by Lynne Graham
‘Stop it!’ Ellie hissed, struggling against the great wave of quivering weakness that assailed her as the heat of his lips and the teasing nip of his teeth grazed her sensitised flesh. ‘You’re not allowed to do this when we’re fighting!’
In answer, Rio crushed her angrily parted lips beneath his own, his tongue flicking the roof of her mouth and tangling with her own. The forbidden pulse at the heart of her pounded faster and hotter while honeyed liquidity pooled in her pelvis. His hands firm on her thighs, she squirmed on the table.
‘Rio!’ she cried in frustration.
He ripped the delicate panties out of his path and traced the damp wet folds between her parted thighs, and so much excitement surged up inside Ellie that she feared she might go up in flames. He had distracted her, she knew he had distracted her with sex and she knew she had to defend herself but in that instant nothing was more important to Ellie than the fierce, urgent demands of her own body.
‘We can’t…’ she moaned for her own benefit as much as his.
Rio sank his hands below her hips and lifted her to him as though she were a doll. He sank into her hard and fast and the sudden fullness of him boldly stretching her made her shudder and gasp. And then he moved with brutal efficiency, hitting some magical spot inside her that knew no shame and the treacherous excitement came in a drowning, remorseless flood that overwhelmed her. Her teeth dug into the shoulder of his jacket, her hands clawed any part of him she could reach. The pleasure was unbearable, pushing her relentlessly to the edge. Her body careened into a teeth-clenching climax that left her bereft of breath and he freed her as the final convulsions trammelled through her weakened body.
He disappeared off to the bathroom leaving her sagging on the table. He had taken precautions this time around, she registered in surprise. So, he was no longer willing to take that risk of conception with her, even though they were now married. Did Rio still want an escape route? Was he hoping she wasn’t pregnant? That he could still walk away?
And why wouldn’t he when he was convinced that she was a shameless gold-digger? Anger sizzled through Ellie. She had lost another battle with Rio. She slid, almost limp with satiation, off the table and retrieved one of her shoes, which had fallen off. Her torn underwear was nowhere to be seen and she had no spare clothing in the room since her suitcase had already been removed. With a grimace she smoothed down her dress and staggered slightly on cotton-wool legs in front of a mirror to check her hair.
‘You look fantastic, principessa,’ Rio said huskily, lazily, catching her hand in his. ‘And you’re my wife now—’
‘Not sure I want reminding of that right now—’
‘I like reminding you,’ Rio murmured, studying her with hungry dark golden eyes. ‘Smile, Ellie—’
‘No, Rio—’
‘Smile,’ Rio insisted. ‘It’s our wedding day and we should be making the most of it—’
‘Oh, I think you’ve already done that,’ Ellie told him before she could think better of that comment.
And Rio laughed with unholy amusement. ‘You’re mine. I needed the proof of it.’
All shaken up and fizzing with conflicting feelings and emotions, Ellie returned to the wedding festivities. Rio kept a hold of her, not letting her stray far from his side. Her body still felt hot and alien, the aftershock of forbidden pleasure and excitement still trapped inside her like a shameful secret. There was wanting and then there was wanting Rio, and he had just taught her that she was the one without the off switch when she needed it. That knowledge made her feel achingly vulnerable.
CHAPTER EIGHT
RIO SCOOPED HER out of the helicopter with precision. The flight had taken less than an hour.
‘Why won’t you tell me where we’re going?’ Ellie demanded.
‘In a few minutes you’ll know exactly where we are—’
‘I wouldn’t bet on that. I haven’t travelled much,’ Ellie admitted as he walked her a few steps down a quay and assisted her into a motorboat.
But as he had forecast, Ellie recognised where she was even though it was a place she had only previously seen in pictures. The view of Venice as the boat sped across the lagoon was breathtakingly beautiful. ‘It’s just like the paintings Beppe showed me,’ she whispered, entranced.
