Ripped (10 page)

This was where he was supposed to do that classic man thing and say and do the wrong thing so that I could flounce back to Notting Hill and spend the rest of the night curled up with Rosie agreeing that men weren’t just from Mars—most of them were from a galaxy far, far away. But he didn’t. He lingered over the kiss, pushed my hair gently back from my face and studied me for a moment and then rolled onto his side and pulled me against him. If he’d done that in my apartment we would have both ended up on the floor, but fortunately his sofa was bigger than ours. His arms held me in a possessive grip and it surprised me. I’d thought him cold and distant and had wrongly taken that to mean he wasn’t good at intimacy. On the other hand I hadn’t anticipated the tattoo either, which just proved I was clueless about this man.

Because I had no choice in the matter I stayed where I was, locked in the circle of his arms, my head on his chest. The differences between us fascinated me and I lay there, absorbing the contrast. My blonde hair draped itself all over him and mingled with the dark hairs on his chest. My skin looked creamy pale against the warmer tones of his. The inner skin of my thigh was soft against the hardness of his.

He lifted his hand and twisted a strand of my hair around his fingers and I wondered if he was noticing the differences, too.

I’d never been the sort to lean on a man, probably because when I was growing up I’d learned first-hand that leaning was a lethal sport that inevitably ended in serious injury. My Mum had leaned on my Dad and he hadn’t exactly proved himself to be a sturdy stake. I’d decided right from the start I was going to stand tall by myself, so I was surprised by how good it felt to be held like this. I had to confess it made me feel safe, which made no sense at all because why would I suddenly feel safe when I hadn’t ever felt unsafe?

He pushed my tousled hair away from my face and tilted my chin so that I was forced to look at him. What I saw there made my heart bump hard. I’d got so used to thinking of him as remote and cold that the warmth in his eyes wrecked me.

‘
Bellissima
,’ he murmured softly and I didn’t speak any Italian, but I knew he was telling me I was beautiful.

Sexual intimacy had turned into something else and nerves were jumping in my tummy when he lowered his head, delivered a lingering kiss to my mouth and then stood up. He picked up my discarded hair clip, handed it to me and then scooped me into his arms. I locked my arms round his neck because although he’d more than demonstrated how strong he was, I didn’t trust him not to drop me. I wasn’t used to being carried anywhere, but nothing about this night was normal.

‘Why are you giving me my hair clip? Where are we going?’

‘It’s a surprise.’

‘After that disastrous wedding I’ve gone off surprises. I prefer to know what’s going to happen so I can prepare for it.’

His mouth flickered at the corners. ‘We’re going to the bedroom. I don’t want you to get cold.’

Cold?
Was he kidding? I was so hot that if he’d put a slice of bread on me I could have turned it into toast.

But it was evidence he didn’t intend to end the evening yet, so I wasn’t about to argue with his reasoning. And anyway, if I was honest, I was enjoying the cuddle.

I tore my greedy gaze away from the strong lines of his jaw to take a glimpse of his apartment. ‘It’s amazing. The view is incredible.’

He lowered me to the floor and I saw that his bedroom was dominated by—well, the bed. It was slightly raised and positioned to take advantage of the incredible views. Not that I expected to be looking at anything except him.

I pressed my lips to his shoulder. His skin was salty with sweat and he cupped my face in his hands and took my mouth with his. He coaxed my lips apart and kissed me and I was instantly desperate again.

I’d expected him to pull me onto the bed, but instead he took my hand and walked with me towards the window. I resisted.

‘You really are an exhibitionist,’ I began, but then he opened the glass door and I saw that there, on the deck with a perfect view of the River Thames snaking towards the city, was a hot tub.

‘Pin your hair back up.’

It was freezing outside, snow still floating down like confetti, but he pulled off the cover and we slid into the hot water and honestly, it was the most delicious thing ever.

The guy knew how to live, I had to give him that. The heat seeped into my limbs and soothed. The scent was blissful.

Now I understood why he’d told me to pin my hair up. ‘I love this part of London. Have you always lived here?’

‘No.’ Something about the way he said it made me glance at him, but his gaze was on my mouth and suddenly I didn’t care if he’d lived here for five minutes or five years. We were both on a little seat under the water, my thigh pressed against the hardness of his. Far beneath us London was carrying on as normal, oblivious to our presence, and I wondered how the city could be oblivious to the amazing thing that was happening between us.

