by Miranda Lee
But there wasn’t any.
Besides being unmarked, his hands were also empty.
‘Jed wasn’t in?’ she asked, perplexed over what could have taken him so long if he hadn’t been fighting or gathering up her clothes.
Antonio’s smile was wry. ‘He was in all right.’
‘Oh? He wouldn’t give you my clothes, then?’
‘He couldn’t give me your clothes.’
‘Oh, my God, what did you do to him?’ Paige burst out, frantic that Antonio might have done something really stupid. There was a wild glitter in his eyes which worried the life out of her.
‘Nothing,’ he denied, and, taking her arm, steered her back into the living room. ‘Nothing much, anyway,’ he muttered darkly.
‘I think I need a drink,’ he announced, and, leaving her in the middle of the room, he stalked over to the black-lacquered bar in the corner and poured himself a large whisky. ‘You want something?’
‘No, thanks. And what do you mean by nothing much?’
She watched agitatedly while Antonio took a deep swallow of whisky, then smiled a very rueful little smile. ‘Let’s say he’ll be sporting a bruise bigger than yours tomorrow. And he won’t be in a hurry to service the dolly-bird he had stashed in his bedroom. Other than that, he’s fine.’
Paige didn’t know whether to shout hooray or to cry. In the end, her dismay overrode her satisfaction that Antonio had indeed pulverised the man. ‘Jed had a…a woman with him?’ she choked out.
‘Why do you think I hit him?’
Paige did not know what to say. Or think. She just stood there, her head and shoulders sagging. What a fool she’d been to have felt guilty over Jed even for a moment. His anger last night had not been the result of a broken heart, but a bruised ego.
‘He couldn’t give me your clothes,’ Antonio added. ‘Because he’d burnt them.’
‘Burnt them!’ she exclaimed, both startled and shocked. ‘Why would he do such a terrible thing?’
‘Men like him don’t take rejection well,’ Antonio stated drily. ‘Not many men do, actually. I would say, when he woke and found out you were gone, he had to have something to destroy. Since you were no longer there in person, your clothes were his only option. After that, he went out and found another woman to bolster up his poor, pathetic male ego. He didn’t love you, Paige. He never loved you.’
Paige could see that now. But it was still an upsetting situation. ‘God, I’m an idiot,’ she cried, and buried her face in her hands. Tears welled up in her eyes, tears of despair and self-pity. Her father was right about her. She had no idea about men. Jed had fooled her far too easily. Some smooth flattery. Some clever lies. And she’d simply believed him.
She shuddered at her gullibility.
Antonio’s taking her gently into his arms seemed so natural, yet it brought a fresh well of emotion flooding her heart, and her eyes. With a strangled sob, she laid her head against his chest, tears spilling down her face.
‘Poor Paige,’ he crooned as he held her to him, one hand firmly around her waist, the other stroking her hair down her back.
Poor Paige indeed, she had to concede as she wept. Poor, silly, stupid Paige!
She’d actually thought she’d taken her life in hand this year. She’d done that course, got herself a new job, a new wardrobe and, she’d mistakenly thought, a new man, to banish Antonio from her mind and heart for ever.
Well, her new job was gone. So was her new man. Even her nice new clothes!
And now she was back, living at her despised home, and loving Antonio more than ever!
Her thoughts gradually brought her back to the reality of that very moment, which was that she was actually in Antonio’s arms, and he was holding her to him very, very closely. So closely that she could feel his heartbeat under the palms of her hands, and a telling hardness pressing against her stomach.
This was what she’d been waiting for all her life, wasn’t it? Wasn’t it?
Her tears dried as the heat in her body rose, her own heart quickening. Her weeping stopped, and a tense silence gradually filled the air. Antonio’s hand stilled on her back. She felt his pulse-rate pick up speed.
‘I think, perhaps,’ he said thickly, ‘that I should take you home.’ And he pushed her away to arm’s length.
Paige’s head lifted, her eyes wide upon his.
