She writhed her hips in deliberate provocation, ‘I will.’ She closed her eyes, powerfully aware she had him under her spell. Her body slid over the silk sheets, loving the feel of his nakedness against her body, the vibrant power of his masculinity, the sensual heat of his skin, the silky roughness of his chest hair that raised an electric sensitivity as he crested her.
‘Kiss me, Vitali,’ she invited huskily. ‘Kiss the smile from my lips.’
If there had been any morsel of sanity left before that wanton moment of provocation, there was none after it. Not one vestige of control from either of them. Any thought of contest was forgotten in a mindless need to capture all there could be between them.
To tear the breath from each other, to touch and taste and exult in sensation after sensation. Exquisite, erotic, voluptuous pleasure kept building and building, fuelling the explosive desire to possess all they could of each other to the most intimate depths. Past every barrier, every mask—into the unknown and beyond.
The sheer rapture of the ultimate merging of their bodies was so intense that Vitali paused to catch his breath. Their eyes met, clung, and some wordless indefinable acknowledgement was made, a pure moment of recognition that was reinforced again and again as he went on, driving himself to plunge deeper to the very centre of her being, as she contracted and melted around him.
Fire to fire, force meeting force, man and woman in the age-old rhythm of mating. Body to body, soul to soul— to the final melding that made them complete and bound them as one.
They lay together afterwards, entwined in an embrace that neither made any move to break. No word was spoken. Neither made any concession to the other. But the silence they kept held a sense of peace, a truce against battled personalities, as if an accord had been signed and ratified.
There would be no more fighting. Not over this. In this, if in nothing else they were equals…partners…at one with each other. They were both victorious.
Whether Vitali would remain satisfied with that or not Alex couldn’t tell, but she was content that he showed no inclination to separate. What she had just experienced with him was what she had always dreamed she would feel.
She didn’t fool herself that everything would be perfect between them from this moment on. There were too many hurdles to cross before any mutual understanding could be reached. They were right for each other, in a way that transcended words and all their differences, but it still might not be enough to forge the kind of marriage that would bring them both everlasting happiness.
But Alex had been right to take the gamble. She might never have known this bliss, this closeness, this joy—ever, with anyone else.
When she drifted into sleep a smile was on her lips—not erased as Vitali had originally intended, but a smile of knowledge inked indelibly into her memory.
He was her husband.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
The feather-light stroke on Alex’s cheek raised her consciousness and the soft call of her name brought her instantly awake. Gold sunlight flooded the room and Vitali was sitting on the bed beside her, his hair dark with dampness. His jaw glistened from a fresh shave, the citrus-cinnamon scent of cologne accenting the fresh aroma of his cleanliness.
‘I let you sleep as long as I could,’ he said, his gruff tone contrasting sharply with the gentleness of his touch. ‘But we have a plane to catch, remember? You don’t want to miss out on seeing all your marriage spoils, do you?’ he said drily.
Alex didn’t like the hard, mocking glint in his eyes. She wondered for a moment if last night had been a dream, and then she recollected his blistering words about her divorce schemes. She didn’t want him thinking that, but it was clear he would mistrust any straightforward denial from her.
If she couldn’t win him over, maybe it would all end in divorce anyway. The thought of defeat bit into her heart. Instinctively she reached out to him, wanting to capture the intimacy that had flamed between them in the heat of their lovemaking.
‘I’m sure you’d never possess anything that spoiled,’ she said, downplaying his cynicism with an attempt at humor. She trailed a finger languidly over his bare chest, inviting a caress.
He caught at her wrist, halting her advance. His jaw went rigid and his eyes flared with animosity.
‘No one ruins my life. Least of all a woman,’ he stated grimly. ‘Legally you are my wife. IBut I will not be tied. Nor will I tie you. You can do what you please. In one hour I will board my plane. With or without you.’
You are my wife.
The words were liquid honey to her ears. She gazed at him as he dropped her hand and rose to his feet like a big grizzly bear. Her grizzly bear. She would have to ignore his gruffness if she were ever to tame such a wild beast.