‘It’s a fantastic apartment. Where does Kiara live?’

‘She lived here with me until a year ago when she started college. Now she rents somewhere with two friends. She wanted her independence.’

I was surprised he’d lived with his sister. This place had ‘bachelor’ written all over it. Perhaps she’d only moved in briefly. ‘How long did she live with you?’

‘Since she was twelve.’ His voice didn’t change, but still I sensed something different. Something complicated. I’d grown up with complicated, so I probably had sensitive radar. And I was good enough with numbers to work out that he must have taken on that responsibility at a young age.

‘No family?’

‘Just the two of us. How long have you and Rosie lived together?’ He was changing the subject, but I didn’t mind. I wasn’t usually mad keen on talking about family either, but for some reason right now, with him, it felt comfortable.

‘Pretty much all our lives.’ I leaned my head back and gazed up at the sky. Snow was still falling, light, feathery flakes that dusted my hair and his. I skimmed my hand over the surface of the water, watching as they melted. ‘There’s only ten months between us. We shared a room when we were growing up. They almost split us up, but we objected.’

‘Split you up?’

‘Dad walked out when we were eight. They fought over who was going to have us. All a bit crap if I’m honest. They thought it would make sense if each parent had one of us, but that didn’t make any sense at all to us.’ Rosie had once said it was like being the rope in a tug of war, but I didn’t tell him that. Nor did I tell him about the time Rosie had hung on to me like a barnacle while Dad had tried to pull her away from me and carry her to the car. In the end he’d given up. They’d never tried to split us up again, but Rosie had insisted on switching her ballet classes to karate just in case.

‘Hence the “friend Christmas”?’

‘Rosie likes to create her version of the fairy tale.’

‘Your sister is very generous. She invited half of London for Christmas lunch.’

‘Friends are our family.’ I slid deeper under the water. ‘What would you have done for Christmas if you hadn’t come to us?’

‘Worked.’

‘So I distracted you. Sorry about that.’ My voice was smoky soft and he gave a mocking smile.

‘If that’s your sorry look, it needs work.’

I lowered my eyelashes. ‘Better?’

‘No.’

‘You want me to beg forgiveness?’ I remembered I’d already begged and felt myself colour. His eyes dropped to my mouth and I knew he was remembering the same thing.

‘You’re so sexy. Keeping my hands off you has been the hardest thing I’ve ever done.’

It was so not what I’d expected him to say I almost sank under the water. ‘Really?’

His eyes gleamed with incredulity. ‘You have to know that, Hayley.’

‘Er—no. Why would I know that? You’ve barely ever spoken to me.’

‘Exactly.’ There was a hint of exasperation in his voice, as if we were talking about something that should have been obvious.

I thought about what Rosie had said on Christmas Eve. ‘So if you felt that way, why didn’t you ever talk to me?’

‘You were with Charlie.’

‘And I don’t even know why.’ I slid deeper in the water, forcing myself to think about stuff I’d avoided. ‘Rosie and I have never been very good at relationships. Charlie seemed like the stable, traditional type. I suppose part of me thought if I was going to make a relationship work with anyone, it would be with someone like him.’

‘Someone who would ignore the person you really are and sleep with your friend?’

‘Thanks for reminding me.’ I didn’t even think of Cressida as a friend any more. Friends didn’t do that.

‘Does it hurt?’

I skimmed my hand over the surface of the water. ‘No. Not any more. And if I’m honest, it was only ever my pride that hurt. I should have been heartbroken, but I wasn’t. I suppose that should tell me something. Honestly, I’m just rubbish at relationships. My New Year’s resolution is to have emotionless sex. That’s why I’m here.’

‘Right.’ The way he was looking at me made my cheeks burn.

‘You haven’t told me what happened after I left the wedding.’

‘I had to arrange a fleet of ambulances to transport all the men who had heart attacks.’

‘
Don’t
.’ I shrank at the thought. ‘I honestly don’t think I can ever show my face in daylight again.’

‘No one was looking at your face, so you’re fine.’

I laughed, surprised by how easy it was to talk to him. It was like removing a pile of rocks from a river. Conversation just flowed, held back for too long.