‘You’re upset,’ he ground out, his own eyes like black coals upon hers.
If he’d looked at her with pity, she might have fled. But he didn’t. His eyes reflected a passion which was intoxicating in its intensity.
‘But I don’t want to go home,’ she told him huskily, and a storm of indecision filled his face.
‘I doubt you have any idea what you want, Paige. You never have.’
‘There’s one thing I’ve always wanted, Antonio,’ she insisted on a raw whisper. ‘And that’s you…’
‘Like you thought you wanted Waltham?’
‘I never wanted Jed the way I’ve always wanted you.’
His hands lifted from her shoulders to take her face and tip it upwards. ‘Don’t expect me to tell you I love you,’ he said darkly, his impassioned gaze lancing hers.
‘I don’t,’ she managed to say quite coolly, even though she was trembling inside.
‘You told Waltham you only slept with men who loved you. Which was why he said he did.’
Paige was taken aback that Jed would admit such a thing, till she accepted that Antonio might have coerced the information out of him. ‘What else did he tell you?’
‘That last night was the first time you’d had sex together. Was that true?’
‘Yes.’
‘Did he use protection?’
‘Yes.’
‘Have all your other lovers always used protection?’
‘What? Oh…oh, yes. Always.’ Brad had been very careful about that.
‘Good.’
His mouth began to descend, stopping only millimetres from hers. ‘Once I kiss you,’ he warned, ‘there’ll be no going back.’
‘I won’t want to go back.’
‘I was talking to myself, Paige,’ he muttered. ‘Not you.’ And his mouth closed the gap.
Antonio fought a deep self-disgust as he started to kiss her. He knew what he was doing was wrong. On all counts. Paige might sound sure about this, but she had to be especially vulnerable at this moment, distressed over what had happened the night before, and now tonight. Her confidence as a woman would be down, her self-esteem shaky. The classic scenario for a rebound affair. The perfect set-up for him to sweep her off her feet before she had time to think too clearly.
Her declaration that she’d always wanted him didn’t mitigate Antonio’s guilt. If anything, it made it worse, knowing he was taking advantage of that old teenage crush of hers even more cruelly than if he’d done so when she’d been seventeen.
His conscience demanded he not do this. His own self-respect demanded he tell Conrad to shove his blackmailing bargain and stick his job. He’d survive without Fortune Productions!
But would he survive without making love to Paige?
The chemistry which had always sparked between them was much stronger tonight, and dangerously out of hand. With her lips already softened and parting under his, Antonio’s conscience was easily ignored, his earlier anger at being manipulated by Conrad totally abandoned. He no longer cared about anything but kissing the beautiful girl in his arms.
As his tongue dipped deep into her mouth, and she moaned softly, his last rational thought was to wonder if he had any condoms anywhere in the place. But then she moaned a second time, and that thought too was consigned to the same place as his conscience.
Paige’s hands slid up his chest and around his neck, clasping her to him lest he somehow dematerialise.
‘Antonio,’ she whispered once, when his mouth lifted briefly. But then he was back, kissing her again, taking her breath away, making her see just why she’d waited so long, and why she hadn’t been
able to love any other man. She’d thought Jed would be an experienced and ardent lover, able to push Antonio out of her mind. Instead, he’d been quick, and crude. She’d hated every second of their brief coupling, then shuddered with revulsion when he’d tried more intimate things with her afterwards.
But when Antonio’s mouth moved hotly and hungrily over hers a wildly uninhibited passion began to burn through her body, a passion which demanded intimacies. She could not wait to touch him all over, to stroke his skin and kiss his most private places. In turn, she wanted his hands on her, stripping away all her clothes, exploring every inch of her naked flesh, searching out every forbidden erotic zone. Her body was his to enjoy and to use. She would give it to him.
Willingly.
Wantonly.
Lovingly.
They were both breathless by the time his hands fell to her clothes. Paige helped him, undoing the small pearly buttons between her breasts when he had trouble, tugging the silky garment back off her shoulders and letting it flutter to the floor, leaving her naked to the waist.
