by Miranda Lee
The sudden fear and vulnerability in her eyes touched Gino’s conscience. At the same time he refused to back off entirely. This was what she’d come here for, wasn’t it?
‘Why don’t you use it on me, then?’
His suggestion sent her eyes rounding. But not with fear this time. With surprise.
He recalled that he’d always been the boss in the bedroom.
Clearly the idea intrigued her. In actuality, the idea intrigued him, too. He’d never been the passive partner in lovemaking before. Not ever. Who knew? Maybe he’d enjoy it.
‘Here—take it,’ he said, shoving the bottle into her hands before whisking the towel from his hips.
A downward glance had his eyebrows lifting. He hadn’t realised till that moment that he was well on the way to being aroused again.
‘I am yours to do with as you will,’ he said, and he lay down beside her, his arms bending upwards so that his hands rested behind his head.
Oh, yes, he thought as he felt his flesh swell even further. He was going to enjoy this. Very much so.
Jordan sat up and stared down at Gino’s aroused body, not quite sure where she was supposed to start.
In the past she’d reacted only at his command, and never for her own pleasure. The thought of having his entire body at her disposal, however, was sparking an alien feeling of power which was more exciting than she could ever have imagined.
‘You won’t stop me?’ she said, her voice sounding oddly husky.
‘I will keep my hands exactly where they are,’ he promised.
‘You don’t look like you need any aphrodisiac lotion,’ she told him. ‘But you did say that it tasted good, didn’t you?’
Jordan’s heart started thudding madly in her chest as she knelt up beside him, then tipped the bottle gently sidewards, letting the creamy lotion drip onto him.
He gasped.
‘Cold?’ she asked cheekily.
‘Something like that.’
‘I think that’s enough,’ she said.
‘I agree,’ he muttered under his breath.
‘Now, now—you’re not to complain, but to enjoy,’ she chided as she put the bottle down on the bedside table. ‘This was your idea, remember?’
‘Maybe I made a mistake.’
‘Not by the look of you.’
He groaned when she bent and licked him with her tongue-tip.
They were right, Jordan thought, somewhat dazedly. It did taste good—somewhere between olives and apples.
Definitely an aphrodisiac as well: it made her want to make love to him with her mouth. All the way.
A wave of heat flushed her skin as she bent her head to him again. First she swirled her tongue around, several times, then she began to slowly take him into her mouth, holding him firmly at the same time with her lotion-slicked hand.
He groaned, and twisted his hips from side to side. But he didn’t try to stop her.
Jordan set up a relentless rhythm with her mouth, shocking herself by how much she enjoyed hearing the tortured sounds he began making.
It wasn’t till he called out her name that she gave him some respite.
‘Is there something wrong, lover?’ she asked, as she sat up and pushed her hair back from her flushed face.
‘You’re treading a fine line there,’ he warned her, his breathing ragged. ‘I suggest you move on.’
Jordan’s eyebrows lifted, his last words bringing a sudden stab of resentment.
That’s what I’ve been trying to do ever since you left me, Gino. Move on. Yet here I am, in bed with you again. And it’s all such an appalling waste of time.
Jordan’s thoughts infuriated her—mostly because she knew she was incapable of walking away right now. She was way too excited.
But perhaps he was right: she wanted him inside her again.
At the same time, she liked the tension she saw in his face. It pleased her to know she could make him suffer, even if it was only physically. She vowed to take her time with him, to make him wait.
‘Have to go to the bathroom, lover,’ she said. ‘Won’t be too long. Just lie back and relax.’
Relax!
Gino grimaced when she climbed off the bed and padded her way across the gold carpet.
How could he possibly relax?
He tried some deep, even breathing, his eyes clinging to the bathroom door, willing it to open, desperate for her to come back. But when the door finally opened, and she re-entered the bedroom, she didn’t rejoin him on the bed. Instead, she slipped into her high heels and went back into the bathroom.
A minute later she was back, a glass of champagne in her hand, her walk slow and sexy as she undulated towards the bed. As his gaze raked over her Gino’s desire to touch was so acute that his hands instinctively began to move.
‘Hands behind your head,’ she snapped.
Her imperious attitude stunned him, as did the way it turned him on. But even as the blood roared around his veins he longed for that moment when he could take control again—when he could once again show her who was the master here.
‘I’m beginning to see that there is more pleasure in taking than receiving,’ she purred, a truly wicked smile pulling at her lips.
Any secret hope on Gino’s part that she might have come here tonight for reasons other than sex evaporated in the face of that smile.
He swore quietly when she climbed up onto the bed and straddled him, her high heels still on, the glass of champagne still in her hands. As he stared up at her his level of arousal shot past pleasure, entering the world of near pain.
‘Just you wait,’ he warned her darkly.
‘Now, now. Just be a good boy and keep those hands of yours right where they are.’
His pulse-rate went wild as she remained kneeling above him, holding his stricken gaze as she repeatedly put her finger into the champagne and then into his mouth.
Finally she put the glass down, took him into her hands and pushed him up inside her, not letting him go till he’d been totally enveloped by her body.
