caress and he smiled at her loveliness. He slid his palm over her breast, loving how she caught her breath when he touched her taut nipple. “Exquisite,” he added, then pinched that turgid nipple.
She gasped; then he kissed her again. He unfastened her jeans, discarding the boots and masculine clothing that hid her many charms. His fingertips told him that her panties matched the bra. And her skin was so fair—the contrast would be gorgeous.
Lorenzo had to see.
He sat up and surveyed the perfection of her lounging on his bed, the red-gold waves of her hair in disarray, the purple lingerie making her skin look like flawless ivory. He was astonished. He would never have guessed that such a gem was hidden by her armor.
She reached out, smiled, and hooked a finger into the waistband of his bathing suit. Lorenzo smiled, shed it, then returned to the bed. Her eyes glowed with anticipation as he took her in his arms again, and their kiss fired his blood even more. He removed her panties and caressed her, loving how she caught her breath at his first touch.
And after that, there was no time for conversation. The firestorm drove them to erotic heights, pushing them to satisfy each other over and over again. Lorenzo had never had such a coupling. Her passion challenged all of his assumptions about humans—and her unexpected laughter provoked a reaction deep within him that he would have preferred not to feel.
Hours later, Lorenzo stood beside the bed, watching the woman sleep as he dressed. He was both exhausted and yearning for more. He was physically sated, but still there was more he wanted to know about this woman. He couldn’t reconcile her no-nonsense appearance with her luxurious taste in lingerie, her apparent pragmatism with her passion. She had surprised him more than once, which was a novelty to him.
He didn’t even know her name.
He reminded himself that he didn’t want to. Such curiosity was dangerous. More information could only lead to more entanglement between them. They’d done what had to be done. He would leave it at that.
He had beguiled her, Lorenzo reminded himself. Just because she’d found him attractive didn’t mean that she’d intended to do anything about it, either today or any other day. He felt a twinge of guilt about his decision, but couldn’t regret all that had happened between them.
That was when he realized he’d forgotten to feed the flames in his eyes after he’d been startled by the sight of her lingerie. Beguiling had gotten her into his bed—the seduction that had followed had been by mutual choice. Some other sorcery had unfolded between the two of them then, some other magic that had surprised him with its ardent heat.
He’d probably never see her again.
And even though that was exactly what he had thought he wanted, Lorenzo was disappointed by the prospect. Unlike most women, one interlude with this one hadn’t been enough.
That hadn’t happened to him since Caterina.
Which should have been warning enough.
Lorenzo stretched out one hand—hoping on some level that he hadn’t been thorough enough, knowing that he had. There was no flame between them any longer.
The spark was dead.
The firestorm was over.
Lorenzo would not be disappointed.
He sighed, even so.
He should be relieved. He should be glad that there would be nothing drawing him to this woman again. He told himself that the only good news was that he’d been smart enough to not fall under the firestorm’s spell. He’d acted quickly, solved the issue, and now could push it—and the woman—from his thoughts. It was exactly what he wanted.
Even if he felt cheated.
Even if he felt once again the hope that Caterina’s betrayal should have killed forever.
It wasn’t smart to yearn.
And Lorenzo was smart.
Even if he had to remind himself—twice—of that.
Lorenzo took one backward glance from the threshold, unable to resist the sight of her, then left the theater.
Cassie awakened alone
She gasped; then he kissed her again. He unfastened her jeans, discarding the boots and masculine clothing that hid her many charms. His fingertips told him that her panties matched the bra. And her skin was so fair—the contrast would be gorgeous.
Lorenzo had to see.
He sat up and surveyed the perfection of her lounging on his bed, the red-gold waves of her hair in disarray, the purple lingerie making her skin look like flawless ivory. He was astonished. He would never have guessed that such a gem was hidden by her armor.
She reached out, smiled, and hooked a finger into the waistband of his bathing suit. Lorenzo smiled, shed it, then returned to the bed. Her eyes glowed with anticipation as he took her in his arms again, and their kiss fired his blood even more. He removed her panties and caressed her, loving how she caught her breath at his first touch.
And after that, there was no time for conversation. The firestorm drove them to erotic heights, pushing them to satisfy each other over and over again. Lorenzo had never had such a coupling. Her passion challenged all of his assumptions about humans—and her unexpected laughter provoked a reaction deep within him that he would have preferred not to feel.
Hours later, Lorenzo stood beside the bed, watching the woman sleep as he dressed. He was both exhausted and yearning for more. He was physically sated, but still there was more he wanted to know about this woman. He couldn’t reconcile her no-nonsense appearance with her luxurious taste in lingerie, her apparent pragmatism with her passion. She had surprised him more than once, which was a novelty to him.
He didn’t even know her name.
He reminded himself that he didn’t want to. Such curiosity was dangerous. More information could only lead to more entanglement between them. They’d done what had to be done. He would leave it at that.
He had beguiled her, Lorenzo reminded himself. Just because she’d found him attractive didn’t mean that she’d intended to do anything about it, either today or any other day. He felt a twinge of guilt about his decision, but couldn’t regret all that had happened between them.
That was when he realized he’d forgotten to feed the flames in his eyes after he’d been startled by the sight of her lingerie. Beguiling had gotten her into his bed—the seduction that had followed had been by mutual choice. Some other sorcery had unfolded between the two of them then, some other magic that had surprised him with its ardent heat.
He’d probably never see her again.
And even though that was exactly what he had thought he wanted, Lorenzo was disappointed by the prospect. Unlike most women, one interlude with this one hadn’t been enough.
That hadn’t happened to him since Caterina.
Which should have been warning enough.
Lorenzo stretched out one hand—hoping on some level that he hadn’t been thorough enough, knowing that he had. There was no flame between them any longer.
The spark was dead.
The firestorm was over.
Lorenzo would not be disappointed.
He sighed, even so.
He should be relieved. He should be glad that there would be nothing drawing him to this woman again. He told himself that the only good news was that he’d been smart enough to not fall under the firestorm’s spell. He’d acted quickly, solved the issue, and now could push it—and the woman—from his thoughts. It was exactly what he wanted.
Even if he felt cheated.
Even if he felt once again the hope that Caterina’s betrayal should have killed forever.
It wasn’t smart to yearn.
And Lorenzo was smart.
Even if he had to remind himself—twice—of that.
Lorenzo took one backward glance from the threshold, unable to resist the sight of her, then left the theater.
Cassie awakened alone
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