Touch me, she begged him silently. Touch them. Oh, please, Antonio. Please.
Antonio’s breath sucked in sharply at the sight of Paige’s magnificent breasts, with their lush fullness and rose-tipped peaks. They stood out in their arousal, taut and tempting. But he didn’t touch them, forcing himself to wait till she was totally naked before him.
‘Take off the rest,’ he ordered thickly, and after the briefest hesitation she obeyed him, swiftly, completely. Dear God, what that did to him, seeing her eager compliance to his wishes, watching her quite stunning beauty unfold before his eyes.
She was even more lovely than he’d imagined. A golden goddess. A temptress beyond description.
Paige’s head swam as she stood there before him, watching his smouldering gaze move slowly over her totally nude body. She could not have been more turned on if he was actually touching her. Her stomach tightened. Her breasts swelled. Her thighs quivered.
‘Don’t move,’ he ordered, and set to slowly undressing himself in front of her.
First his jacket. Then his top. Both discarded without a care. His eyes were solely on her, eating her up, telling her with every searing glance that he wanted her more than any man had ever wanted her.
His shoes were kicked off, his socks soon after. And then it was down to the nitty-gritty. His trousers and his underpants. Her mouth dried as he dropped the first, then stepped out of the second.
Her breath caught in her throat. Oh, yes…he wanted her more than any man had ever wanted her!
Paige stared down at him, then up into his face, and knew she was about to experience something very different from anything she’d ever experienced before. This would be nothing like Brad’s gentle, easy-going style of lovemaking, or Jed’s ghastly wham-bam-thank-youma’am brand of sex.
‘Come here,’ he commanded.
She felt as if she was in slow motion as she moved back into his arms, her lips gasping open at the feel of their naked bodies meeting, then melting together. She lifted her face to be kissed, but he didn’t kiss her, just stared deep into her wide, dilated eyes.
‘You do realise,’ he warned in a strangled voice, ‘that I can’t wait a moment longer.’
‘Neither can I,’ she heard herself say, and he made a sound she would always remember. A raw, guttural groan which encapsulated everything and nothing of what she’d hoped he’d one day feel for her. Her own feelings were indescribable, her love for him momentarily abandoned in favour of sheer lust. She could never have dreamt of such urgency, or such a need. She simply had to have Antonio inside her, had to feel his flesh filling hers, stamping her body with his unique brand of sexuality.
‘Just do it, Antonio,’ she urged wildly. ‘Do it!’
With another of those tortured groans, he pushed her legs apart and penetrated her then and there, filling her with a savage upward thrust which brought a stunned cry to her lips. She’d known he would be a passionate and primitive lover, known he would take her breath away. What she hadn’t known was that she would thrill to such caveman treatment. When his large hands cupped her buttocks and hoisted her up off the floor she buried her face into his neck lest he see what was in her eyes.
But hiding her face from him was impossible when he carried her over and tipped her back across the high, wide leather arm of the sofa in the centre of the room. Her mouth opened on a gasp as her head and shoulders sank into the squashy cushions, her hair flying everywhere, her arms flopping up above her head. Her sex, however, remained firmly fused with Antonio’s.
Stunned, she stared up at him from the depths of the sofa. She’d never experienced or imagined such a position. Yet it was surprisingly comfortable, especially after her legs snaked around his waist, her ankles linking. Her hips were well supported by the soft leather arm, her buttocks firmly clasped in Antonio’s strong male hands. It was also an incredibly erotic position, with their bodies so explicitly displayed for each other’s eyes.
Paige thought Antonio looked magnificent, standing there with his long legs braced solidly apart, his broad shoulders and muscular arms having no trouble holding her to him like that. The years hadn’t brought any flab to his stomach, though his tan was possibly more due to his Latin genes than time spent in the sun. His body hair seemed darker and more menacing than she remembered, or maybe that was because she hadn’t seen that part which was now totally exposed, and closest to her wide-eyed gaze.
