by Amy Andrews
Valentino smiled down at her. ‘Minestrone!’ he announced with a flourish.
Her irritation dissipated instantly. She couldn’t be cranky with him. Not after today. And he was wearing blue jeans and a snug-fitting T-shirt, his damp hair curling on his nape. ‘Are you trying to make me fat?’ she grouched.
He lifted the lid off the bowl and brought it close to her face. Mouth-watering aromas wafted her way. ‘Yes, tesoro. That’s exactly what I’m trying to do.’
Paige’s stomach grumbled as the smell enveloped her in a warm cocoon. Every day for the last three weeks some sumptuous dish or other had been delivered to her doorstep. It seemed tonight was to be no different.
Except for the personal delivery.
‘Let me guess. Mrs Agostino at the deli?’
Valentino gasped and clutched at his chest, feigning injured pride. ‘Made it myself. One of my mamma’s recipes.’
A man who could cook? Arnie had been the laziest man on the planet. Charming but utterly useless. She hadn’t noticed it in the beginning but then their lives had taken a dive and Arnie had not risen to the occasion.
Just when she thought he was like her ex, Valentino went and did something that surprised her. Paige opened the door wider. ‘Come in, then.’
She led him to the kitchen, reaching up for two bowls. She heard the scrape of glass against marble and turned to see him pouring two glasses of red wine the colour of ripe mulberries.
He held it out to her and she almost refused. McKenzie would no doubt wake at some stage during the night, as was her usual pattern, and be up early, as bright as a button. And she was really out of practice with drinking wine. But today he’d performed a miracle and she would have drunk out of a poisoned chalice right now if he’d offered it to her. So she took it.
Valentino smiled and lifted his glass. ‘To McKenzie.’
Paige shook her head. ‘To you.’ And she clinked her glass against his.
They ate their bowls of soup sitting on the lounge. She only half filled hers, giving Valentino the lion’s share. But when she’d finished she’d wished she’d kept a little more for herself.
Valentino had been tempting her palate so much these last few weeks she was actually noticing flavours and textures again. Her appetite was hardly normal but instead of ignoring her stomach when it grumbled she actually went looking for something to put in it. Lucky for her, with Valentino’s edible gifts hanging around, there was plenty of choice.
She looked longingly at Valentino’s bowl. He lifted his eyes from his food and looked at her and she quickly dropped her gaze. But then she noticed how his jeans moulded to powerful quads and she remembered how they’d felt beneath her fingers and she quickly looked away. Thank God she’d had the sense to sit on the cushion furthest away from him on the three-seater after he’d chosen the single lounge chair.
‘Would you like some, bella?’
Startled, Paige glanced at him. The look on his face was one of pure innocence, the soup bowl thrust towards her. But his eyes and the slight lift of his mouth told her he was perfectly aware of the double meaning.
‘No. I’m really full.’ Her stomach growled at her loudly as if in protest and she blushed as he chuckled, placing her hand on it to calm the recalcitrant beast.
She was never hungry. Or at least hunger was so inconsequential in her life; she never paid it any heed.
She grabbed her barely touched wine and took a sip. ‘So, this is your mother’s recipe? What’s that herb I can taste? It’s so fragrant but I’m afraid I’m out of touch with all things culinary.’
‘Basil.’ Valentino watched her as she took another sip of wine, her lips pressed against the glass. ‘Fresh basil, straight from the pot. My mother always says when in doubt add basil.’
Paige smiled. When he was sitting here like this in her lounge room she could almost forget he was a smooth, seriously sexy playboy with a girl in every port. That he’d dated a supermodel. It was like he was just an ordinary Joe, enjoying a quiet evening at home.
Oh, dear. She did not like the direction of her thoughts. Next she’d be convincing herself she could change him.
Because that had worked so well with Arnie.
‘Your mother’s deaf, right?’
Valentino nodded. ‘Since birth. Maternal rubella.’
