A Deal Sealed by Passion

by Louise Fuller

  He knew those eyes. Knew what they were asking. Knew too how hard it was to ask. It had had taken a lot of guts.

  The silence stretched out between them, dissolving and blurring into the silences of his childhood. How many times had he waited, his heart in his throat, for answers to questions he’d had no choice but to ask? For a moment he was lost, alone in the past, and then her face slid into focus and breathed out slowly.

  ‘I want you and I know you want me too,’ he said bluntly. Her lashes flickered up and she met his gaze, her face wary but with a flicker of curiosity in her eyes. ‘Besides, that was the best sex I’ve ever had.’

  He smiled at her slowly and Flora felt a shimmering pleasure unfurl inside her even as her heart contracted at his stark choice of words. She nodded slowly. ‘Okay, so let me get this clear. This is just sex.’

  ‘That’s right. Unless you fancy doing my laundry...?’ he drawled.

  He was teasing, and part of her wanted to be teased. But she needed to know. ‘And it’s just the two of us?’

  It was supposed to be a statement, only it came out like a question and her nails bit into the palms of her hands as something flickered across his eyes. Slowly, he glanced down at her fists and then back to her face.

  ‘I’m all yours,’ he said softly. ‘And you, cara, are all mine.’

  His hand on her skin was warm and firm, and she gave a start of surprise as leaning forward, he slowly began to undo the buttons on her dress. His arm slid round her waist and he pulled her closer. ‘And I’m not sharing you with anyone.’

  Her head was spinning. Desperately, she tried to hang on to her self-control. She’d told him she had to leave and she should go. Another minute and she would be lost, all caution gone, her mind sliding away, claimed by the fierce pull of his gaze and the light, teasing touch of his fingers.

  ‘I really should be going...’ Her voice was husky and she couldn’t keep the shake out of it.

  He lifted his hand from her dress and stroked her face, his fingers light and tender, tracing the line of her cheekbone, brushing over her lips. And then, as she opened her mouth to repeat herself, he lowered his head and kissed her.

  He tasted of mint and salt, and she felt her stomach tense as he parted her lips with his tongue and kissed her hungrily. She pressed against him as his hands travelled over her skin, pulling her against him so close that their bodies felt as one. His breathing was raw, almost savage against her throat, his pulse jerking with hers as he licked and kissed the skin of her neck.

  She bit into his shoulder as his fingers curved under the swell of her buttocks, firm and sure, their touch so precise and so in control. Every touch, every breath was changing her. The room was growing lighter and lighter in time with the tantalising beat pulsing through her body.

  And then from somewhere outside the window she heard the faint humming of a bee, and with an almighty effort she pulled away from him. ‘No. Not now—’

  His eyes narrowed. ‘What are you talking about?’ He glanced down at the thickness of his erection through the towel. ‘Do you think I can put this on hold?’

  She glared at him. ‘I don’t know. Anyway, why are you yelling at me? It was you who started it. You didn’t have to kiss me.’

  ‘I’m not yelling. And what was I supposed to do? You were waiting to be kissed—’

  ‘I was not!’ Her eyes flashed angrily. ‘We were just talking. Getting things straight. I’d already told you I have work to do.’

  ‘Work!’ He blew out a long breath. ‘I think it can probably wait, don’t you?’

  She glowered at him. ‘You mean it’s okay to put that on hold?’

  He shook his head slowly, his eyes glittering. ‘Why are we even having this conversation?’

  She stared at him furiously, her cheeks flushed with anger. ‘Because you didn’t listen to me.’

  His face twisted irritably. ‘I didn’t realise you were being serious.’

  ‘No. What you meant was that you don’t think my work is serious. Well, it is and I am. I actually do have work to do.’ Not that it was really about that. She just wasn’t about to let him walk all over her. ‘Look... Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all.’ She bit her lip and glanced away.

  He stared at her in silence.