‘You hurt my hand,’ she said, rubbing her wrist, secretly satisfied that her touch had affected him so powerfully.
His eyes derisively reminded her that the power to arouse was not one sided. He leant down, and lifted her hand so he could press his lips against it, lingering there for one delicious and agonizing moment. Alex felt heat flare through her body as slowly, ever so provocatively slowly he freckled tiny butterfly kisses along the pulse-point. ‘Better now?’
‘Better,’ she rasped.
He suppressed a smile and released her, striding to the walk-in wardrobe in an abrupt dismissal of any further physical intimacy.
She lay back on the pillow a furnace of sexual frustration as he strode past her, his towel knotted around his lean hips, the rippling muscles of his back and the lithe power of his legs ignited memories that had her stretching with a desire that he for now could not be satisfied. Tonight, she thought, and tomorrow night, and for ever more.
‘You’ll need to get dressed if you’re accompanying me to Gold Ridge Station. 20 minutes. Don’t be late.’ He tossed over his shoulder.
‘I’ll be ready,’ she said, flopping her legs over the side of the bed.
He paused in the doorway to look back at her, his eyes lingering over her naked body. ‘Somehow I knew you’d want to come back to Gold Ridge Station.’ Caustic sarcasm laced his voice.
She refused to let him get to her. ‘I’m always up for an adventure, Vitali. I’m looking forward to this new chapter in our lives. What a fascinating book our love story would make.’ She giggled, unable to contain the delicious bubbles of anticipation.
‘Undoubtedly. A regular romance.’ He scoffed.
‘Till Death Do We Part.’
He looked at her blankly.
‘The title,’ she teased, hoping it might shift his thoughts away from divorce.
His reaction was chilling. His face darkened. His eyes iced over. ‘You’ll have to wait a long time to get your hands on my gold. I won’t die like my father did.’ He bit contemptuously. You’ll never get away with murder. There will never be another killing.’
Alex sat deadly still, momentarily speechless. When at last she spoke the horrified questions splintered from her lips, ‘Murdered?’Her gut clenched, sensing the answer was not one she wanted to hear. Who killed who?’
‘I imagine your father told you it was an accident,’ his nostrils flared. ‘It’s interesting how people can twist things to suit their own agenda,’ he said bitterly. ‘Like you, your father had a talent for acting.’
‘Wh…wh…what?’ Alex gasped. ‘I don’t understand.’
His eyebrow quirked as he looked at her incredulously. ‘We’ll never know who attacked who,’ he conceded, ‘but it was my father, not yours, who wound up dead. Don’t forget that when you tally up your windfall—I won’t.’
Alex rocked back and forth, too dazed by the horrific revelation to rebuke his retort. She inhaled deeply and then released her breath slowly to settle the nausea slopping in her belly.
Her father had not killed anyone. Vitali had pretty much said it, and deep in her heart she knew it. Whatever had happened between her father and his parents had nothing to do with her, she reasoned fiercely. Despite this, how could he even
think she would be so heartless to use his father’s death for financial gain.
She would not let any of this come between her and Vitali. They were husband and wife now, through good times and bad. She had married Vitali Rossi and she was going to keep him, no matter how many times the ghosts of the past tried to haunt their marriage.
Her head lifted in defiant challenge. ‘The trouble with you, my groom, is you’re not used to women who can’t be bought. But you’ll get used to the experience. I’ll wager,’ she said boldly, ‘you’ll even get to love it.’
She made no attempt to cover her nudity as she walked toward him with all the confidence of a warrior goddess; emboldened by the power that last night’s lovemaking had given her. It was as if when their bodies merged he had penetrated her soul.
She paused beside him, reached up and stroked her fingers down his cheek in deliberate provocation. ‘You’re right Vitali, there will no murder,’ she trailed her fingers down his throat, ‘you’re more use to me alive. Very much alive.’ She cupped her hand over the firm mound of his member and squeezed gently. ‘Now if you’ll excuse me, I must get dressed.’
