strain weighing his every movement. ‘It’s okay. I won’t break.’

  Her hand slipped down, reaching for him, and instinctively he moved, knowing he couldn’t last if she touched him now. The glide became a thrust which turned into a surge of power, taking him deep into close, slick space that opened around him, welcoming him.

  There was no gasp of pain, no horror, just a moment of resistance then heaven.

  Raffa’s breath stalled. He tried to breathe, to calm the pulse storming in his blood, the sharp, rising pull of pleasure. Except Lily confounded him. She wrapped her arms about him, lifted her legs and clung on.

  ‘Yes.’ The hot sibilant branded his ear as she rubbed her cheek against his. ‘Like that. Please.’

  That was all it took for Raffaele Petri, renowned for his sexual expertise and stamina, versed in every carnal art and long past the age of impulsiveness, to buck hard against her, shattering with a roar of anguished delight till the world disappeared in a dizzying swirl.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  HE WASN’T SURE what woke him but for once in his life Raffa wasn’t eager to get up. He lay, eyes closed, content to enjoy the comfort of lying here, replete.

  Usually he was up straight away, diving into each day with a determination to meet every challenge and win. Today felt different. He felt different.

  He stretched and immediately stilled, registering warm flesh beneath his arm, against his body. Feminine curves, fragrant and enticing.

  Lily.

  His eyes snapped open and he found himself staring into a serious, questioning gaze of glowing amber, flecked with brown.

  Shock buffeted him.

  He’d spent the night in Lily Nolan’s bed.

  He never spent the night with any woman. They got ideas about permanency and relationships, as if they’d shared more than sex.

  Memories bombarded, vivid, intoxicating memories of Lily falling apart again and again. And of him, utterly out of control. Him expecting familiar sexual satisfaction and finding something beyond his wildest imaginings.

  Raffa sucked in a breath and slid his hand back from the indent of her waist. It was only then he realised he’d clamped one thigh over hers in his sleep, caging her to him.

  As if even in sleep he couldn’t let her go.

  The mighty erection prodding her belly reinforced that.

  ‘You weren’t expecting to see me, then.’ Her voice was curiously flat, as if she’d ironed out all emotion. But he felt the sudden rigidity in her, saw the brightness dim in her eyes and the hint of a smile die on her lips.

  So it started. The games women played. The emotional blackmail they employed.

  Deliberately Raffa stilled in the act of drawing his leg away.

  ‘I didn’t expect to see anyone. I sleep alone.’ There was a hard edge to his words. He resented explaining himself.

  ‘Then you should have left last night. This is my bed. I didn’t invite you here, if you remember.’

  ‘I remember.’ She’d infuriated him, worried him, turned what should have been simple sex into something complicated. He’d felt like some dastardly villain when he’d sent her away and she’d fled, drawing the scraps of her dignity behind her. Later, when she’d talked of being ugly and not desirable—he’d been torn between hunger and the fear he’d hurt her even more by taking what they both wanted.

  She’d made him confront the dark truth at the core of himself, the sense of being tainted, too soiled to touch an innocent.

  Yet he had. He’d given her a night of unabated delight. In the process he’d crossed so many boundaries he’d ventured into unfamiliar territory. A difficult, unpleasant place where feelings burgeoned in the pit of his belly. He felt edgy, like the first time he’d left the warren of familiar childhood streets, not knowing what threatened around the next corner.

  Now she looked at him like something she’d tracked in on the bottom of her shoe.

  ‘It’s time you left. It’s getting late.’

  Raffa didn’t like the memories her words evoked. It had been years, a lifetime ago, since a woman had shown him the door when his services were no longer required.

  He felt a burst of that ancient resentment, as if he were a youth again, frustrated anger at himself for letting himself be used, even if it was his only way out of the hole he’d grown up in. Shame that he managed to find physical pleasure when honour dictated he should take none when money changed hands.

  Raffa shoved the memories away. It was a place he didn’t visit.

  ‘Why?’ he drawled, his voice harsh. ‘You’re ashamed to be seen letting me out of your villa so early in the morning?’

  Her eyes widened. ‘More like saving your reputation. I’m sure you’d rather not let it be known where you’d spent the night.’

  On the words she lifted her hand and pushed her hair off her face, turning her head a fraction so the sunlight spilling across the bed slanted over her scarred cheek.

  Instantly, as if a giant fist sm
ashed into his solar plexus, Raffa’s indignation disintegrated.

  Even after last night, after he showed her again and again how beautiful she was, how much he craved her, Lily didn’t believe it.

  * * *

  ‘You think your face will repel me?’ His voice was a low growl. As if she’d let a tiger into her bedroom. His eyes glittered so fiercely Lily felt almost anxious.

  There was nothing to be anxious about. She’d had the sort of night she’d never believed she’d experience, discovering intimacy with the only man who could tempt her to let down her guard. She’d loved every minute and would carry the memories for the rest of her days.

  Now it was over. Last night’s kindness was over. That was obvious the moment he opened his eyes and reeled back.

  It was time to move on.

  It wasn’t as if she’d expected he’d want a relationship with her.

  ‘I think it’s a new day and it’s time we ended this...’ Lily didn’t have a word to describe last night. Especially as they still lay naked together, his thigh imprisoning her hip and his shaft pressed against her stomach. She kept her hands tucked together in front of her, knuckles touching his chest when he breathed deep, locked together so she couldn’t be tempted to reach out.

  Yet inside her muscles clenched and released and clenched again, feeling the empty ache she’d never experienced before Raffaele had taught her to want him. She wanted him to fill that void, hold her close and take her to heaven. Being with him, sharing that ultimate intimacy had been mind-blowing.

  ‘You say that because you’re scared.’

  ‘Scared?’ She looked into narrowed eyes and felt herself fall into those blue depths. ‘Of what?’

  ‘That last night was real.’

  He stopped the protest rising in her mouth when he lifted one palm to her face, flattening it over the taut, uneven flesh of her scar. Slowly he dragged his hand down, investigating from temple to chin in excruciating detail.

  Lily’s pulse jittered and danced within a body frozen in shock.

  ‘Don’t. There’s no need.’