On the Grand Canal, the boat slowed amidst the busy water traffic and nosed in at a smartly decorated landing stage. Climbing out, she accompanied Rio into a magnificent foyer ornamented with huge Venetian glass chandeliers. ‘Welcome to the Hotel Palazzo Sorrentino,’ Rio murmured. ‘The jewel in the crown of my hotel chain.’
‘Sorrentino?’ she queried in surprise.
‘Yes, it once belonged to your family but it was last used as a home by your great-grandfather and even he only lived in a tiny corner of it. Beppe was quoted millions for the repairs that were needed and he sold it to me,’ Rio explained. ‘It was being used as a warehouse by then because it wasn’t fit for habitation. Converting it into an exclusive hotel took years but it was a worthwhile investment. Now it’s fully booked years in advance.’
Recognising that almost every eye in the reception area was on them, Ellie went pink, suddenly conscious of her wedding finery. A little man in a smart suit approached to welcome them and handed her a beautiful bouquet with the compliments of the staff. Rio accepted a key from him and guided her across the foyer and down a corridor.
‘We’re staying here?’ she asked.
‘Not in the hotel. The palazzo came with a couple of attached buildings and I retained one of them for personal use. Beppe uses it regularly. He loves Venice, particularly in the winter when it’s quiet,’ Rio told her, leading her outside and along a wisteria-clad walled alley to a narrow door flanked by Venetian gothic windows. ‘It’s very private here and the staff service it so we don’t have to worry about housekeeping or cooking.’
Ellie walked into a charming wood-panelled reception room that overlooked a tiny lush green garden at the rear. Beyond the garden, a gondola sailed past on a narrow waterway. It was a magical scene.
Rio removed the bouquet from her hold. ‘I’ll stick the flowers in the sink.’
Ellie knew she should go with him and deal with the flowers but the diverse traffic flowing past on the canal commanded her attention and she stayed where she was.
‘I’ll show you round now,’ Rio said lightly, and in a great gilded antique mirror she caught a glimpse of her answering smile that softened her face, and looked away again, dismayed that she could look happy in the company of a man who had implied that she could be a gold-digger.
‘I need to tell you about Violet… The lady in the hospice, who changed her will in my favour,’ she said tightly.
‘Not now, we’ve had enough stress. Leave it until later,’ Rio urged as he opened the door on a dining room where food already awaited them on the table, fearful that any sudden revelations from Ellie would set them at odds again on a night that he very much wanted to be special and all about ‘them.’ ‘We should eat first. You didn’t have much earlier.’
‘I wasn’t hungry,’ she admitted as he pulled out a chair for her. ‘I didn’t think you’d notice—’
‘I notice everything about you,’ Rio incised drily.
‘If that was true, you’d know I’d never have sought out Beppe simply because he was well off,’ Ellie contended uncomfortably. ‘It didn’t matter who or what he was. I just wanted to fill in the blank I’ve lived with all my life and know what happened between my parents. You couldn’t possibly understand how much it means to me to know who my father is and to actually feel a sense of connection with him. It’s so much more than I ever hoped to have.’
‘I understand a lot more than you appreciate,’ Rio countered, his lean dark face setting into grim lines. ‘I will never know who my father is and, frankly, I don’t want to know. I met my mother as an adult and that killed off any sentimental delusions I might have had. My mother and I didn’t have a single thought or feeling in common.’
Ellie studied h
im in shock at that revelation.
‘You were very lucky to find a man like Beppe waiting at the end of your identity trail,’ Rio remarked wryly.
He had met his mother and it hadn’t worked out? But he had grown up in an orphanage. Where had his mother been when he was a child? And why didn’t he know who had fathered him? Consternation gripped Ellie and she veiled her eyes. Rio managed to be incredibly sanguine about realities that would have seriously disturbed her and it made her all the more aware of how very little she knew about him and how unwittingly tactless she must have been while she was happily rambling on about what finding Beppe had meant to her. Of course, what had she ever personally shared with Rio? Discomfiture filled her. As a rule, Ellie was reserved and she kept her secrets close. She didn’t share personal stuff except with Polly but that had to change now that she was married. Didn’t it? It wouldn’t be fair to expect more from Rio than she was prepared to give herself.