Gino moaned at the heat and the moistness of her.
He did not expect her to lean down and kiss him at that stage. That was not what she was here for. But was it the tenderness of her kiss which changed his mind on that score? Or the way she murmured his name against his lips? Whatever—his heart seemed to flower open in his chest, bursting with feelings he’d been trying to suppress.
When he moaned under her mouth, she abruptly terminated the kiss.
‘I suppose this is what you want?’ she said sharply, and she straightened, her eyes turning wild as she began to move.
He wanted to tell her that, no, it was not what he wanted. But his tortured body had a mind of its own. He struggled to stop himself from coming, not wanting her to see him lose control.
‘Total surrender, Gino,’ she grated out as she slowed to a more sensual pace. ‘That’s the name of this game. I know. Because I’ve been there…done that. You took me there. You don’t want to give in…you’re afraid that somehow you’ll never be the same. And you could be right. I’ve never been the same. You ruined me for any other man.’
He heard her words, and understood what she was saying. But if he’d ruined her for any other man then she’d ruined him. She’d always been there in the back of his mind. Always.
Maybe they didn’t love each other any more, but they could—if they gave themselves a chance.
What he had to do was tell her the total truth. How he’d never forgotten her either. How he hadn’t run into her by chance. He’d deliberately sought her out.
But no words came from his mouth at that moment. Only raw, naked sounds of desire.
He lasted till she climaxed. After that there was no contest, his back arching from the bed as their bodies shuddered as one.
At some stage he took his aching arms from behind his head. But by then exhaustion had set in. He wanted to hold her, talk to her, but it was a typical case of the spirit being willing but the fle
sh very weak. When she climbed off him a fog had already begun to descend over his mind. Soon Gino didn’t think or feel anything.
Jordan collapsed back on the bed, not moving or speaking till she heard the sound of deep, even breathing. Only then did she steal a glance over at Gino, relieved to see that he was fast asleep.
She still didn’t move for a long while, her eyes glistening as she worked out what she was going to do. At last she rose, quietly collecting her clothes from the sitting room and dressing out there. Afterwards she went to the elegant reproduction French writing desk in the corner, and used the gold pen and perfumed paper to write Gino a note.
That done, she carried the note into the bedroom, where she propped it up against a lamp.
After one last tearful glance at his sleeping face she picked up her shoes and returned to the other room, where she slipped them on, retrieved her purse, and left.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
GINO woke to an awareness of light, and of being alone in the bed.
His head and shoulders shot up from the pillow, his eyes darting around the room.
‘Jordan?’ he called out. ‘Where are you?’
No answer.
He jumped out of bed and dashed into the en suite bathroom.
Not there.
Not in the sitting room either.
The realisation that she’d gone made him feel sick. Then angry.
She could have waited till the morning—not slunk off like some thief in the night.
He was striding through the bedroom on his way to the toilet when he spotted the folded piece of paper leaning against the lamp base.
Hurrying over, he snatched it up and opened it.
Dear Gino,
I decided to leave this way as I didn’t want one of those morning-after scenes. Tonight was great, but there is no future for us. We’re just ships passing in the night, just as we were ten years ago. Please do not come after me. You will be wasting your time. I have plans for my future and they do not include you. Go home to Melbourne and marry that Italian girlfriend of yours. She is Italian, isn’t she? Of course she is.
Ciao. Jordan.
Gino slumped down on the side of the bed.
Shattered did not begin to describe his feelings. Though it was a good start.
He’d made a big mistake not telling Jordan the truth last night. Hell, he could have at least confessed that he’d broken up with Claudia.
But of course his emotions had been very mixed up last night. So had his intentions. From the moment he’d arrived at that dinner he’d lurched from one train of thought to another.
But his head was clear now. Jordan’s leaving him like this had cleared it in a hurry.
He scanned the note again, trying to read between the lines, trying to find some shred of hope that he still had a chance with her.
He couldn’t really find any.
Her saying they had no future together reminded him of his deathbed promise to his father. Clearly Jordan wanted marriage, and he simply could not offer her that.
Nothing in that note made him feel good. Nothing except for the bit about his Italian girlfriend. That part sounded somewhat jealous.
Why be jealous if she didn’t care?
Gino’s heat skipped a beat, but he did not dare to hope too much.
Still, it was all he needed to spark some action. He could not go to back to Melbourne until he’d explored every avenue. If there was the slightest chance Jordan still cared for him, he was going to grab it.
He didn’t know the time, but it had to be quite late in the morning, judging by his extremely bristly chin.
Time to get himself showered, shaved, dressed, and on Jordan’s front doorstep.
By mid-morning Jordan was totally sick of herself. She’d been crying on and off since arriving home at some ungodly hour in the morning.
She hadn’t slept. Hadn’t eaten.
Perhaps if she rang Chad and got that dreadful job over and done with she might feel better.
It was about lunchtime in New York—not the middle of the night or anything.
Feeling simply appalling, Jordan steeled herself for one of the worst phone calls of her life.
