Back In The Italian's Bed (3 page)

If it weren’t for the history between them.

She pushed open the double doors to the royal suite. The spacious foyer led into a grand salon, decorated in muted greens and golds, reflecting the colours of the gardens, sea and sandy beach visible through the open French doors.

He walked past her, taking in with a sweeping glance the priceless antiques and meticulous perfection of the delicate silk hangings and fine art.

Carefully she shut the door to the hallway and crossed the lovingly polished wood floor. Another five minutes to show him his suite and she’d be free. She sighed, imagining half an hour in a scented bath, sipping a glass of her favourite Frascati.

‘I applaud your attention to detail.’ He’d stopped to investigate the bottle of wine nestling in the silver wine cooler. Beside it was an artistically arranged platter of summer fruit and a selection of wafer-thin almond and citrus biscotti. ‘No grapes, I notice.’

‘You only enjoy grapes as a source of wine.’ Jenna shrugged. ‘Why serve what I know you don’t like?’ She made no apology for providing his favourite wine either.

‘Using your inside information about me?’ His expression wasn’t accusing, just curious.

‘Why not? I’m sure you’d do the same. Besides, it’s my job to ensure your stay here is a success.’

Because then he’d acquire the hotel from Luca De Laurentis. She repressed a sigh. Once Fabrizio owned the place, she’d be out of a job and the one she’d been offered by Luca, while fantastic on paper, was far from the sort of work she dreamed of. A promotion to a huge city hotel would be challenging and a step up the career ladder, but Jenna preferred the challenges of delivering high-quality service in a smaller, more intimate hotel.

‘You’re young to manage this.’ A wide gesture encompassed the estate.

Jenna smoothed her hand down her jacket and busied herself turning on lamps. ‘Twenty-eight isn’t so young. And I’m the relieving manager. The permanent manager is on sick leave.’

But Fabrizio was right. The chance to take on responsibility for this jewel of a hotel had been a thrilling, if initially daunting responsibility. She adored it. This was exactly the sort of work at which she excelled.

‘Let me show you your suite.’

‘I thought you’d never offer.’

Stoically Jenna ignored his murmured jibe and led the way through a private dining area to the vast master bedroom.

It hit her as she paused in the doorway that the decorator might have had Fabrizio in mind when designing this space. With a more modern yet no less deluxe atmosphere, the room blended silvery pewter and charcoal shades. The dying light and billowing sheer curtains created a softness that contrasted with its clean lines. A spotlight illuminated an exquisite antique stone carving of a horse, almost but not quite drawing the eye from the vast bed.

Jenna’s breath clogged in her throat as she felt him come up behind her, close enough for his heat to warm her. And still she had trouble dragging her eyes from that silvery bedspread.

Her knees were unsteady as she marched across the room, collecting a remote control to open wide the curtains.

She was tired, that’s all, after a day confined with the one man who’d always been able to make her weak-kneed. He hadn’t lost that ability, even when he’d lost her respect. Jenna castigated herself for still being affected by him. Even the sound of his deep, dark chocolate voice was a secret delight when he wasn’t throwing jibes her way.

‘And here’s the bathroom.’ She put down the remote and stepped into the room of travertine marble and glass. The view of the sea from the sunken bath was perfection and no expense had been spared. She gestured to a collection of crystal jars. ‘The bath salts are labelled.’

Not that Fabrizio would bother. He was a shower man, only soaking in a tub when sharing.

Fire washed her breasts and throat at the unwanted memory and she spun around, only to find herself impaled by hot silver eyes. His stare sent a shiver of erotic heat rippling from her nipples to her womb as easily as if he’d flicked a switch.

She knew that look. How well she knew it!

And her body’s response.

Jenna blinked and stepped back instinctively, horrified and ashamed at how longing instantly slammed into her. She came up against the cool marble countertop, hands clutching the hard surface.

Fabrizio moved further into the room, his gaze never wavering. She swallowed a lump of panic and cleared her throat.

‘Would you like to see the rest of the suite now?’ Her voice was too throaty, like an invitation. She swallowed again.

‘Why bother? One bed is enough.’ His voice dipped low.

Enough for what? He wasn’t talking about sleep, not with that predatory gleam in his eyes.