Paige nodded slowly. ‘So you’ve always signed?’
‘Si. I’ve been signing since before I could talk. We all can.’
‘All?’
‘Me, my father, my five older sisters. Even Alessandro.’
Five sisters? No wonder he knew women. She’d bet her last cent he’d charmed every one of them. ‘Was that hard? Growing up with a deaf mother?’
He shrugged. ‘It was the way it was. I never really thought about it. I’m sure it was a lot harder for her, having six kids to manage.’
‘So you speak two languages and sign in them as well?’
‘I sign in three actually. I had to learn BSL, British sign language, when I went to London and then when I came here I had to learn Auslan, although it is very closely related to BSL so that was reasonably easy.’
Damn it, did the man have to be so perfect? She folded her arms more tightly across her stomach. ‘Has your mother ever expressed a desire to have an implant? She must be a perfect candidate.’
Valentino nodded absently. Paige had pulled the fabric of her shirt taut across her chest and suddenly he could see a lot more. Like she wasn’t wearing a bra. Suddenly their decision to be friends was making less sense.
‘She is. And I really want her to have one but she doesn’t. She doesn’t see that there’s anything wrong with her. She has a full life, she can communicate and is quite active in the deaf community back home.’ He shrugged. ‘And I respect that.’
‘Does that make me an awful person, then? Do you think by going down this path with McKenzie, my daughter will think that I think something is wrong with her?’ She searched his face for an answer. ‘Is it wrong of me to want this for her?’
Valentino frowned. He sat forward and placed his bowl on the table. ‘Of course not, Paige. My mother is a firm believer in doing what you feel is best. As am I. Implants just increase options for the deaf. She would be proud of you.’
Paige felt a trill of pleasure squirm through her belly at the thought of Senora Lombardi’s approval. ‘I bet she’s proud of you.’
Valentino grinned. ‘But of course. Tells everyone about her son the surgeon.’
Paige laughed. ‘That sounds familiar in any culture.’
Valentino regarded her for a few moments. ‘There it is again,’ he murmured. ‘That laugh.’
She grinned. ‘It might actually become a habit.’
Valentino’s gaze flicked to her shirt where it had fallen off one shoulder and her nipples made two points against the fabric.
Friends, friends, friends.
He returned his eyes to hers. ‘Wouldn’t that be nice?’
Paige sobered. Very novel. He held her gaze and it was like being sucked into warm dark mud. ‘Did I thank you enough? Really, Valentino, I don’t know how to thank you enough.’
He shrugged. ‘It’s my job. I’m just lucky to have the best job in the whole world.’
‘Still…’ On impulse she stood and took a step towards him. And then another, until she was standing in front of him. ‘Thank you so much,’ she whispered. Leaning down, she slid her hands to cup either side of his face, her fingers pushing into the luxury of his hair, and pressed her mouth to his in a brief kiss.
It wasn’t meant to be sexual. It really wasn’t. It was meant to be grateful and heartfelt. A thank-you kiss from the bottom of her soul.
Friendly.
Quick in and quick out.
But she should have known she was playing with fire. Because her senses were filled with him. His food offerings had awakened them to flavour and aroma and texture and she was experiencing them all—his warmth, the scratch of his stubble and the clean male smell of
him—and even though she pulled out of the kiss she was incapable of moving away.
Valentino looked up at her. Her eyes had gone smoky and just before she’d covered his mouth, her baggy shirt had fallen forward and he’d feasted his gaze on her pert naked breasts.
It hadn’t been something a friend would do.
He was already hard for her as he reached out and encircled her wrists with his fingers.
Paige looked down at where his thumbs ran a lazy path over her pulse points. There was a brief moment when it was possible to back off, to remember that they’d decided not to do this again. But it passed. And then she was sinking her knees into the leather either side of his thighs, straddling him, settling herself against him.