Alex felt his eyes boring into her every step and marveled at her brazenness. She shut the door behind her with a mix of disbelief and triumphant satisfaction. What he had told her had shocked her, and she sensed it would be difficult to find the truth; but she had also given him something positive to think about.
Something, she knew from the excitement she felt beneath her hands when she touched him, that he found thrilling— and potently addictive.
Much to his chagrin he wanted her. She had seen the unquenchable flare of desire in his eyes as she moved away. There was an explosive chemistry between them he couldn’t deny. And so long as they shared that, they had a future!
She caught sight of her reflection in the mirror and realized that she still wore the gold necklace he had given her, that, along with her wedding ring, claimed her as his wife. No, she mused, her fingers tingling as she touched it, it was not a role she would give up in a hurry.
Let the past go. Yesterday that was what they had agreed. So, let it be. As much as she wanted to understand everything he had told her, she could do that, must do that, had to do that if she was to save their marriage. There was more to his father’s death than Vitali was saying, or Simon and Lucrezia’s reactions would have been different.
But worrying about the role her father may or may not have played was not going to help. Somehow she had to learn to detach. Somehow she had to learn to give up the need to be in control. It would be easier said than done, but she would try. Her happiness depended on it. Her marriage depended on it.
Even if her father was guilty of some grievous wrong, he had paid his karmic debt. Living the life of an outcast could not have been easy. And, from what she had been told, never knowing his daughter had caused her father immense suffering. The purpose of life, according to the Dalai Lama, was happiness. It was not a selfish quest.
Happiness? she questioned, staring at herself in the mirror with eyes that seemed brighter than before. Could this wild madness with Vitali be called happiness? An endless pitting of strength against strength, a duel of wits spiced by the strong attraction they felt for each other, a fight to the finish—and what was the finish she wanted?
For Vitali to love her, to need her, to want her in his life forever…
The thoughts rolled through her mind and clung with overwhelming force. She closed her eyes and concentrated on her breathing, trying, but not trying, to tame her mind by going into a meditative trance. Her heart kicked over in a funny little leap of exultation. She shook her head and opened her eyes.
He was the one!
They were meant to be together, to grow together. Mentally, emotionally, spiritually. It didn’t matter why she should feel that. She just had to trust that all this madness and hurt and sacrifice had brought them together for a reason. It was pre-destined.
Of course, Vitali wouldn’t see it so simply. Not yet. She was in for a ride all right. But at least she knew in her own mind why they were together and where their karmic train was taking them. How to get him to stay on board was the problem, but also the challenge, she reminded herself.
But she had the advantage no other woman had ever secured. She was his wife—Mrs Vitali Rossi.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Alex was late for their departure. Vitali was pacing impatiently. He had warned her he would not wait for her and meant it. He didn’t even bother to glance up at her as she stood opposite him.
‘I can’t find the clothes you tore from me in our night of passion,’ she said playfully.
It drew his attention. ‘My housekeeper will have them,’ he replied, his eyes flicking over the figure hugging T-shirt and jeans Alex had chosen to wear. The glossy mass of her hair was bunched back at the nape of her neck in her usual casual style. Her face was devoid of make-up, but her skin glowed and her eyes danced back at him.
His mouth twitched in amusement. ‘You’re quite the chameleon?’
She grinned at him. ‘Just my usual traveling attire. If it’s too casual, I’ll change.’ She didn’t expect any objection. He was dressed in mustard slim-line jeans, a white T-shirt peeping out from a V-neck olive jumper—the ultimate in casual sophistication. The green complemented the color of his eyes and Alex caught her breath. Without doubt he was the most handsome man she had ever met.
She laughed out of sheer exhilaration. Not only had he waited for her when he had sworn no woman would ever control him, but she was enjoying the thrust and parry of their complex relationship.
She was on a high as they left the apartment and made their way to the airport in Vitali's personal limousine, where his private Gulfstream jet would be waiting. This promised to be a great adventure! And she wasn’t disappointed.