‘Yes, I was incredibly fortunate,’ Ellie agreed ruefully as she took another appreciative bite of her delicious pasta salad. ‘Can I ask you about something?’
‘Anything…’
‘Earlier when we were together, you…you used a condom,’ Ellie reminded him.
‘Isn’t that what you wanted?’ Rio responded, his ebony brows drawing together in a frown. ‘If you are pregnant, we’ll make the best of it but if you’re not, well…it gives us more options.’
‘You mean, we wouldn’t have to stay together,’ Ellie framed, her heart suddenly beating with a dulled thunderous thud against her breastbone.
Rio lounged back in his chair with his wine glass and settled frowning dark golden eyes on her. ‘Don’t put words in my mouth. I said options and I meant options. I believe that babies should be planned and greeted with joy on their arrival.’
Ellie nodded woodenly, thinking about the pregnancy test waiting in her case. ‘I agree. The circumstances weren’t ideal.’
‘Ideal isn’t everything, principessa.’ A slow-burning, wicked smile slanted Rio’s beautiful mouth. ‘But I did notice that day at my house that the idea of getting pregnant turned you as white as a sheet. It’s not a risk I’ll run with you unless you ask me to…’
And how likely was that? Yet that unexpected offer soothed her in some strange way. He wasn’t slamming the door in her face. He had not said that if she wasn’t pregnant they would eventually separate and divorce. His outlook wasn’t that simple or that final. So why was she relieved? What had she feared? She searched his lean, darkly handsome features, her mouth running dry as she struggled to look beyond the sleek dark beauty of him into her appalled reaction to the threat of being parted from him. Polly had seen what she had hidden even from herself: she had got attached, dangerously attached to Rio Benedetti. Recognising that reality hollowed her out with fear. She was afraid of getting hurt and very reluctant to want more from Rio than he was likely to give.
She went upstairs to explore and discovered a dreamy spacious bedroom swathed in opulent fabrics and a divine four-poster bed. Their luggage had arrived in advance and had been unpacked for them. Off the bedroom there was a splendid marble bathroom with sumptuous heated towels and very fancy fittings. Champagne and flowers awaited them. She filched a chocolate off the silver dish beside the champagne flutes and bit into it with so much pleasure that she closed her eyes.
‘You like chocolate,’ Rio said huskily from the doorway.
‘Correction—I would kill for chocolate,’ Ellie admitted with a sudden laugh.
His amusement ebbed as he looked at her, the sheer stunning elegance of her in her gown, stray copper curls showing round her hairline now, the heavier make-up she had worn for the wedding faded, a faint streak of eyeliner at the side of one eye where she had rubbed. And yet she was still so beautiful with her clear green eyes and lush pink mouth. ‘I think I would kill for you,’ he breathed, stunned and unsettled both by the thought and the feeling.
Unfortunately Rio was being forced to work without a script. He was out of his comfort zone. Hit it and quit it was no blueprint for a marriage or a woman like Ellie. If she was pregnant, she would be with him for a long time, he reminded himself darkly. She would make demands, the sort of demands he had never had to deal with before. She would restrict him. She would also probably and regularly drive him nuts. But on the other hand, every pleasure came with a price tag and she was clever, amusing, passionate and ridiculously sexy.
Ellie plucked the pins from hair and let the thick mass fall to her shoulders. Then she spun round. ‘I need your help to get out of this,’ she admitted, turning and indicating the lace ties. ‘It’s beginning to feel very tight.’
Rio removed his jacket and cravat and unbuttoned his shirt. He was thinking about the curves inside that corset, the wondrous curves that bad timing had forced him to neglect that afternoon. Raw hunger roared through him afresh. ‘I love corsets,’ he confided.
‘Thought you would,’ Ellie murmured a tad smugly.
He released the ties and the hooks and let the garment drop to the floor while she exhaled in relief that the constriction had gone. He kept his arms round her, dipped his mouth to the smooth slope between her neck and shoulder and dallied there, lifting his head to nip teasingly at her earlobe at the same time as he raised his hands to cup her full breasts.