And then they were kissing. Like the world was about to end. And then her shirt was off and his mouth was on her breasts, sucking her nipples deep into his hot mouth, rasping his tongue around them as they peaked and surged against its boldness.
And then his shirt followed and she was reaching between his legs, unzipping him, touching the hard edge of him, rubbing herself against him as she freed him from the prison of his underpants.
‘Oh, God,’ he groaned, thrusting himself into her hand. ‘Condom?’
Paige slowed.
What?
Condoms? Of course.
Her heart was racing as she tried to order her thoughts. But then Valentino sucked a nipple into his mouth and she clung to his shoulder as her brain turned to mush.
‘Condom,’ he said again, releasing her thoroughly worshipped nipple.
Paige sucked in a breath, pushing her hands into his hair. ‘I don’t have any.’
Valentino groaned into her neck. At home he had boxes of the things. Not that he’d used one of them since coming to Brisbane. They pulled apart and looked at each other, heaving in oxygen, their chests rising and falling, sexual frustration adding to their agitation.
They looked at each other for about ten seconds and then they were kissing again, touching, rubbing, sighing, moaning.
And somehow, Paige wasn’t quite sure how afterwards, he manoeuvred her trackpants off and then he was in her, thrusting up as she ground down, and they were panting and calling each other’s name and it felt good and right and the consequences be damned.
Chapter Five
VALENTINO had no idea how long it took for them to bump back down to earth. It was a slow realisation. A creeping awareness of the jut of her hips in his palms, the weight of her head against his shoulder, the slight brush of her lips against his collarbone as her breathing returned to normal.
He shifted slightly and murmured, ‘I guess there is one advantage to having a deaf child.’ He felt Paige smile against his skin and chuckled.
Paige, malaise heavy in her bones, couldn’t move. It was warm and cushioned against his shoulder and she felt as if she’d been stroked all over with a thousand velvet fingers. The fact that they were still joined and he was still hard inside her was another incentive not to move.
Although if she did this…
‘Don’t do that,’ Valentino groaned, clamping his fingers on her hips harder, holding them still. How could he possibly still be so hard?
‘What? This?’ Paige undulated her hips again and felt the full length of him glide erotically against sensitised tissues.
Valentino felt his breath strangulate in his throat. ‘Yes. That.’
Paige smiled again, suddenly getting a second wind. She pushed away from his shoulder, her nakedness on full display. She looked down at herself, at how wanton she was, how not herself.
She’d always hated her breasts. They’d always been small and with her weight loss even more so. But tonight they looked one hundred per cent female, the pale blush of her nipples darkening and puckering like raspberries beneath Valentino’s rapt gaze.
She arched her back a little and Valentino pulsed inside her. He didn’t seem to find them wanting.
Further down she could see his fingers spread wide against the angles of her hipbones, bronzed against her paler skin. She could feel them holding her firmly, holding her close, branding her. His thumbs circled lazily, stroking the sensitive skin where her hip sloped to her belly.
Lower still she could see where they were joined. Where they became one. The most intimate of connections. It was hot and slick, tingling with the remnants of their joining and the hard hot length of him still buried inside her, and Paige undulated her hips again.
This time Valentino thrust a little and she gasped. ‘Hmm, that feels good,’ she murmured.
Valentino shut his eyes and nodded, slowly pulling out a little and pulsing back in one more time. ‘How about that?’
Paige bit her lip as the fuse sparked to life. ‘Really good.’
He opened his eyes and watched as her high breasts bounced a little. ‘And this?’ He leaned forward and took a nipple in his mouth, his tongue mimicking the torture of the deep slow thrusting down lower.
Paige whimpered and stabbed her fingers into his hair, grasping a fistful and pinning him there. Her hips moved of their own volition and he thrust up again as she slid down.