The atmosphere between them sparked with static energy that sucked the oxygen from the air. Her body grew heavy as the pulse of her blood turned sluggish and expectant.

Jenna shook her head, her eyes never leaving his as he came to a halt well inside her personal space.

‘If you don’t want to see any more, I’ll leave you to relax and explore at your leisure.’ Her voice was clipped and cool. If you ignored its husky edge. ‘Will you dine here or downstairs?’

‘I’m not ready to relax. I find myself…restless.’ His mouth curved in a smile as sharp as a tiger’s. ‘And it’s not dinner I’m hungry for.’

He lifted a hand as if to brush her cheek and her head reared back, indignation exploding at his innuendo.

‘You really think you can just walk in here and have…’ Jenna shook her head, unable to say the words.

‘Have
you
?’ His smile widened. ‘Oh, yes.’

Outrage poured through her, drenching the betraying spark of arousal she’d felt from the moment he’d got close.

‘You have the most colossal ego.’ She straightened, her hands fisting at her sides as she fought not to lash out. ‘I’ll leave the two of you alone to enjoy the company.’ She stepped forward, turning her shoulder as she brushed past him.

There was a bark of laughter, abrupt and surprisingly appealing, then strong fingers clamped around her wrist.

‘Not so fast.’

She stopped, heart thumping, and stared down to where his hard, olive-skinned fingers shackled her hand. Six whole months since he’d touched her, a fleeting kiss at her throat before he left her in the cool of dawn, and still he had the power to undo her. If she let him.

Jenna shivered, control hanging by a thread. ‘Let. Me. Go.’

‘You must be joking.’ Her gaze wrenched up to snare on his. ‘Now that I’ve finally found you I won’t let you go so easily.’

‘FINALLY FOUND ME?’ Jenna shook her head so violently wisps of hair feathered around her cheeks. ‘That implies you missed me, which is impossible since by definition a mistress is disposable and replaceable.’

She kept her expression shuttered. Not by so much as a flicker of reaction would she let him guess how much the word
mistress
hurt. How hearing Fabrizio describe her like that, so dismissively, had curdled the secret hope she’d once nurtured.

His eyes narrowed and she felt his scrutiny like a blade scraping sensitive skin. She jerked her arm back but couldn’t break his hold.

‘It also implies you looked for me.’ Her mouth twisted with sour humour. ‘Which, again, we both know you’re far too busy to do. So don’t play games with me, Fabrizio.’

If she’d expected to see a spark of shame or regret she’d have been disappointed. Just as well she’d come to accept that her ex-lover would never feel anything so honest for her.

He looked more furious than ever. Despite his passionate nature, Fabrizio’s brand of anger was of the ice-cold variety. His face turned stony, his jaw set in a grim line that would have looked right at home on some ancient Roman gladiator. Those pale eyes were like shards of ice as they raked her.

‘Oh, I looked,
cara
.’ His nostrils flared as he took a deep breath. ‘I scoured Rome for you. Have you any idea how dangerous the city can be for a woman alone? And at that time?’ He gave her hand a little shake. ‘When they told me you’d left the palazzo before it was even properly light!
Per la Madonna!’

Jenna’s eyes bulged. ‘You’re not serious.’

Never had it crossed her mind he’d search for her.

No. It was impossible.

His head thrust close, his breath hot on her face. ‘Never more serious. What did you expect? You suddenly disappear, leaving most of your things behind. You slip out before the household is awake without arranging a driver or even a taxi.’

She started and he nodded. ‘Oh, yes. I checked. My staff contacted every taxi and car hire company in Rome and for a hundred kilometres beyond. I dealt with the hospitals personally.’

Jenna stared, unable to match such actions, and the stark emotion in his voice and face, with the callous man she’d left behind. That man hadn’t truly cared for her.

Yet Fabrizio said he’d checked to see if she was injured? Personally checked?

‘Nothing to say?’ His mouth was a thin, uncompromising line.

‘There was no need for that.’ Her voice was raspy with shock. ‘I’m perfectly capable of looking after myself.’

His eyebrows soared. ‘And when the only witness to your departure said you looked like death? That you stumbled just getting out the door and he thought you’d had some sort of shock?’ His head reared back and he surveyed her down that splendid, aristocratic nose. ‘For all I knew, you’d collapsed in a gutter somewhere, or were preyed on by some street gang.’