  Work aside, this was probably the longest conversation he’d ever had with a woman. Probably the only conversation he’d ever had with a woman. And he still wasn’t exactly sure why he was having it. She wanted to have sex and so did he. That was what they’d agreed. His face tightened. Only now she was saying she had to work! And that their sleeping together wasn’t a good idea.

  Was she seriously going to choose her thesis over him? As if that compared to running a global company. Although truthfully neither his business nor even the palazzo project seemed as important as convincing her that this affair could work.

  He gritted his teeth. Who the hell did she think she was? And what possible reason would he have to hang around while she wrote up her notes? Didn’t she know how many women would be more than willing to satisfy his needs? But for some inexplicable reason he didn’t want just any woman. He wanted this stubborn, maddening woman standing in front of him.

  Abruptly, he held out his hand, frowning as she eyed it warily. ‘It’s okay. I’m not going to jump your bones.’ Reluctantly, she took his hand and, curling his fingers around hers, he pulled her closer. ‘You’re right. And I’m sorry. I can wait...’

  He breathed out slowly and drew away.

  ‘Go on. Go and do your work.’ His gaze locked onto hers. ‘But only if you promise to let me take you out to lunch.’

  He stared at her intently, watching the indecision in her eyes. He hated having to negotiate with her. It reminded him of his childhood. Of the fear and uncertainty of life with his father and stepmother. But let her play her games—let her think that this act of defiance would somehow change the balance of power between them. He’d soon show her exactly who was in charge.

  She nodded slowly, her face softening. ‘Okay. But you have to let me pay half. That way it won’t feel like a date.’

  She met his gaze, and he nodded, but as he watched her walk out through the door his smile faded. She might think she was going out to lunch in Cagliari, but a crowded restaurant was not the place for what he had in mind. He needed somewhere private—somewhere he could strip her naked and play a few games of his own.

  In the meantime, though, he needed to take another shower. And the colder, the better.

  * * *

  Pushing the gearstick hard to the left, Massimo dropped down a gear and effortlessly steered the Lamborghini down the curving hillside. It was a beautiful day, with a clear delphinium-blue sky and a warm breeze. Glancing at Flora, he grinned as he saw the golden flecks in her eyes. She was enjoying herself.

  As though reading his mind, she turned to him and gave him a smile of such sweetness that he almost crashed the car.

  ‘It’s incredible!’

  He laughed. ‘I like it—even though it is a bit of cliché!’

  She frowned. ‘Does that make me a cliché too?’

  He laughed again. ‘You definitely aren’t a cliché, cara!’ His eyes slid approvingly over her short green dress and bare legs. ‘I like that colour on you. It brings out the green in your eyes.’

  She smiled at him mischievously. ‘It’s called absinthe—after the drink.’

  ‘Is that right?’ He shook his head. ‘So instead of fighting me, you’re trying to drive me mad!’

  Glancing at him sideways, she giggled. ‘No. I thought it was an aphrodisiac.’

  ‘Then you must be mad! An aphrodisiac is the last thing I need when I’m with you.’

  Before he’d even thought about what he was doing, he reached over and gently rumpled her hair. He felt her arch her
head beneath his hand, and as heat rushed through him, he slid his fingers over her collarbone, his thumb circling the pulse beating at the base of her throat.

  ‘Maybe we could just go back to the palazzo.’

  She heard the heat in his voice and, turning her head, she smiled. ‘You’re incorrigible. And I’m hungry and you promised me lunch. So keep your mind on the road and both hands on the wheel—otherwise you’ll end up driving us both into a ditch.’

  Ten minutes later they’d reached the outskirts of Cagliari.

  ‘So where are we going?’

  ‘I thought—’ Massimo stopped. His phone had started ringing.

  ‘Do you want to answer that?’ she said quickly. ‘I don’t mind.’

  He shook his head. Picking it up, he switched it to silent. ‘It’s not important. What did you ask me? Oh, yes. Where we’re eating. I don’t think you know it.’

  Flora nodded. ‘Oh. Okay. What kind of food is it?’

  He shrugged. ‘Seafood. Unless you don’t like seafood?’