Dressed, Antonio always looked a handsome and elegant man. Nude, he was the primitive lover Paige had always pictured, and wanted.
His glittering black eyes took in every inch of her body with a slow and decidedly thorough survey, bringing a flush of heat to her cheeks and a squirming feeling to the pit of her stomach. Under his gaze her parched lips fell further apart, her nipples peaked harder, her belly tightened.
When his eyes reached that part of her which was as one with his he began to move, and to move her, his hands pulling her hard against him with each thrust of his hips.
‘Oh, God,’ she moaned, and simply had to close her eyes, her head twisting to one side, her helpless hands finding and grasping a cushion with frantic opening and closing movements of her fingers. It was impossible to think of anything but what he was doing to her body. How he felt. How she felt.
The blood was roaring in her head. Her heart was going faster and faster. Everything was spinning way, way out of control.
And just when Paige began to panic she shattered around him, crying out his name, her tortured face and wildly spasming body bringing hot tears to her eyes. For this was even worse than she’d feared. The pleasure. And the pain.
Because Antonio did not love her. He would never love her.
Just like Jed.
CHAPTER EIGHT
ANTONIO was stunned by the power of her orgasm, and the rush of elation it evoked within him.
Strange…he’d never been that kind of man before, whose ego needed stroking by the woman he was with. He’d never felt the urge to prove himself a greater lover than her last, never strived to impress in bed so that his partner thought he was the best thing since Casanova.
But it seemed that with Paige he was. His dark triumph at being able to give her such pleasure was only exceeded by the pleasure he was finding in her body. Maybe his memory was playing tricks on him, but he couldn’t remember it feeling this good, even with Lauren. Or this wild!
Antonio had to admit that Conrad’s daughter had been his sexual nemesis for a long time. But especially now, with her violent climax propelling him towards a climax of his own which was as compellingly irresistible as it was highly risky.
For he wasn’t wearing a condom.
He’d meant to go and get one. There were surely some in his bathroom or in his bedside table drawer. Antonio always believed in being prepared.
But things had got out of hand. When she’d urged him to just do it, he’d totally lost his head.
Of course, he cou
ld still withdraw and get one.
Or he could just withdraw.
But he wasn’t going to, was he?
Not because he was trying to get her pregnant. 85
Frankly, the thought of Paige conceiving would complicate things. How could he divorce the mother of his child?
The truth was he didn’t want anything between his flesh and hers when he came. He wanted to keep feeling the heat of her, the tightness, the wetness. And he wanted to go on experiencing the indescribable ecstasy of what he was feeling at that moment.
Her contractions showed absolutely no sign of abating. It was unbelievable! Unbearable! If only he could last for ever. But then she called out his name again, and arched her back in one long, voluptuous movement, shifting the angle of her body, breaking what little was left of his control.
He came with a lightning flash of sensation, his cry as loud as a thunderclap. His fingers were digging into her flesh and his thighs trembling uncontrollably when the sudden urge for closer contact sent him bending over to scoop her up from the depths of the sofa, holding her tight against him while he shuddered deep within her.
At first she just clung to him, but then she started to cry, with deep, gasping sobs.
It rocked him, that gut-wrenching sobbing. Rocked and rattled him. Waltham had said something about her crying with him afterwards.
But surely this wasn’t the same kind of crying! This couldn’t be dismay or disappointment, or, God forbid, disgust. It had to be a reaction to the intensity of her release. He’d heard of such things happening, though hadn’t come across it before.
He wanted to comfort her, to say something, anything to stop her heartbreaking weeping.
‘Hush, honey, hush,’ he found himself saying, his hands shaking slightly as they stroked her hair down her back. ‘It’s all right, Paige. It’s all right. Please don’t cry. Please, sweetheart…don’t.’
She gradually stopped, and with one last hiccuping sob lifted luminescent blue eyes to his. They searched his face, looking for…what? he wondered.