Jenna pressed the heel of her hand to her thumping heart, trying to take in the enormity of what Fabrizio had revealed.

He’d searched, actually combed Rome for her?

She felt light-headed, trying to grapple with such a foreign concept. It didn’t make sense. None of it did.

‘But why? Why go to so much bother?’ Wonderingly she met his gaze and caught a flash of something unfamiliar in those dark pewter depths.

‘Why?’ His lips twisted cruelly on the word. ‘You have to ask why?’ He shook his head, staring down at her as if he’d never seen her before.

A sudden jerk of his arm tugged her off balance. She fell against him, breast against hard, male heat, her hand splayed over superfine wool and powerful muscle.

‘Because of this.’ His head swooped down like a bird of prey on its target. The action was so swift she just had time to register shock before his mouth crashed into hers, forcing her head back. He gathered her in, one broad hand cradling the back of her skull. Dimly she realised he surrounded her, his legs planted around hers, shoulders blotting out the evening light, his body, his hands and mouth all she could feel.

Joy rose. Scalding, sudden, incandescent joy, at being within Fabrizio’s embrace again.

Her body reacted instinctively, her lips parting hungrily under the pressure of his, her body softening against his taut frame. Her hand crept up to plunge in the crisp hair at the back of his head.

Yet somewhere amidst the overload of sensation, her brain tried to assert itself.

‘No,’ she gasped against his mouth. ‘I don’t—’

‘But you do, don’t you,
tesoro
?’ His whispered, fervent words tracked a line across her cheek, to her ear and down her throat, making her shudder and her nipples peak with erotic pleasure. ‘You do want this. You want
me
, just as I want you. It’s always been like that between us. You can’t hide it.’

She was melting, the core of her liquefying under the double assault of his words and his magic touch. Any minute now and her legs would give way completely. She grabbed his shoulders and hung on.

‘Jenna!’ His voice was sharp and demanding, dragging her heavy eyes open. ‘You want me, don’t you?’

He looked so fierce, so war-like, her insides gave a little quiver of fear, even though she knew he’d never physically hurt her. He looked like a man goaded almost beyond the limit of his control.

She shook her head, dazed by the impressions bombarding her, and his hold tightened. He crushed her against him.

‘Say it, Jenna.’ His lips found the secret place below and behind her ear and she shuddered with need. A moment later she caught the sound of fabric tearing and his hand was on her breast, hot and delicious through the fragile lace of her bra. ‘Say it.’

Lust and longing. Curiosity and almost…fear at his harsh expression. That wasn’t anger or simple lust in those crystalline depths but something unfamiliar.

She thought of him searching for her, worrying for her, and her anger melted. Recklessness fired her blood at the realisation this would probably be the last time she felt this vibrant passion. With a sigh of defeat, she gave in to the inevitable.

She’d run from him but she’d never truly escaped.

Fisting her hands in his hair, Jenna pulled his head down and nipped him on the earlobe. His start of reaction was like a bolt of lightning zapping through all her erogenous zones. Always it had been like that. His pleasure was hers.

‘I want you, Fabrizio.’ The words emerged strong and true. ‘Just like you want me.’

Lord help her. Would she ever be free of this spell he wove around her? Fear rose to choking point for the truth was she didn’t want to be free. She loved him. Had loved him since that first day.

A sob rose in her throat and her eyes brimmed with burning self-anger.

Then Fabrizio’s hand pushed under her bra to fondle her breast and her despair was lost in a surge of furious desire. Her teeth found his neck and she nipped hard just at the curve to his shoulder.

He gasped, and an instant later his hands were at her waist, hoisting her up onto the hard marble counter. A tearing tug at her shirt, an expert flick of his hand at the front catch of her bra and her breasts swung free.

Jenna’s eyes lost focus, her lids lowering as he bent and suckled hard at her breast. Pleasure twanged like a fine wire of arousal stretching from her breast to the juncture of her thighs and she shuddered with delight. It was at once familiar and yet new, as if this encounter she’d never expected delved into uncharted territory. Greedily she grabbed his dark head and held it to her breast as she arched into him, her head lolling against the wall mirror.