When Chad didn’t answer straight away, her first emotion was relief. When a woman answered, any relief was swiftly replaced by irritation.
‘Can I help you?’ the woman said, in a sing-song fashion.
‘Could I speak to Chad, please?’ Jordan said through gritted teeth.
‘Chad, darling. It’s for you.’
Chad darling finally came on the line.
‘Hi there,’ he said.
‘Chad. It’s Jordan.’
‘Jordan…’
‘Yes, your fiancée,’ she bit out. ‘Remember me?’
‘Ahh.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘I was going to call you,’ he said, in the most guilt-laden voice Jordan had ever heard. And she’d heard quite a few during her lawyering years.
‘Who was that woman?’ she snapped.
‘That was Caroline.’
‘Am I supposed to know who Caroline is?’
‘I was engaged to her once. Before I came to Australia. We…we had this fight, you see, and I thought…Well, I thought she didn’t love me any more…’
‘But she does?’
‘Yes.’
‘And you still love her?’
‘Yes, I do. I’m sorry, Jordan.’
Jordan didn’t know what to say.
‘Look,’ Chad went on, ‘even before Caroline and I got together again I’d begun to suspect that my proposing to you was a mistake. I mean, men like me…basically, we want a woman who makes being a wife and mother their career. You’re a great girl, Jordan. And I really enjoyed our time together. But the truth is you’re not what I want in a wife.’
Not what he wanted in a wife.
‘You want an American wife?’ she said, her voice as deflated as her spirit.
‘Yes. That’s the bottom line. I want an American wife.’
Like Gino wanted an Italian wife.
‘I’m sorry, Jordan,’ he added.
Jordan didn’t want his apologies. She wanted nothing further to do with him. Ever, ever again.
‘About the ring…’ he continued.
‘What about it?’
‘I…er…would you mind sending it to me via international courier as soon as possible? Caroline and I are having an engagement party next weekend.’
Jordan blinked, then shook her head. Why was it that the actions of men would never truly cease to amaze her? ‘Sure thing. No trouble. I’ll do it first thing tomorrow morning.’
‘You’re upset with me.’
Gee, how intuitive of you!
‘Actually, I’m not, Chad. I’m relieved.’
‘Relieved?’
‘Yeah. When and if I marry, it will be to a man who really loves me. Bye, Chad.’
She hung up before he could say another single word. Then she sank down onto a nearby chair and wept inconsolably. Not for Chad. But for the fact that no man had ever really loved her or wanted her to be his wife.
All men wanted from her was sex.
By noon she was still curled up in that chair, weeping silent but wretched tears. She was also heartily sick of herself.
‘Enough,’ she muttered, and headed for the bathroom, and her second shower of the day. The first one had been to rid her of the smell of sex. This one was to wash away her never-ending tears.
She stayed in the shower for ages, tipping her face up into the stream of hot water and letting it cascade down her body. Afterwards she towel-dried her hair, then drew on the pink chenille dressing gown she kept hanging on the back of her bathroom door.
At last she thought she might manage some toast and coffee, and padded her way into her sparkling white kitchen. She’d just turned on the electric kettle and popped two slices of bread in the toaster when her front door buzzer rang.
Jordan froze.
&
nbsp; Even before she recovered to walk over and answer her security intercom, she knew who it would be.
‘Who is it?’ she choked out.
‘It’s me. Gino.’
Dismay swept in, making her heart sink. ‘How did you know where I live?’ she demanded to know—before the penny dropped. ‘Oh, yes. I forgot. You had me investigated.’
‘Let me in, Jordan.’
‘I might as well. Because you’re not going away, are you?’
‘No.’
She pressed the button which would release the lock in the door downstairs, sighing as she turned away and went back to where the kettle had boiled and her toast had popped up.
With a sense of weary resignation, she threw the toast away, then got another mug down from the cupboard.
She thought about brushing her hair, or putting on some other clothes, but decided not to bother. Let him see her at her worst, with puffy, red-rimmed eyes and not a scrap of make-up on. Then he might take one look and go away.
The knock on her apartment door was loud and firm.
Jordan resashed her robe, then went to answer it.
By the time her hand reached the doorknob, however, there were knots gathering in her stomach. What did he want of her now?
If he’d come for more sex then he was going to be disappointed. He couldn’t force her into anything—not now that she and Chad were history.
She breathed deeply several times, then wrenched open the door, adopting a stony mask as her eyes swept over him.
He looked great, she conceded. His eyes clear, his grooming impeccable, his clothing designed to seduce. There again, he’d always looked sinfully sexy in biker gear. There was something about Gino in tight black jeans and a black leather jacket which would turn any girl’s head.
But she was no longer a girl, she reminded herself sternly. She was an adult woman, with a mind of her own.
Time to use it.
‘What is it that you want, Gino?’ she said sharply. ‘I thought my note said it all.’
His eyes searched hers. ‘You’ve been crying,’ he returned, with a disarming degree of concern in his face. ‘Why?’
‘Females cry a lot,’ she snapped. ‘For all sorts of reasons.’