Valentino moaned, releasing her breast, his eyes shutting as his forehead dropped to her chest. Their bodies seemed to find a rhythm together and he was powerless to resist the pull of it. They were barely moving at all but she was tight around him, holding him inside, massaging his length with subtle flexions and slow pulsations creating a wonderfully erotic friction that stoked a furnace deep in his belly.
He slid one hand to her naked bottom, pressing her closer, and the other up her back until his hand cupped her nape, his fingers furrowing into her hair. His lips brushed her chest, her collarbone, the hollow at the base of her neck.
She whimpered at the back of her throat and he could feel her trembling. Could feel a corresponding quivering of his own muscles as a climax that had been on a slow burn ignited to full throttle.
When she gasped and threw her head back his hand slid to her shoulder and he pulled her closer still, their joined bodies slick with heat and sweat as they rocked.
‘Valentino,’ Paige cried, as her orgasm broke and she bucked against him.
‘Yes,’ he groaned. ‘Quello è ritiene così buon.’
Paige had no idea what he’d just said and neither did she care. It was low and husky in her ear and then she was sucked back into the vacuum where only they existed and pleasure was the only purpose.
Valentino looked up from fixing his clothes. Paige was dressed again and watching him with strands of passion still decorating her gaze like dewy cobwebs. She smiled at him and he realised he could get used to that look.
Kiss it goodnight every evening.
Wake up to it every morning.
His smile faded a little as a frisson of unease crawled up his neck.
Because there was no denying in such a short time he had felt a connection with Paige. Even just today, they’d been through so much. Witnessing McKenzie’s reaction to his clap had been incredibly satisfying. And talking about his mother this evening had been…nice. Normal. What couples who dated did.
What couples did, full stop.
Not what he did. He didn’t do couple stuff.
Not since…
And then there was what had just happened between them on the lounge. Twice.
What the hell was he thinking?
Paige picked up their bowls off the coffee table, the movement of her thoroughly ravaged body shrouded beneath her baggy sexless clothes.
It was a timely reminder that she wasn’t the usual type of woman he did this with. Despite the sexual gratification shimmering in her gaze. She was a single mother with a high-needs child. She had commitment written all over her. She was a couples woman. Or at least she deserved to be.
And this was the second time they’d got naked together. It was starting to feel like something a little more serious than what he usually went in for.
He didn’t have a script for that.
N
ot any more.
‘We can’t do this again,’ he said.
Except all he could think about was doing it again. Stripping those god-awful clothes away and doing it in every room in the house.
And then maybe come back and do it all again tomorrow. No. No. No.
Paige blinked, setting the dishes down. Okay.
She knew he was right, of course but, deep in her heart a little dent appeared. She shrugged with as much nonchalance as she could muster. ‘Of course.’
Valentino blinked. Well, that was easy…
In his experience women didn’t usually take those five words all that well. ‘I don’t really do anything serious,’ he explained, not really understanding why he felt the need to clarify things. ‘And I think it’s a bad idea for colleagues to get too involved.’
Paige suppressed a laugh. He hadn’t been too worried about it thirty minutes ago. But he was certainly running now! Looked like the playboy had reached his end game.
Well, that was okay. Or it would be. This had only ever really been one thing. A thank-you kiss that had got way out of control.
Just as well, though, she hadn’t expected anything from him. That Arnie had hardened her heart to romantic nonsense and that she didn’t have the time or the energy for someone else in her life. How many women had he devastated with that turn of phrase? She could well imagine how some dates would not take it so well.
‘I agree.’
Valentino nodded, his hands on his hips, waiting for the Oh that usually came in this part of a conversation he was especially good at.
It didn’t come.
He decided to explain further. ‘I think we’re adult enough to accept this for what it was.’
Paige suppressed a smile. ‘It’s okay, Valentino. I understand. Neither of us do this.’ She gestured back and forth between them. ‘I can’t and you choose not to. It’s fine.’
He opened his mouth to protest her assessment but he couldn’t. He did choose not to. Since Daniella.
This was what he did. This was what he was used to.