  The change in him was so subtle that at first she thought she might have imagined it. But as he turned to check the oncoming traffic she saw that there was a slight tension in his shoulders, and the easy warmth in his eyes had been replaced by a dull anger. Not the raw antagonism that seemed to characterise their confrontations but a hard, icy, controlled fury that made a knot form in her stomach.

  She stared at him uncertainly. ‘I do. So, is it in the town centre?’

  He nodded, and Flora frowned. ‘But why are we at the marina then?’

  She glanced past Massimo to where at least fifty huge yachts sat on the shimmering turquoise water, their gleaming white hulls like huge gulls.

  He switched off the engine and turned to face her. ‘Slight change of plan. But I know you’ll love it.’

  Sliding out of the car, he had walked round and opened her door before she’d even had a chance to open her lips.

  ‘What do you mean, change of plan—?’

  But he stifled her words with his mouth. Then, lifting his head, he gave her an irresistible grin and taking her hand firmly in his, began to walk towards the jetties.

  ‘Where are we going?’

  She was having to run to keep up with his long strides and suddenly she felt a little nervous. Everywhere she looked there were gorgeous women standing on decks, long legs gleaming in the sunlight, perfectly manicured hands resting on chrome rails that glittered almost as much as the jewels around their necks.

  With horror, she realised that he was steering them towards one of the boats—the biggest, in fact—and she began to drag her feet.

  ‘What is it?’ He turned to face her, his handsome face creasing.

  She hesitated. ‘It’s really very kind of you, but I can’t just turn up at some party with a load of super rich, super loud, super confident friends of yours. It’s just not my thing.’

  He frowned. ‘They’re not really that rich. Or confident.’ He tugged her gently towards the gangway. ‘But they are super quiet. Listen.’

  She listened, but all she could hear was the gentle slap of the waves against the side of the boat and the odd shrill cry of a gull. ‘I can’t hear anything.’

  Gently, he rubbed at the worry lines between her eyes. ‘That’s because they don’t exist.’ He sighed. ‘Why would I do that? Arrange an intimate lunch with you on my boat and then go and invite hundreds of guests along for the ride?’

  She gaped at him. ‘Your boat? You own this?’

  Something in her voice seemed to cut through the hard lump of tension inside him. For a moment back there, when his phone had started ringing, he’d almost changed his mind. But now, watching her eyes widen with astonishment, he felt calmer. Grinning, he tightened his grip on her hand and tugged her after him.

  They were halfway up the gangway now and, looking up, Flora could see several men wearing shorts and T-shirts starting to assemble on the deck. ‘Who are they?’ she squeaked.

  He glanced up. ‘They’re the crew.’

  Crew! Flora felt her stomach flip over. But it was no good digging in her heels any more. They were on the boat now, and Massimo was shaking hands with the members of his crew.

  Staring dazedly across the deck, she felt his hand around her waist and, taking a deep breath, she turned to face him. ‘Isn’t it a little small?’ she murmured.

  His eyes gleamed. ‘It’s eighty metres!’

  She met his gaze, a smile tugging at her lips. ‘So it’s not true then, what they say about men with big boats...?’

  He laughed softly.

  She smiled up at him, and he felt his body grow hard at the soft, teasing look in her eyes. ‘So, do I get to wear a uniform while I’m on the boat?’

  ‘I don’t know if we’ve got anything in your size,’ he said, running his fingers along the bare flesh of her arm.

  Inside his pocket he felt his phone vibrate, but today was going to be all about him and Flora. Nothing was going to come between them.

  Probably not a uniform.

  And certainly not his past.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  ‘I CAN’T BELIEVE how soft this is. It feels just like powder.’

  Reaching down, Flora picked up a handful of sand and let it run through her fingers. Her eyes narrowed thoughtfully as she glanced over her shoulder at the dunes that edged the beach.

  ‘I wonder what grows here. Euphorbia, maybe? Anyway, it’ll probably be something quite hardy—something that doesn’t need many nutrients.’

