been enough. But if she stayed, it was like giving Matt permission to get closer. That couldn’t go well.
She stared into the depths of those almost-colorless-blue eyes.
A small voice in the back of her mind insisted she was selling this completely atypical man short.
* * *
Matthew palmed Evangeline’s chin and kissed her until his brain sizzled. She was naked in his lap, legs around his waist, and the position was so sensually erotic, he was one rub of her flesh away from going off like a bottle rocket.
Last night had been a fantasy. This morning—still pretty unreal. He’d awoken with a start, afraid Evangeline had evaporated like so much mist in the sunlight. But there she was, hair draped over the pillow, breathing deeply in sleep, beautiful against his sheets. The way she filled his bed was so very nice.
Their one night was over. It wasn’t enough, and he wasn’t ready to say ciao .
Her hands cupped his butt, urging him closer and he was already almost inside her. One quick thrust and he would be. His thighs strained. He groaned against her mouth, blindly seeking the condom wrapper with clumsy fingers before it was too late.
His fingers closed around it, and he eased back a bit to roll it on, still kissing her because he couldn’t stop.
Finally, it was in place. He lifted her bottom and slid in, all the way, and she breathed his name as he situated her flush against him.
His eyelids slammed closed as Evangeline washed through him, blasting away all the cobwebs until that incredible light of hers flooded the darkness inside. They moved together, heightening the pleasure, heightening the sense of completion until they both exploded simultaneously.
He wrapped his arms around her and held her tight against his torso as the ripples went on and on. As they faded away, they left the warmest glow in their wake. His lips rested on her temple, and he couldn’t have moved if his life depended on it.
“I like that position pretty well, too,” she murmured, and he grinned.
“It has its merits.” Her cheek rubbed his, bristling his morning stubble. As decadent as it was to still be in bed, they had to get up sometime. “Are you hungry? I’ll make you breakfast.”
It probably sounded as much like a stall tactic to her as it did to him. He didn’t care. Too many things in his life had ended prematurely, and if she left, he’d probably never see her again. That would be a true shame.
“Do you mind if I take a shower first?” She made a noise. “I forgot, I don’t have any of my stuff. Does the offer of a T-shirt still stand?”
“Sure. Give me a minute in the bathroom and then it’s all yours.” He eased her off his thighs and took shameless delight in watching his uninhibited butterfly roll onto her back, still breathing heavily.
Matthew pulled a T-shirt from the dresser and tossed it next to her on the bed. He bent down to kiss her thoroughly because he could, then whistled as he dressed and went downstairs to scare up some breakfast.
Whistled .
He’d be shocked, except his ability to be shocked had disappeared right around the time Evangeline had presented her naked backside and told him to hop on board. She was the most exciting woman he’d ever met, and under normal circumstances, real-estate mogul Matthew Wheeler would bore her instantly.
But this was Venice, and he was a guy who could keep up with Evangeline and talk about spiritual connections without flinching because there were no rules. Being Matt was liberating.
The updated plumbing in Palazzo D’Inverno only went so far, and when Evangeline turned on the shower upstairs, pipes rattled inside the kitchen walls. It was like music. His cold, lonely house was filled with Evangeline, and he liked it. A lot.
When she came downstairs clad in only his T-shirt, bare legs on display and wet hair dark against her shoulders, every drop of saliva in his mouth dried up.
“How do you make cotton look so good?”
He handed her a glass of
She stared into the depths of those almost-colorless-blue eyes.
A small voice in the back of her mind insisted she was selling this completely atypical man short.
* * *
Matthew palmed Evangeline’s chin and kissed her until his brain sizzled. She was naked in his lap, legs around his waist, and the position was so sensually erotic, he was one rub of her flesh away from going off like a bottle rocket.
Last night had been a fantasy. This morning—still pretty unreal. He’d awoken with a start, afraid Evangeline had evaporated like so much mist in the sunlight. But there she was, hair draped over the pillow, breathing deeply in sleep, beautiful against his sheets. The way she filled his bed was so very nice.
Their one night was over. It wasn’t enough, and he wasn’t ready to say ciao .
Her hands cupped his butt, urging him closer and he was already almost inside her. One quick thrust and he would be. His thighs strained. He groaned against her mouth, blindly seeking the condom wrapper with clumsy fingers before it was too late.
His fingers closed around it, and he eased back a bit to roll it on, still kissing her because he couldn’t stop.
Finally, it was in place. He lifted her bottom and slid in, all the way, and she breathed his name as he situated her flush against him.
His eyelids slammed closed as Evangeline washed through him, blasting away all the cobwebs until that incredible light of hers flooded the darkness inside. They moved together, heightening the pleasure, heightening the sense of completion until they both exploded simultaneously.
He wrapped his arms around her and held her tight against his torso as the ripples went on and on. As they faded away, they left the warmest glow in their wake. His lips rested on her temple, and he couldn’t have moved if his life depended on it.
“I like that position pretty well, too,” she murmured, and he grinned.
“It has its merits.” Her cheek rubbed his, bristling his morning stubble. As decadent as it was to still be in bed, they had to get up sometime. “Are you hungry? I’ll make you breakfast.”
It probably sounded as much like a stall tactic to her as it did to him. He didn’t care. Too many things in his life had ended prematurely, and if she left, he’d probably never see her again. That would be a true shame.
“Do you mind if I take a shower first?” She made a noise. “I forgot, I don’t have any of my stuff. Does the offer of a T-shirt still stand?”
“Sure. Give me a minute in the bathroom and then it’s all yours.” He eased her off his thighs and took shameless delight in watching his uninhibited butterfly roll onto her back, still breathing heavily.
Matthew pulled a T-shirt from the dresser and tossed it next to her on the bed. He bent down to kiss her thoroughly because he could, then whistled as he dressed and went downstairs to scare up some breakfast.
Whistled .
He’d be shocked, except his ability to be shocked had disappeared right around the time Evangeline had presented her naked backside and told him to hop on board. She was the most exciting woman he’d ever met, and under normal circumstances, real-estate mogul Matthew Wheeler would bore her instantly.
But this was Venice, and he was a guy who could keep up with Evangeline and talk about spiritual connections without flinching because there were no rules. Being Matt was liberating.
The updated plumbing in Palazzo D’Inverno only went so far, and when Evangeline turned on the shower upstairs, pipes rattled inside the kitchen walls. It was like music. His cold, lonely house was filled with Evangeline, and he liked it. A lot.
When she came downstairs clad in only his T-shirt, bare legs on display and wet hair dark against her shoulders, every drop of saliva in his mouth dried up.
“How do you make cotton look so good?”
He handed her a glass of
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