Ellie rested her head back against him, tiny flames of arousal dancing over her skin as long fingers tugged and teased at her swollen nipples. She was so sensitive there that she pressed her thighs together as if she could contain the rush of damp heat at her core. He backed her down on the bed but she demurred, pausing to unzip her skirt and let it fall, momentarily forgetting that she was bare beneath.
‘Memories,’ Rio teased with a wicked grin, disposing of his shirt to reveal a corrugated abdomen, hard with lean muscle.
‘You work out,’ Ellie guessed, studying him closely, faint colour feathering into her cheeks.
‘Every day. I’m at a desk too much. Ah…is that a look of approval from Dr Ellie?’
Ellie scrambled onto the bed and beneath the smooth white linen sheet and immediately felt better about hiding her overlarge behind and sturdy thighs. She didn’t think there was anything wrong with her body, she simply wished that when she had been blessed with curves she had also been blessed with more height to carry them. Rio undressed, dropping everything in a heap while Ellie watched him like a hawk, thinking that it had never occurred to her to wonder what it would be like to have her own male stripper. He had a really great body. Broad shoulders, lean hips, the inverted V of muscle running down to…that! Ellie stared, reddened, no longer marvelling that she had been sore in the aftermath of her introduction to sex. He wasn’t small anywhere and, being Rio, he was already primed for action.
‘We can do without this,’ he told her, yanking the sheet back. ‘I plan to make you very hot, principessa.’
Ellie rested back on the pillows. ‘And I plan to make you equally hot,’ she warned him.
Grinning, Rio came down on the bed beside her. ‘You’ve already achieved that…or didn’t you notice?’
Ellie stroked the velvet-smooth thrust of him with wondering fingers. ‘I noticed—’
‘A little less of that,’ he censured as she explored him.
‘No, you don’t get to hand out orders in bed,’ Ellie told him.
And Rio laughed with startled appreciation and looked at her, the humour slowly draining from his lean dark face to accentuate the black diamond glitter of his slumberous eyes and the feverish colour lacing his exotic cheekbones. ‘Am I being treated to bossy Ellie now?’
‘I have more than one setting. I can’t have you getting bored,’ Ellie murmured intently as her hand spread over his chest. ‘My goodness, I’m so pale I must look like a milk bottle beside you—’
Rio rolled over and pinned her half beneath him. ‘A very, very sexy, curvy milk bottle—’
‘In the mood you’re in you’d find anything female sexy,’ Ellie protested.
‘I hate the hair. I went through school being called “ginger,”’ Ellie muttered. ‘And “clever clogs.”’
‘But you still triumphed, bella mia. Passed all your exams, married me—’
‘Marrying you counts as a triumph?’ Ellie gasped.
‘See how you feel about me in the morning,’ Rio murmured with lashings of sexual assurance.
‘That you’re tiring me out?’ Ellie teased, her fingers dancing over a smooth bronzed shoulder, enjoyment lighting her eyes for such intimacy was very new to her and unexpectedly wonderful to find.
And then he leant down and he kissed her and it was exactly what he had promised, hot and hungry and wildly intoxicating. The heat of his long, lean, powerful frame against hers sent a current of prickling awareness flying across her entire skin surface. The plunge of his tongue electrified her, sending tiny shivers darting through every pleasure receptor. Her breasts tingled and swelled, the tips straining.
His mouth roamed over her, tugging at the sensitive buds, seeking out delicate spots and lingering. He worked his way down her body to explore the most responsive place of all and her hips writhed and her lips parted on tiny cries. She had never felt so much pleasure or such a relentless drive for release. It was as if something deep within her were screaming impatiently for satisfaction. She twisted and turned, drowning in sensation, her body programmed to leap and rise to fever point at his every caress. Slowly she could feel her control being torn away from her but this time it didn’t frighten her. She didn’t fight, she let go, rejoicing in the strong waves of pleasure convulsing her and thrumming like a euphoric song through every skin cell.
‘You’re really, really good at that,’ Ellie whispered, limp and breathless in the aftermath.