  Crouching down beside her, Massimo sighed. ‘Probably,’ he agreed. ‘But I do need nutrients, cara. So can we please go and eat? Much as I love sand, you can’t eat it—and I’m absolutely starving.’

  He pulled her to her feet, and slowly they began to walk up the beach.

  ‘Are you sure this is okay?’ She looked up at him, not anxious, just curious. ‘I thought you were going to work from home today?’

  His gaze held hers. ‘I’m the boss, cara. I make the rules. I don’t follow them. Besides, today is about work.’

  Her heart gave a thud. Of course—he’d probably brought her here to hassle her about the palazzo. She felt a sharp twist of anger. If only she hadn’t allowed her stupid body to start calling the shots she might actually have seen that one coming.

  ‘What do you mean?’ she said dully.

  His face was expressionless. ‘One thing business has taught me is that you need to plan for the worst.’

  ‘And what’s that?’ she croaked.

  ‘I lose my job. My business. So, as I see it, spending time with you is just like training for a new career. If I can stop you from picking a fight with me, I reckon I could easily get a job as a diplomat. Give me a couple of weeks and I might even sort out peace in the Middle East—no problem.’

  For a moment she couldn’t breathe. She was too shocked...angry...relieved. Then, looking up at him, she saw that he was laughing. And after a moment she started to laugh too.

  Massimo hesitated briefly and then took her hand in his. Her grip was firm, but not too tight, and it felt strangely relaxing walking beside her. It wasn’t something he’d ever done before. He smiled grimly. Usually with a woman his hands were otherwise occupied. But he liked the way her fingers curled loosely around his.

  He glanced at her sideways. She was such an intriguing mix of contradictions. One moment teasing him about bringing his wallet, the next bombarding him with questions about the boat. But he liked that too.

  His mouth twisted.

  Not that it really mattered either way. She was here because he wanted her here. It was a demonstration of his power, not some affirmation of her charms.

  And, of course, it was a chance to enjoy the pleasures offered by that delectable body with no interruptions. Pushi
ng his free hand into his pocket, something shifted inside him, as he felt the space where his phone should be.

  ‘It’s like paradise!’

  Flora gazed happily at the clear blue water and the long, curving crescent of white sand and then turning to him, she frowned. ‘But I don’t understand why nobody else is here.’

  He looked at her with amusement. ‘Probably because it’s private property!’

  Catching sight of the confusion in her eyes, he grinned. ‘Don’t look so worried. I’m an old hand at trespassing. Remember?’

  She felt a tingling warmth tiptoe over her skin. It was a good thing their relationship would only ever be about sex, she thought weakly. It would be perilously simple to start craving that curling smile; to start dreaming of ways to become the focus of that steady clear blue gaze.

  She punched him lightly on the arm. ‘I can’t believe you brought me here. That’s makes me some kind of accomplice!’

  He gave her a long, slow smile. ‘I wanted to see where your boundaries are—’

  Transfixed by the many possible and all equally unsettling implications of his words, Flora decided it was definitely time to move the conversation on.

  ‘So why is it so empty, then?’ Unsettled by his glittering gaze, she spoke too quickly. For a moment, he simply stared at her so that she was holding her breath, her heart hammering in panic that he might have read her thoughts.

  But after a long pause, he said coolly, ‘Like I said. It’s privately owned. Fortunately I happen to know the owner and he said we could stop off for lunch.’

  She stared at him suspiciously. ‘You’re not the owner, are you?’

  ‘One day, perhaps.’ His expression was gently mocking. ‘I might make him an offer when I’m ready to buy.’

  He spoke calmly—as though he were discussing the possibility of buying a neighbour’s car.

  Suppressing a sigh, Flora nodded politely. Living with him day to day, she’d been aware that Massimo was wealthy. But there was wealthy and then there was the sort of mind-boggling wealth that was quite impossible to picture. No wonder he’d been so furious when she’d refused to move out of the palazzo. If he could afford to buy an island, it must have come as a bit of shock when his money had failed to change her mind.