They drove straight onto the tarmac and Vitali introduced her to the pilot and a steward who were told to look after her every need during the two-hour flight. To say the jet was palatial was an understatement.
The creamy-golden interior screamed over-the-top-opulence. Every modern comfort was catered for. There were areas for sitting, reclining, dining, and every possible need could be satisfied, including a very sophisticated galley where the crew prepared meals.
Most exciting of all was that it contained a king-size bed upon which was draped a bear-skin rug. Alex found herself wishing Vitali was being less distant with her so she could experience what it would be like to make love in the clouds.
But something about the way he bristled off to the business section and planted his nose in his laptop told her he was in no mood for passion. She heaved a sigh of disappointment and nestled into one of the down-filled leather chairs opposite him, and strapped herself in.
‘You never did tell me why we have to fly to Gold Ridge Station so quickly,’ she said, trying to entice him into conversation.
‘I don’t like missing a muster.’
‘I didn’t know you mustered gold?’
He looked at her bemusement. ‘Not gold. Cattle. Gold mining is my job. Running one of the largest cattle stations in the world is my passion. That and collecting art.’
Alex glanced down to hide her confusion. They were flying to a mine—but he was going to muster cattle? ‘You certainly know how to give a girl a great honeymoon,’ she laughed. ‘A mustering honeymoon. But why didn’t you mention it before?’ she asked hoping it would prompt him into shedding some sunlight into the contradiction.
‘So there are a few things you don’t know,’ he said, cynically. ‘I like a challenge—as you do. My mine is fully operational. . . there’s no fun in that. No real skill. The loading, crushing, conveying and cleaning are all computer-controlled. At a pinch, the whole plant could be run by six people. There is no challenge in that. I need to do things. To achieve things. So I look after the international side of the gold marketing. Currently our biggest market is India, but China with its voracious appetite for gold, looks set t
o make this a game changer. But my real love is Gold Ridge Station. That’s where I spend most of my time, and I wouldn’t give up that life for anything or anyone,’ he said looking at her with unswerving intensity. ‘I like the challenge. I like the responsibility. I like controlling the uncontrollable.’
So, Gold Ridge Station had nothing to do with gold, Alex mused. It was a high-country cattle station! One of the vast open-range properties in Central Otago high country…a self-sufficient, isolated, frontier, with hundreds of kilometers between neighbors. Now she understood what Lucrezia had been talking about yesterday. Men’s country…no place for a woman.
Vitali was watching her…watching the realization sink in.
‘It’s a mistress that no woman could ever match,’ he said with goading certainty. ‘People come and go, but the land is there forever; endlessly testing, demanding, driving a man to the limits of his capabilities and endurance; giving rewards and punishments that exalt and crush.’ His eyes gleamed with mockery as he added, ‘But I can hardly expect a cultured lady from New York to understand that.’
‘For an educated man you really do make a lot of assumptions.’ she smiled. ‘You really shouldn’t make such a habit of underestimating me, Vitali. It’s a long time since I’ve lived in New York. And while I lived there I actually felt like an alien. I’ve got quite used to adapting to diverse environments–my work demanded it, my soul desired…desires it,’ she corrected.
His eyebrows quirked, ‘An alien?’
‘If you’re nice to me one day I may tell you about it,’ she said, secretly satisfied that his mockery had been replaced with a spark of curiosity.
Cynicism curled his mouth. ‘It hasn’t escaped me that intrigue is a key part of your strategy.’
Alex wasn’t in the mood for his sarcasm. She didn’t have a strategy and never had, but if believing that kept him interested, she wouldn’t look a gift-thoroughbred in the mouth. ‘Let’s just say that one of my better qualities is endurance. And I do so like a bit of mystery,’ she said, floating her scarf across her face to reveal only her eyes.
The Italian Billionaire’s Scandalous Marriage: An Italian Billionaire Romance (Italian Billionaire Christmas Brides Book 2) Page 13