‘I haven’t thanked you for rescuing me. Everyone else just stood there gawping. Even Rosie was useless. If it hadn’t been for you, I’d still be standing there like a Playboy centrefold. You were very quick on your feet. What happened during the speeches?’

‘Having seen your impressive breasts, Cassie was in a foul mood for the rest of the wedding, but it served her right for stealing your man in the first place.’

‘I’m glad she stole him. If she hadn’t, I wouldn’t be here now.’

‘Yes, you would. It was always going to happen.’

My stomach flipped. ‘It was? How do you know?’

‘Because I was going to make it happen.’ Droplets of water clung to his shoulders. ‘I was just waiting for you to come to your senses and realize he wasn’t going to make you happy.’

‘You were?’

‘I was hoping you’d make that decision, not him. When
he
made it I was worried you hadn’t had time to come to that conclusion yourself and that he’d hurt you.’

I thought about my job promotion party when Charlie had got drunk and not even offered congratulations. ‘I suppose I hate giving up on things. It feels like failure. Anyway, it won’t happen again. No more relationships for me. Just crazy sex. More of this. I didn’t know this was going to happen. I didn’t know Rosie had invited you.’

‘I know. That was obvious when I walked into the kitchen and saw your face.’

I turned my head and looked at him. ‘I’m glad she did.’

‘So am I.’ He leaned towards me, his gaze on my mouth. His hand slid between my thighs. It wasn’t that long since he’d been inside me, but I desperately wanted him there again.

I lifted myself out of the water briefly—very briefly because the blast of freezing air over my shoulders was enough to convince me that under the water was better than out of it—and straddled him. I slid down so that my shoulders were under the water and saw he was watching me with that sexy, hooded gaze that made me want to do wicked things to him.

‘You are the best Christmas present I’ve ever had—’ I murmured the words against his lips and felt him smile. His hands were locked on my hips, preventing me from moving. His eyes glittered and his jaw was clenched.

‘Let’s go back inside.’

‘Now?’

‘Yes, right now. I want to see you. All of you, and I can’t do that without giving you frostbite.’ With his arm around me, he lifted us both out of the water and steadied me while he grabbed a towel.

Chapter Eight

We left damp footprints on his bedroom floor. He closed the door on the cold, the snow and the rest of the world and urged me into the master bathroom.

His arm was still around my waist, his mouth on mine and he reached out an arm and thumped a button on the wall, sending needles of hot water over both of us.

Finally I understood the true appeal of a walk-in shower. We didn’t have to stop kissing. Water streamed over my hair and down my back and I think he must have altered the flow or I probably would have drowned. He removed the clip from my hair again and it slithered down my back in a damp mass. His hands slid over my body, leaving no part of me untouched and I did the same to him until I thought I was going to explode. I wanted to open my eyes and look at him, so I groped for the wall and switched off the water. Steam swirled between us. I was standing toe to toe with him and I leaned forward and pressed my mouth to his skin. Droplets of water clung to his flesh and with hands and mouth I explored his chest, the flat planes of his abdomen, the power of his thighs. I took my time, licking him, tasting him and then dropped to my knees. There was only one part of him I didn’t touch and I heard the breath hiss through his teeth as I teased him as mercilessly as he’d teased me. I came close several times, sliding my tongue over his warm skin, tantalizingly close to the hard length of him. In fairness I was willing to bet I was as desperate as he was.

‘
Cristo
, Hayley—’

I glanced up and saw his eyes, inky dark and focused on me. A muscle flickered in his lean jaw. He was right on the edge of control and I kept him there for a moment, just to show I could prolong gratification if I had to. That I could match everything he did to me.

Of course I didn’t last as long as he had.

I slid my tongue over him and then took him in my mouth, inch by glorious smooth, pulsing inch and I heard him groan something in Italian and felt his fingers lock in my hair. I wondered how I could ever have thought him icy cold. He was raw Italian passion—it was just that he managed to conceal it in public and I loved that. I loved that I knew a part of him others didn’t. That he was like this only with me. I saw the
real
Nico Rossi. I preferred that version. More human. Hotter in every way. I used my lips and tongue, sucked and licked until he hauled me to my feet and pressed me back against the smooth, damp wall of his wet room, his eyes fierce and his breathing uneven.