anxious questioning, he had soothed her with gentle, seductive words and even more gentle, even more seductive, caresses.
He had distracted her thoughts with his touch, taken over her mind with his kisses, reduced her to a mess of wanton need. Then, when he had finally âgiven inâ to her hungry pleadings, he had taken her to bed as an act of forgiveness for the fact that she had ever doubted him. And he had made love to her with such skill, such passionate intensity, that by the time she had come down off the ceilingagain and back to reality sheâd no longer even been able to remember what it was that had worried her so much, let alone have enough brain power left to question him any more about it. She hadnât wanted to, anyway. She had loved him, and the truth was that she had wanted to marry him, even if the circumstances of their rush to a wedding hadnât been the very best.
But the fear that he would use those same seductive techniques against her once more had been the reason why, when the later, more devastating fears had assailed her, she had fled the house and her marriage as fast as she could without ever seeing him again. She had been too terrified that he would work his sensual magic on her once more and keep her from facing the reality that there was nothing but sex holding them together once the promise of the baby they had married for had been taken away from them.
And she had almost let him do the same to her all over again. Almost. She had been adrift on a hot, wild sea of burning passion, a hunger so savage that even now her body still throbbed with need. If Pietroâs lawyer hadnât had the nerve to knock at the door, bringing his employerâs wrath down on his unfortunate head, then she would haveâ¦
She didnât dare to think of what she would have done, the way she would have given in to the sexual mastery that Pietro had over her and that she had never ever been able to deny.
âEverything is fine.â She heard Pietro fling the words towards the still-closed door. Whatever had concerned the lawyer, he wasnât prepared to risk aggravating his employerâs fury by actually opening the door and coming in.
âCorrection,â she inserted, loud enough for Pietro to hear but not for the words to be totally distinct from the otherside of the door. âEverything will be fineâif youâll just get off me.â
She accompanied the words with a forceful push at Pietroâs broad chest, catching him unaware with his attention directed towards the conversation with his lawyer. She knew a momentâs satisfaction at seeing him knocked off-balance, then a quick, sliding movement had her away from his imprisoning frame and out of reach before he could quite collect himself.
âWhat theâ¦?â
If he hadnât seen it happen with his own eyes, Pietro thought he would have found it impossible to believe the change in Marina in what seemed like no more than the space of a couple of heartbeats.
The ardent, responsive siren he had been kissing had turned into a woman of ice. Her face had frozen into the cold distance of a marble statue. Her beautiful green eyes that had been brilliant as emeralds, then dark and soft as moss, were now pale and opaque, completely shut off from him. A few moments before she had been sexily ruffled, burnished hair tumbling around her pale oval face. The restrained, neat secretaryâs clothing had been messed and rumpled, the cream top pulled out of the waistband of the slim skirtâhis doing, of course. While his mouth had been locked to hers, his hands had been busy getting to know the shape of her all over again, the softly feminine contours of her body. And as a result he was hard, hot and hungry, the yearning to bury himself in her a bruising ache deep down. It was all he could think of, all he wanted.
âWhat are you playing at?â
He hardly recognised his own voice, it was so raw and
He had distracted her thoughts with his touch, taken over her mind with his kisses, reduced her to a mess of wanton need. Then, when he had finally âgiven inâ to her hungry pleadings, he had taken her to bed as an act of forgiveness for the fact that she had ever doubted him. And he had made love to her with such skill, such passionate intensity, that by the time she had come down off the ceilingagain and back to reality sheâd no longer even been able to remember what it was that had worried her so much, let alone have enough brain power left to question him any more about it. She hadnât wanted to, anyway. She had loved him, and the truth was that she had wanted to marry him, even if the circumstances of their rush to a wedding hadnât been the very best.
But the fear that he would use those same seductive techniques against her once more had been the reason why, when the later, more devastating fears had assailed her, she had fled the house and her marriage as fast as she could without ever seeing him again. She had been too terrified that he would work his sensual magic on her once more and keep her from facing the reality that there was nothing but sex holding them together once the promise of the baby they had married for had been taken away from them.
And she had almost let him do the same to her all over again. Almost. She had been adrift on a hot, wild sea of burning passion, a hunger so savage that even now her body still throbbed with need. If Pietroâs lawyer hadnât had the nerve to knock at the door, bringing his employerâs wrath down on his unfortunate head, then she would haveâ¦
She didnât dare to think of what she would have done, the way she would have given in to the sexual mastery that Pietro had over her and that she had never ever been able to deny.
âEverything is fine.â She heard Pietro fling the words towards the still-closed door. Whatever had concerned the lawyer, he wasnât prepared to risk aggravating his employerâs fury by actually opening the door and coming in.
âCorrection,â she inserted, loud enough for Pietro to hear but not for the words to be totally distinct from the otherside of the door. âEverything will be fineâif youâll just get off me.â
She accompanied the words with a forceful push at Pietroâs broad chest, catching him unaware with his attention directed towards the conversation with his lawyer. She knew a momentâs satisfaction at seeing him knocked off-balance, then a quick, sliding movement had her away from his imprisoning frame and out of reach before he could quite collect himself.
âWhat theâ¦?â
If he hadnât seen it happen with his own eyes, Pietro thought he would have found it impossible to believe the change in Marina in what seemed like no more than the space of a couple of heartbeats.
The ardent, responsive siren he had been kissing had turned into a woman of ice. Her face had frozen into the cold distance of a marble statue. Her beautiful green eyes that had been brilliant as emeralds, then dark and soft as moss, were now pale and opaque, completely shut off from him. A few moments before she had been sexily ruffled, burnished hair tumbling around her pale oval face. The restrained, neat secretaryâs clothing had been messed and rumpled, the cream top pulled out of the waistband of the slim skirtâhis doing, of course. While his mouth had been locked to hers, his hands had been busy getting to know the shape of her all over again, the softly feminine contours of her body. And as a result he was hard, hot and hungry, the yearning to bury himself in her a bruising ache deep down. It was all he could think of, all he wanted.
âWhat are you playing at?â
He hardly recognised his own voice, it was so raw and
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